Epic. It’s all the rage with the kids these days, and for that I’ve got mixed feelings. If you can’t tell by the title of my column, I’m enamored by the epic. So on the one hand, I’m happy. Excited, even. For sure, it’s amusing to watch as the word, the concept, the lifestyle develops — it’s a revolution.

But at the same time I’ve got my reservations, because the epic I’ve come to cherish so passionately is being beaten to death by a bunch of patently un-epic goons who sit around on YouTube watching videos of other people pulling off epic stunts they are too un-epic to do themselves. And, of course, most of you know this Friday night scene well: the crowd of faceless drunks who incoherently bump and grind to the played-out beats of our very own O-S-V-A-L-D-OHHHH. Dude, this party is so epic — OHH TEN!

Don’t get me wrong, I love dance parties and online videos. They just don’t fit the bill, if it’s epicacity we’re talking about.

So how does one define epic? Well, you might consult UrbanDictionary (urbandictionary.com), a very handy online resource (it’s the height of hip, the pulse of the youth).

Okay, first off, a disclaimer. UrbanDictionary is probably the least reliable source of information you’ll find anywhere this side of the information highway. Most of the dictionary entries are submitted by 12 year olds whose eyes (and souls) have been scarred by frequent visits to the grimier corners of the World Wide Web.

But in all honesty, I was curious to see how the far the epic movement has come, and checking out what the kiddies are saying is a good indicator of that. A quick search of the word “epic” yields a number of interesting definitions, but it’s the related entries that provide the most hilarity. Just for fun, try it yourself and you’ll see: epic fail, epic maneuver (x2), Epic Movie, Epic proportions, EPIC, EPIC SHIT, Epicicity, Epicnicity, Epicac (...oh whoops), and, my personal favorite, Epic Mount (Look it up at your own peril...)

I can relate to a lot of these. I especially love observing the way people innovate in their slangy use of language. One man’s “epicnicity” is another’s “epicicity.” Compare those to my own “epicacity.” There’s something to be said about the way trends ebb and flow — it’s a phenomenon that’s impressive, if anything.

Ultimately, however, what it comes down to is that “epic” can’t be defined. It’s really a mode of existence, a philosophy for living. If you aspire to the epic, it’ll pay dividends. That much I guarantee.

From something simple, like biking to San Francisco at night (with a helmet and bike light) to more impressive feats, like, uh, becoming a pirate: chartering a seafaring vessel, hoisting the main, and navigating the dangerous waters of the White Plaza fountain, for example. And truly it’s spontaneity that matters most. You can’t plan epicness. It should come to you like a Bacchanalian frenzy, except less insane.

Still, I’ve had more “safety” oriented friends complain that my so-called epicacity is merely self-destructive, dangerous and above all idiotic. I disagree. Granted, the line between epic and stupid is often fuzzy, so exercise some judgment.

Either way, the sole purpose of the epic is self-improvement, a quality attained by shattering conventions and breaking new ground — this is the heart of epicacity. Do you remember that tear-jerking scene from “Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle,” when our two lovable heroes are standing at the edge of a cliff, with nowhere to go but down? And what did Kumar say? Well, something corny about hunger and immigrants and so forth, but the point is — they hangglided off a mountain to attain their goal: a scrumptious stack of iddy-biddy White Castle burgers and all the life lessons they represent. That’s as epic as you can get.

As it turns out, there was this one time over winter break my freshman year when my friends and I got the itch. The itch for White Castle. Now, I live in Boston, and the nearest White Castle is four hours away in New York. But we were totally set on that goal. We were going to do it, to make the drive, no matter what obstacles stood in our way. And then I drove into a house. Ok fine, I just clipped it. Needless to say, it kinda killed the mood.

So I’m obviously not the most epic person in the world. And I certainly don’t try to be, and neither should anyone else, because you’ll injure yourself and/or innocent people in the process. But take what I’ve said to heart — spice up your life and do something you normally wouldn’t. You (hopefully) won’t regret it. And you sure as heck won’t forget it.

Alex is being a diligent student and is currently studying for midterms and writing papers. Give him a jolt of life at acoley09@stanford.edu.