Samford Hall is known across the state as one of the most beautiful and historically important buildings on Auburn’s campus.
With that in mind, the natural question is why we as a University would tolerate placing the horrendous monstrosity that is the cannon lathe next to it.
First, a little history.
The lathe was first built, or perhaps demonically summoned, in Selma, Alabama, to bore cannons for the Confederate Army.
Ignoring the obvious conflicts that come from its original purpose, the next interesting thing to happen to this shockingly uninteresting piece of scrap was when it was buried near Irondale, Alabama.
If the arc of human invention truly bent toward the beautiful, that is where the lathe would have stayed.
It would be covered in dirt, forgotten to any but the worms living alongside it and, most importantly, not in Auburn.
Sadly, someone dug it up and moved it to Columbus, Ohio. It is unknown who actually unearthed this ugly mistake, but it can only be assumed that they were a human of the lowest form of intelligence, as well as someone who had no idea what kind of disgusting abomination that they had once again given life.
Following the Civil War, which the lathe is probably responsible for, this over-glorified piece of junk was sold to a variety of companies.
In 1936 the Tennessee Coal, Iron
Where did they throw it away? On Auburn’s beautiful campus. This is perhaps the most insulting action ever taken against Auburn University in the entire history of the world, and on this otherwise beautiful
Somehow, over the past eight decades, this lathe has managed to masquerade itself as an Auburn tradition when in reality it is nothing more than an over-glorified hunk of metal.
The myth most commonly mentioned in conjunction with this monstrosity is that if an Auburn man kisses an Auburn woman in front of the lathe and it doesn’t move, then their relationship must be founded on true love.
However, research suggests the dumb thing never moves. In fact, the lathe hasn’t so much as creaked since being installed in 1952, which means that this ugly piece of scrap metal has been lying to Auburn students for the past six decades.
Many students go to this lathe expecting genuine relationship advice, and all they get are false assurances. How can we, as a student body
Before it marred the beautiful terrain here at Auburn, the lathe was used to bore cannons.
The irony is that even though the lathe hasn’t been in working condition for over 80 years, it still does what it was intended to do: be boring.
This is a satire column and is not intended to be taken seriously. The views expressed do not necessarily reflect those of The Plainsman.
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