Once upon a time, there was a very small college in a very small town in a state that was actually not as small as it was often thought to be. And this town, which had standards somewhat different from the rest of small town America, followed very specific rules in going about its collective life.

In taking a completely subjective sociological analysis of the town, one of its learned citizens might notice the existence of one particular law. In its most simple form, the law went as such: when passing each other on the sidewalk, it was illegal to make eye contact with one another. The law also emphasized the necessity of a shifty glance in the opposite direction of the approaching passerby. This law was enacted at the founding of the College, ensuring that its scholars wouldn�t be smote by God for inappropriate glances. Subsequently, there was a remarkable absence of smiting in this little town � yes, its inhabitants were much more likely to be destroyed by their own minds than by God.

But there was also an underground movement. Usually it was those idealistic, friendly types who fell to this plague. These people smiled, they made full eye contact, they even dared to say hello. The disease was spreading: the harder ones of these idyllic criminals tried to catch the attention of a passerby, the greater the chance that he or she would be pulled into this cycle of blatant law-breaking.

One day, one such person was hypnotized by the gaze of a person passing her by. The human contact was so intoxicating that she smiled to herself, humming a cheery tune, as she made her way to class. Unfortunately, she did not see the bicycle coming, so drunk was she on the glance of a neighbor. She had been smote by God.