Isn’t it always delightful when the sacred turns cliché? The seven deadly sins, or cardinal sins, or capital vices, were once used to educate believers on fallen man’s tendency towards sin. Today the average follower has no qualms filling his basic moments with a vestige of good old-fashioned lust, greed, or envy. Let us walk through the fall of any student at the University at Buffalo, as commonplace as eating an apple, in order of increasing severity.

Luxuria

Or lust, originally intended to mean luxury, later taking on the idea of desire. We suffer from both. From the latest in convenient phones and expensive cars, to the scattered condoms you come across on campus after hours, we are not deprived of our share of luxuria. But this is more than just sex, which can happen any time, any place. This is the carnal desire for it, the anxious eyes landing on your breasts and ass, the lip-licking and mind-rushing of it. Even thinking about it could land you in purgatory, where you’d have all the time in the world to pine and obsess. At least it’s not as bad as gluttony, so you’ll be better off than the guy gorging on his Big Mac.

Gula

The dude with the Big Mac will eat his way to a heart attack and end up with eternal damnation. Whether too soon, too much, too dainty, too expensive, or too fervently—over-consumption is among the worst to watch. Take a walk through your local dining hall, Putnam’s, Common’s joint; anywhere the smell of free stale popcorn pervades or freshly delivered pizza permeates. We’re suckers for food, and as Americans, disdain moderation. But at least you’re better off than that greedy bastard in business school.

Avaritia

To be fair, not everyone going into business and management is a greedy bastard. But the desire for more money and more things means you probably want to end up on MTV Cribs waving your arms at the shiny furniture no one sits on and a dining room table displaying something expensive. Today, though, you’re eyeing the latest iPod Touch or wondering where that bitch got her boots so you could get them too. We’ll move on to envy later. It’s even deadlier.

Acedia

Too easy. Laziness, sadness, apathy; the word in Latin even looks like it’d be the root of ‘academia.’ Think of couches and videogames, snack foods and weed. More disconcerting is the bit about apathy, what that means for our generation. On my list this’d be the deadliest.

Ira

Let me paint you a picture. It’s about, say, 9:58 a.m. on a Wednesday. You just pulled into Jacobs C expecting a miracle. After a few steady revolutions you notice a kid walking down the ramp. Fresh meat. You hit the gas to chase him down, look for his bobbing head over the roofs of cars. Finally you spot him. Eureka! As you speed down the lane to get next to his car and flick your little turn signal on, some asshole turns in right in front of you. You slam on the breaks not to hit him, only to realize he just stole your spot. He just stole the spot in front of you. And you’re late to class. And that car is a douchebag.

The sting of wrath will haunt you for days.

P.S. To the girl I did that to: I was looking for a spot longer than you were. Stop yelling at me. I’m sorry.

Invidia

… And stop hating on my killer spot right in front of my next class. Get your own spot.

It’s the same feeling waiting in line at the Cybrary. You know you’d prefer that nook by the window so you could people-watch in between bursts of paper-writing. “Jealousy is a sickness,” a friend of mine notes in her Facebook profile. I am not the jealous type, but I’m sure it has something to do with individualism (note the Latin resemblance) and filling some void in your sense of self. At least you’re better off than that proud motherfucker, right?

Superbia

Ah, superbia indeed. Superbia, suburbia, pride and traditional nationalism. Here we experience it on a micro scale. This is the girl on her cell phone checking out with photos of herself while you’re eyeing her computer. This is the vanity of always watching your own reflection when you’re walking by the tinted window on the side of Capen. This is the English major tone of voice, like your theories are so special for being yours. Proud of your heritage, your name, proud of the way you wear those jeans. The deadliest of vices. And the most irritating.

Despite our likelihood of going to hell in a handbasket, whether you believe in it or not, it certainly makes for a good anecdote. That’s the thing about sins: they’re fun to do, and even more fun to talk about. We exploit them, and enjoy them, until they’re nothing more than a system of categorizing short stories in a college journal. And that’s okay, it’s worth the content. We’re better off as fallen men than hollow men with no face and no grimace.