Ventfull, a smartphone app designed to cure FOMO at Harvard through an interactive, easily scrollable calendar of events, was discontinued by the Undergraduate Council in early February. Somewhere, a baby cried. I joined the baby.
Everything I needed used to be one pudgy fingertip away. Now, finding events takes about 15 pudgy, soft, oily fingertip squishes on my smartphone’s Safari app. One should not have to use more than five turgid, moist, smudgy, pudgy, fingertip pokes. Isn’t that what this generation is all about?
Oh Ventfull, you made my life so much easier, and now you are gone with the wind—the movie from my DVD collection that I lost a long time ago. You have been ripped from my side by your creator, the UC, who giveth and taketh away. Not enough money, they say. Not enough coding possibilities in the app, they say. Not enough use, they say. They say a lot of things, and the weight of the world only grows heavier on me.
To put this in simple terms: Ventfull was the child of Former UC President Ava Nasrollahzadeh ’16 and Vice President Dhruv P. Goyal ’16. Newly elected UC President Shaiba Rather ’17 and Vice President Daniel V. Banks ’17 gave up on it. Danny and Shaiba gave up on a child.
Yesterday, when the site officially went down, I was so filled with FOMO that I could hardly move. Finally, I rolled out of bed. Brushed my teeth. Brushed my hair. Ate breakfast. Went to class. Did homework. Talked to friends. Ate dinner. Watched TV. Realized I missed lunch. Re-realized I didn’t have Ventfull. Was paralyzed with paroxysms of FOMO.
FOMO: Fear of Missing Otters. Where are the otters? My favorite part of Ventfull was its interactive map showing location, weight, density of fur, temperature, and top speed of all of Cambridge’s otters. Now, it’s so much harder to know where Harvard’s otters are. So, I’m back to sonar monitoring like a chump who wasn’t born with a silver, otter-shaped spoon in his mouth.
And how am I supposed to meet people now? Where am I supposed to go? I wandered the Yard and pondered these questions. I looked around and everyone seemed to be in the same state of disbelief. Heads down, all scowls, looking at their phones, frantically clicking the Ventfull icon. “It’ll be okay, everyone,” I yelled. “Ventfull’s second coming will be soon.”
“Shut up,” someone yelled back. Hoi polloi, they’d already given up all hope.
Then, another question occurred to me. Without Ventfull, are there even events? Maybe now there can only be chaotic gatherings of people. Like Neanderthals around the burning husk of a mammoth, we lack Ventfull. Like the looters of a Walmart, we lack Ventfull. Like Mussolini and his chanting crowds, we lack Ventfull. Like savage otters, we lack Ventfull.
To make matters worse, in a world without Ventfull, I’ll even have problems with dating. What am I supposed to do with my prospective beaus? Ventfull and Chill was my go to move.
Eulogic reader, you too will have problems. Imagine, it’s Friday night. The club is bumping. Your favorite DJ is playing. You are singing along and actually remembering all the lyrics to the song. Someone compliments you on your dancing, so you give an extra kick, flip, twirl at the next drop. But deep down, you know that there might be a student play you are missing or an IOP event that all your friends are going to be talking about. Doesn’t the music sound hollow now? Doesn’t the drink taste stale? Can there be “fun” after Ventfull?
All we can do now is wait. Wait for Ventfull’s successor. And pray: “O, O, UC, who giveth and taketh, giveth me and mine a way to find events with ice cream and taketh away the loneliness coiled around my mortal coil which wants to be coiled around a Harvard funded event.”