Ban roller backpacks

Michael Collins
Staff Writer

As the absurd object navigates its way across the terrain, it aggravates nearly all onlookers. One may think that the described device is a Hummer, but despite your intuitions, this object is much more useless in society. It is an archaic form of luggage, as well as the most inconvenient: the roller backpack. Because of such worthlessness, I suggest that we abolish roller backpacks and prohibit their use entirely.

To even classify these gargantuan cases as backpacks is a mistake. These suitcase-sized packs have been problematic since the day they were invented. Parents who bought their child one of these backpacks were plaguing their child’s classmates for the rest of the year. The students in elementary school that took an extra minute to lug their behemoth backpack up the stairs, delaying precious activity time, were the ones that their teacher secretly scorned the most.

So if you owned a roller backpack and your teacher seemed to dislike you, don’t be surprised. And if the child’s friends were recruited to join the anarchist group of roller backpack owners, then the class lunch line would simply become an obstacle course on wheels.

Maybe the roller backpack’s inventors thought it’d be the next big thing, the way Microsoft felt about Zune, but in actuality, they created humanity’s greatest contradiction.

The roller backpack, which is not actually usable on your back due to its bulkiness and poorly designed handle, is an abomination to the luggage industry.

While its users may think that it’s more ergonomic than the typical backpack, ask the people around you and they’ll tell you otherwise. The girl whose toe you just ran over is not appreciative of your massive baggage. Maybe its users think that normal backpacks are too mainstream, but instead of using the most detested device ever created, I’d suggest a satchel.

One day, custodial staff worldwide will rejoice at the prohibition of roller backpacks. They’ll be overjoyed that the hallways are not being repeatedly smudged by the roller backpacks’ wheels. And even more importantly, the prior owners will finally have clean backpacks! The daily grime of dragging your backpack across a teenage wasteland is unhygienic and may be dangerous. While the severity of that hazard may be close to none, uncleanliness is a health issue nonetheless. America does not like health issues, especially when they’re caused by one of mankind’s worst creations.

Contrary to popular belief of the exclusive group of roller backpack owners, also known as the hell-on-wheels gang, it is not necessary to haul all of your books at once. Although the school’s lockers may be ancient and may cramp your style, they provide storage for the seemingly endless amount of materials we’re given nowadays.

And they’re easy to obtain, surprisingly. Also, if you have a roller backpack and are currently attending elementary school, I highly doubt that you need that much space for your coloring books.

Alas, I speak as a connoisseur of the roller backpack lifestyle. The “Amazing Spiderman” backpack that I bought in second grade was not as cool as I’d intended it to be, and I dreaded using it daily. I think I cried at one point during my ownership of it, but it nevertheless taught me a valuable life lesson: you shouldn’t waste your money on useless things.

So take it from a one-year owner: eliminate and dispose of all roller backpacks worldwide. Their uselessness is a crime.