I am extremely disturbed by a recent event in the Durham community. A certain establishment on LaSalle Street, formerly styled "Railroad Adult Video," has quite subtly chosen to rechristen itself "MaXxX Adult Pleasure Emporium"-with neon lights and a slick new exterior to boot. How unfortunate for all the city's current residents, who must surely mourn the mutilation of an icon. And condolences to all returning alumni of this great institution who will feel a little older as they endure yet another shift in Durham's fickle landscape.
"And how senseless," remarked an acquaintance of mine, "as if 'The MaXxX' is going to dress up its image enough to fool the people who most often see the place: those hundreds driving by it after working and studying at an Ivy League-quality institution."
I stumbled and dropped a few books.
But the act of stooping down to pick them up must have cleared my head; at the very least, it allowed me to gain enough control over myself that I didn't throw down the gauntlet that I felt like unleashing: "Ivy League-quality institution? You just had to slip that in, didn't you? What could that possibly have to do with what we were talking about?"
Of course, his remark had everything to do with the, um, "Emporium."
There's a distinct style of discourse that's gained nasty niche on this campus. Not that it's anything new, or that it's particularly confined to Duke. Nonetheless, 'round here, it's well-represented. And I (re?)christen it "Ivyspeak." Ladies and gentleman, hold on to your egos.
Ivyspeak is what led some hubristic fop to proclaim Duke "The Harvard of the South"-just to set the record straight, no fewer than four Southern schools have been known to claim that title at one time, (Fools! Of course it's us!).
Ivyspeak is that twitty peppering of conversation with a few schools dear to our hearts-usually in monstrously impertinent context. Just built a new library? Wow, that's an Ivy League-quality facility!
But Ivyspeak doesn't only take the form of gratuitous comparisons to schools in the Northeast; it also cloaks itself as the obscenely rosy, over-flattering "best of the best" Duke student portrait that's too often coupled with some "woe is me" lament about the hardships of being so impeccably, unfathomably top-notch.
In one sense, the business of Ivyspeak-and the language in which it's couched-has a distinct purpose: business.
To enhance Duke's clout on a resume, application, etc. Performed with great enough skill, Ivy League Theater will take on at least the vague associative quality of truth-or so it is hoped. Ivyspeak becomes just one more tactical maneuver among many for raising one's hiring and earning potential.
The objective seems annoying at worst. But if this were all it aimed at, Ivyspeak wouldn't be any more troubling than titling that summer spent in your dad's mail room the "Senior Executive Managing Officer of Postal Operations" on your resume.
No, what's most unsettling about Ivyspeak is who it preys on. Who is it designed to impress-besides, naturally, ourselves?
Envision this: You're standing before a graduate or current student of some suitably prestige-stuffed Ivy. Still feeling just as comfortable about spouting off those Duke-Ivy comparisons?
Ivyspeak thrives on the insecurities, naA_ve admiration or fear of everyone who is not, for whatever reason, expected to see through it. Whether these people are perceived "subordinates" at our future workplaces or cohorts in our personal lives, Ivyspeak will work on them only insofar as it manipulates their trust in some aura it creates.
Ever witness a situation where an incompetent person manages to pull off a scandalously good impression in front of a certain group, simply by virtue of being a slightly larger fish in a very small pond?
Ivyspeak only works via that same narrowing of its audience. It can't throw itself open to the world for unrestricted inspection. It can't be secure no matter who's watching. It can't exist outside of a closed community that wants or has to hear such posturing. It's a crooked rhetoric that lies in wait until it finds a captive audience.
In the end, Ivyspeak isn't such an insidious practice because it's making statements that either are or aren't true. Whether Duke actually should be considered an Ivy League-quality school couldn't be more beside the point.
Ivyspeak incriminates everyone in its surroundings and undermines the very result it hopes to bring about by the simple fact that it exists-that someone needs to see that it to exists, that someone brings it into existence, that some have been conditioned to take its existence seriously.
For crying out loud, guys, it's not like we don't know what you're selling.
Philip Sugg is a Trinity junior. His column runs every other Friday.
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