I DON̢۪T USUALLY READ the required text. Paying attention to the lecture usually does it for me, assuming the professor isn̢۪t a moron.

As a plurality of my professors are by far not morons, it̢۪s been years since I̢۪ve even opened up the syllabus-mandated, officially approved, isn̢۪t-it-interesting-that-my-professor-published-something book for a class.

Now I have, and so I̢۪ve decided that I probably hate you. Yes, you.

This week, for the first time since I was a math major, I used my book between classes.

Unfortunately, my copy of “Critical Social Issues in American Educationâ€Â — jaw-dropping in such a way that I yawn — is filled with the previous owner’s writing.

This sucks.

I wasn̢۪t really all that surprised that the black and white was spotted with color throughout the book. I flipped through the copy before I bought it, and it sure seemed better than all the rest of the used books on the shelf.

It̢۪s a bad sign when the least-ruined book is almost still dripping from Sharpie and highlighter. A 5-year-old child did not co-author my textbook, but it looks like one certainly had something to say.

What kind of person tortures their books like this, anyway?

All my life, I̢۪ve been taught about the sanctity of the binding, publication and original pages.

Editors smarter than us are paid to edit and lay out the content of a book. We aren̢۪t qualified, much less privileged to change it, alter it or jack it up at all.

There̢۪s an easy way to avoid this whole charade, but buying all new books is out of the question.

I̢۪d rather spend my money on food, drink and consumer-grade electronics than on the $20 worth of security you get with a cellophane-wrapped version. Who knows how much you̢۪ll even use it?

If you write in your books, please stop. Stupidity marks are distracting to your book̢۪s future reader. It̢۪s hard for us to concentrate on ancillary information when every paragraph has a fluorescent first sentence.

However well they may work well for you, they won̢۪t work for the rest of us if we ever feel studious.

Ironically, careful reflection shows that it certainly doesn’t look like stupidity marks did much for “Critical Social’sâ€Â previous owner, either. In all that paraphrasing, underlining and nigh-illegible scrawl, there’s not one single unique insight.

Sounds like some of my professors.

Whoever you are who attacks your books with pens, crayons or some combination of red, orange, yellow and green highlighters, please stop.

If you must take notes, and if you must sell back your book, use a Post-It. They double as bookmarks.

Better yet, it takes a real prodigy to deface a book with the things.

Is that really so hard?

To be courteous?

To think of someone other than yourself?

To be a decent human being for once in your measly, pathetic life?

I have half a mind to — I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. Really. Please stop crying, I’m not mad. Look at me. Please? Good, that’s better.

I don̢۪t really hate you. I think we could have some real progress. I̢۪ll even make the first move. Ahem.

Let us set aside our differences, and usher in a grand era or peace and prosperity. Before we get to that, though, let̢۪s set aside your scented markers.

Benjamin Baxter is a post-baccalaureate student working toward his high school credential in social science.