There is no review of EPB so I feel *compelled* to write one. I hate this building with my whole heart. It is not the worst one on campus, but Id say it definitely makes the top 5. Almost every room Ive been in averages 76-80 degree temperatures, whether in August or January. The air feels...how can I put this. Tropical. Tropical like a wet cloth pressed over your mouth. It is so humid that, even in summer, being outside is preferable to being in EPB.As for the rest...ugly 1970s construction. Windowless offices, or, in classrooms, windows that cannot open. Can we crack a window, my students ask. No, you cannot crack a window, because they are uncrackable. They are rigid and riot proof, like the hallways. Theres abestos in the basement. The bathroom stalls are narrow and filled with angsty graffiti that aims for poetry and usually misses.Why write this review? Because Im offended EPB exists, and offended that some of the finest departments this university has to offer are sequestered within its walls. On my walk to class, I watch the beautiful music and art buildings glowing in the sun. I stroll past the majestic ode to capitalism that is the Pappajohn fortress. I envy the collegiate stonework of the Pentacrest.But I cant stay up there, where the air is clear and the classrooms are filled with light. I walk down the hill, towards the murky river. I pass the gleaming journalism building and wonder, why not this, for English and Philosophy? Do these noble disciplines not deserve their share of the endowment? These questions gnaw me as I walk up the shabby stone ramp into EPB, open its doors, squint and squint as I adjust to the darkness.