Twirling moustaches

A friend of mine let me know that my column from two weeks ago made a brief appearance at an Interfraternity Council meeting. I hope I'm not overstating my influence in guessing that it involved a burning effigy of myself and The Chronicle editors who allowed such an anti-IFC opinion to find its way onto the "Tower of Campus Thought and Action." Despite whatever colorful language uttered on my behalf, I'm glad to know people read my column.

With this proud honor of writing a column some people read comes drawbacks-namely, publishing retractions. You see, in my last column, I wrote, "this isn't to blame RLHS exclusively," and proceeded to lambaste selective living groups. My apologies to IFC and all SLGs indicted in my column; I failed to realize that RLHS should never, in fact, be relieved of any culpability for their actions. Ever.

This error was brought to my attention long before I wrote the column. First, when RLHS alerted me I would probably be living on Central Campus. Then, they said I would definitely be living on Central. Next, they said I would definitely be living on Central, but if my lottery number was low enough, I wouldn't know exactly where until August. Then I was assigned to Central, but 55 sophomores had no housing at all. And then, before solving that crisis, RLHS initiated a test-run of an emergency flyering campaign (please tell me you remember this-there was a flyer on every door saying "No need to panic. RLHS is simply testing its process for posting emergency notices as part of the University emergency notification process").

But, as [insert religious leader here] says... actually, I don't know what he or she would say, but I'm sure it would involve forgiving and forgetting, even in the case of RLHS. And so I did. In a symbolic gesture, I used my summer study abroad in China as a sort of rebirth: I allowed myself to believe that if a middling university in a developing country can provide quality housing, so can RLHS.

And they proved me wrong again.

This year, they kicked off with a slew of winners, starting with the Great Double-Booking Fiasco of mid-July. Ah, the memories. RLHS helped solve their self-created housing crunch by putting four students into a double without telling them! Clever. With that warm-up under their belts, they began the school year in earnest with the "Quiet Hours" concept. Again, this upset students who were looking for something a little more coddling, like "Naptime" or "Potty Training." Not-so-finally (you think they're done making stupid policies?), RLHS rolled out its new lofting policy. You've heard enough about it recently, so I'll spare you the details and just summarize: RLHS has finally proved to me that they will never think about, listen to or care about students.

I'm finally done believing that such a long track record of incompetence can signify anything but a total disregard for students. I'm not one for ad hominem attacks, and I truly don't believe that the leadership of RLHS is actually absent-minded enough to have simply slipped up so consistently. So there's only one conclusion to be drawn: RLHS is literally a boardroom full of villainous scoundrels, twirling their moustaches, grinning maniacally and plotting their next move to harm students' housing experience. No matter how many resolutions Campus Council passes, RLHS will always work in a way that seems at odds with our best interests.

What's the solution? If RLHS solicits your advice, ask for the exact opposite of what you actually want. Instead of sending them e-mails with headings like "Please let me keep my loft" or "I showed up to my room this afternoon and someone I don't know was already living there," use reverse psychology. A good "I have too much freedom on East Campus" or "Pretty please? Can you relocate me?" should do the trick. As long as we make a concerted effort to never let the powers that be know what it is we actually want, they can't prevent us from getting it.