Predators at the watering hole

Most people know about the food chain -- that hierarchy of animals consuming other animals shown picturesquely in every fourth grade science book in the world. In any ecosystem, the larger and more ferocious beasts prey upon the weak. \nA large university is an ecosystem in itself. Like gazelles roving the African plains, students spend long days grazing their campuses for the knowledge they need to survive in the lean, test-ridden months ahead. Like their natural counterparts, the herds of students end the day by retiring to Bloomington's own proverbial watering holes -- and I'm not talking about rock quarries. \nIn nature, animals come from all around to bathe and drink in communal pools, and although Bloomington's watering holes are often just as dirty and rank, patrons are able to drink from clean glasses. These oases of collegiate nightlife are Kilroy's, Nick's and a slew of places that share the unrelenting task of helping people forget existence outside their walls. \nAnd forget, we do, that all watering holes are surrounded by dangers. Predators are lurking in the tall grass outside, but at IU, they hunt for sport, not survival.\nI live on the corner of 7th Street and Indiana Avenue, the same intersection where County Councilman Scott Wells was arrested by the Bloomington Police Department. Every weekend, I witness the cavalcade of police vehicles cruising near the bar scene, circling the smashed, stammering and straggling students like buzzards on the Serengeti, preying on the weak, the slow and the staggering. Once in their sights, there is little chance of escape. For unlike in nature, where the gazelle might be able to outrun the lion, anyone stopped by the BPD would be better off not even breathing.\nFirst, one should immediately suppress his or her flight instinct. Fear of life will lend wings to the feet of a threatened gazelle, but 10 or more beers will shackle and bind lead weights to human ankles, making any desperate attempt at self-liberation a comic act wherein the eventual punchline is an extremely close look at a concrete sidewalk with a knee in your back and brand-new charges to face in court.\nCampus cops are immune to logical reasoning, as well -- especially to the kind of quick wits developed in the after stages of a six-hour bender. Even the soundest argument can be turned into a disorderly conduct charge before you can say, "I'm not home, I'm going drunk, ossifer."\nUnfortunately, the education of a walking drunk is often learned on location -- a baptism by fire, so-to-speak. Even a man as involved in local politics as County Councilman Scott Wells learned the hard way how to deal with the BPD. \nWells was a large prey, indeed -- an elephant among the smaller animals -- yet not even this leader of local government fathomed the ferocity of Bloomington's savvy cracksquad of alcohol hunters.\nStill, Wells' demise was in part his own making. He, of all people, should have known how the law works in this town. The rules are different on our campus than in other parts of the county. \nWells was only stopped for a seat belt violation, yet he racked up several more counts before the night was over. To him, it was a conspiracy. To many students, it's a familiar story.\nSo on Sept. 27, Wells became part of the same conspiracy directed at IU students since at least three years ago, when I came to this campus. In 2002, IU had nearly double the number of alcohol-related arrests than in-state rival Purdue. BPD called it good hunting, but arresting drunk people near the bars late at night is more like shooting dead fish floating at the top of a barrel.\nIU's drunk-hunters should maintain civil obedience instead of arresting anything that blows .08. A lion, in spite of its ferocity, hunts for survival -- not because it is higher on the food chain.