The origin of the Duke student is a highly debated one. Some argue that they climbed out half-blue, half-devil, from the primordial ooze of high school seniors. Others firmly debunk this theory of evolution and maintain that they came into being when God (or Christoph Guttentag) blinked. In a nod to the resurrection of Christ, we did wear our "Jesus is my homeboy" T-shirts all through Easter, but that is the only leeway we'll give to religious credo. Evolution it is.
This week at Duke offers the rare opportunity to witness all stages of the Dukie life cycle present on campus, and we ask that you use the following taxonomy to track your way through these stages.
Stage 1: P-frosh, Acadette Nervosa
The p-frosh is an annual species, germinating, flowering and dying in one short year. P-froshes can be found peeking around campus about the same time the tulips come out, often with their parent plant in tow. One can tell a p-frosh from the perennial upperclass students by their tendency to be small and white, clean and bright, you look happy to meet. sorry. At any rate, p-frosh are small, clean and have a distinct inability to tell where the Bryan Center is even when standing right in front of it.
Some need constant watering with increasing amounts of fermented barley and exposure to fraternal radiation. Others wilt at the very thought of such aggressive care and would rather bask in the reflected glow of the perennial students. Most perennials enjoy this form of worship, though the incessant questions about their favorite memory at Duke can drive some of the current students to reject their p-froshes.
The females ought to watch out for excessive attention from the older (though not wiser) male students. Failure to do so may result in unwanted pollination.
Stage 2: Senior, Academe Apatheticus
Behold the senior, Academe Apatheticus in its natural habitat as it feeds on Cook Out, $4 big-beers at Satis and the food points of underclassmen.
Tragically, a horrible disease known as thesis is making its way through the senior class, rendering most immobile, anxious and self-loathing. Treatment includes a constant supply of Red Bull, IBM tech support and a reassurance that their cunning research on "Deists and the Damned Deities They Debunked" will get them into a top-tiered grad school. (Note: Further inquiry has discovered that 1-800-IBM-HELP features a panting, moaning female who does not help fix computers.)
Those free of disease can be most easily identified by their clean clothes and their occasional lapses into schadenfreude (Schadenfreude! People taking pleasure in your pain!).
Yet, smack in the middle of theses-completion, exam preparation, job finalization, operation: getting-the-hell-out-of-here, Duke decides to throw a week-long sextravaganza just for the seniors. But how can any creature expect to succeed academically when such temptations abound? That is the true test of the Apatheticus-to emerge from Senior Week ready to graduate into being alumni/ae! Failure in this regard will lead to the dreaded limbo stage-fifth year senior, and an extra 40K in loans.
Stage 3: Grad Student, Academes Masochistus
Grad students are a rare and elusive species. Like sightings of the Blue Footed Booby, catching a glimpse of a graduate student leaves one with a faint sense of exhilaration (look, I found one!) and a desperate fear of scaring it off (I promise not to ask about your dissertation!). To prevent being approached by lesser species, the graduate student often shields itself with arcane language and esoteric trivia. (Wildlife Watch: you can observe flocks of them flexing their trivia muscle on Tuesdays at the Joyce.)
The Masochistia(ae) eschew nutrition in favor of Ramen noodles, Spam and the occasional graze at Whole Foods. They prefer to nourish their soul and intellect with the savory General Tso's of complex ideas and the sweet yet tart key lime pie of vague theories. Washing it all down with the crisp, refreshing taste of Lacanian Post-structuralism Lite.
Stage 4: Alumni/ae
As typically nomadic creatures, they can be found only once a year in their respective niches being fed white wine and petits fours in return for large donations. Observe the younger alumni shamelessly hitting on the unattainable co-eds, thinking they can still run game. The older alumni are slightly more respectable, too busy being irrationally excited about Duke (come on, Crowell Quad was never THAT great) to engage in any serious debauchery. Endangered species watch: Rumor has it that the elusive septuagenarians are back for their 50-year reunion!
James and Joyce recently discovered "Animal Crime Scene" on Animal Planet. Jessica Ballou and Suparna Salil knew that it was the cheetah who dunnit all along.
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