By Mazal Haus

New data from Grinnell students show consistently high accuracy for self-report surveys—four out of five students report that their answers always represent honest, unbiased opinions about college life. Now even D-Hall is leaning into this highly reliable method of data collection by humbly requesting student opinions about the new trough they’ve added to the Honor G Grill, where they just kind of grind up the burger patties and let the footballers stick their faces in. Use of the feedback tablet at D-Hall’s exit has skyrocketed from zero to five uses since its implementation, with students reporting that they “definitely see it as they leave”. Many have noted that an animated owl keeps winking “saucily” at them while a millipede in the other corner spreads all of its legs to expose every single penis.

However, new reports have dropped about the increasingly obscure questions and answers. Monbem Ayz’crem `28 remarks, “They’re asking questions I have to dig deep into my soul to find the answers to.” When asked how deeply they were forced to dig, they replied, “Like, to the inner ear canal at least.” It is unclear where they believe the soul resides, but our discomfort is nonetheless visceral.

They aren’t alone in noticing the odd phrasing of D-Hall’s attempt at a video game. For example, last Tuesday’s dinner featured the question: “How long were the baby carrots today? Just say when.” with options: “Just sa—” “Seriously?” “Are you ser—?” “Are you serious?” “Okay, y’know what—” and “This is impossible, I’m starting over.”

Other notable mentions include:

Q: How fluffy were the blueberry scones today?

A: Sliding scale from “Viagra-hard!” to “Fluffier than George Bush pre-Manscaping!”

Q: Was the Oreo cream pie worth it?

A: “Absolutely!” or “Didn’t have any.”

Note: Students report that if you select, “Absolutely!” the machine lets out a loud Oink. However, if you click “Didn’t have any.” an image of famous supermodel Bella Hadid flashes over the screen.

Q: Am I annoying? Be honest.

A: Students were cringing too hard to notice the possible responses.

Q: Rate the fiesta rice from 1-5.

A: “One” “Two” “Three” “Four” “Five” “I’m gay”

Q: No, seriously, you can tell me if I’m annoying you. I won’t even care.

Q: How crispy was the broccoli?

A: “Perfectly Firm” “Positively erotic” “Avoidant-attachment” “Naught but dust, that which we all come from at the dawn of life and return to at dusk.” “Playing into stereotypes.” 

Note:  Signs point to these options accidentally being transferred from an incomplete Grindr profile.

Some students have expressed concern over where their feedback is going. After all, food quality has not noticeably improved since the tablet’s implementation. “I swear the vegetables are getting mushier,” Ayluv Fybur `27 insists. “It’s like they’re preparing us for the trash cans behind a Denny’s. Is the job market really that bad?”

There are also worries about the increased use of technology in D-Hall as a whole, including the cleaning robot and the AI sensor in the tray return. “Does answering the questions on the feedback tablet count as screen time?” Andy Soshalbaum `30 wonders. “Cause, I don’t think mine should get any higher. Healthily, legally, or ethically.” We let him go touch some grass after this dubious self-assessment of his online habits.

Despite concerns over the tablet’s usefulness, it must be good for something, since the college is spending money on it. Everything Grinnell places even a penny behind is, without a doubt, super duper worth it. So, in the spirit of the famously accurate self-report survey:

Q: How did you like this article?

A: Cheeks up, babygirl.