Get off my lawn
(08/27/12 7:06am)
Greetings and salutations to all of you gents. My name is Wellington Biddle Duke McClendon, but you may call me Grumpy Trustee. And grumpy I am.
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Greetings and salutations to all of you gents. My name is Wellington Biddle Duke McClendon, but you may call me Grumpy Trustee. And grumpy I am.
Good evening, I’m Dr. Brainchops. I’m the head psychological counselor and overseer of patient confidentiality at CAPS. Saturday, a freshman named Devin came into our office behaving like a total weirdo. He spewed out a constant stream of horrid puns and misogynistic comments. He was even making rape jokes, which, as we all know, haven’t been funny for over a week now. I haven’t gotten his test results back yet, but all his symptoms lead me to believe that Devin is possessed by the Devil: red eyes, excessive cursing, 80 percent name-spelling congruity, being in Pi Kapp, etc...
So I got a pfrosh this weekend—this wrestler dude I called Rocky. He was pretty chill, but seemed like one of those built guys that pack on muscle to cover up their missing personality. I mean he’s definitely first round cut material if he rushes next year, but he was alright by his own accord. Over my two nights with him I learned how to be the best host possible: It’s not about being nice or showing off the campus. Being a great host is just about showing your kid how f***ing sweet you are.
Has something been bugging you lately? I’m sure you’ve noticed them around campus by now; there’s way more of them this year than ever before. You probably thought they were innocuous at first: just small, green, slow-moving annoyances that could never amount to anything. No, I’m not talking about the school’s recent deluge of p-froshes…. This column is about the treachery of the inchworm.
I gotta give Duke credit.… The school knows how to deal with the unfortunate half of their “liberal arts” moniker: Fake it till you make it. Since there’s no legitimate interest in the arts on campus, the school will keep pretending like there is until it exists. Case in point: Froshlife. Duke drops a scholarship’s-worth of cash on this red carpet contest for freshmen, but only like five out of 13 dorks ... er dorms, even submit videos. You can tell Duke really cares about this struggling event by how much they bribe students to come. Jazz at the Mary Lou does alright on their own, so they can bribe attendees with just sliced vegetables; the Nasher’s got it a little harder, so they gotta give out free desserts. But how desperate does Froshlife gotta be that they’re handing out freaking iPod touches?!
I love my evil powers, but one stipulation that’s always bugged me is that God and I aren’t allowed to mess with anybody’s free will. Yeah, I can ensure that there’s a hearty dosage of crack, coke and Carly Rae Jepsen on every street corner, but when a little kid decides he’s gonna live above the influence of today’s most addictive substances, there’s not really anything I can do about it.
After spending a relaxing week back in hell, I’m rested up and ready to return to the trials of finishing my first year at Duke. That’s what Spring break’s for, right? We go someplace hot for a week of partying to break the monotony and prep for the next seven weeks of partying.
There’s nothing quite like condescension from a poster.
The administration is watching you right now, and if you’re eating outside of Panda, I’m watching you too. Ever since Tailgategate and that powerfully pointed sex slideshow, Duke has been waiting for you to slip up so they can put you and your friends on probation ’til you graduate.
Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. Sorry guys.
Contrary to popular belief, most dogs go to hell. This is because most dogs are dicks. They piss all over everything but people let it slide because “they’re marking their territory.” Don’t try that defense with DUPD.
The funny thing is, before today, I’d never told any one I was the devil.
Editor’s note: The following column was received at 11:59 p.m. Sunday night. We had no choice but to run it. We apologize. Really.
Yeah, I know. I have an interview with the Boston Consulting Group next week. I didn’t think it was going to work out, but Daddy pulled some strings so I could get the preferential treatment I deserve. I used to believe in systematic oppression, but my newfound success in the consulting field has shown me that in America, you can be whatever you want to be, as long as you work hard. Now that’s something to be thankful for.
Will you be my number one?
Every time I talk to an engineer or a pre-med or something, they have the nerve to ask me, “So what are you going to do with that major?” Even English majors, who I thought would be sympathetic, have a wide variety of (mostly evil, corporate) career paths available to them. They, too, express contemptuous curiosity in regards to my Program II Global Marginalized Cultural Art Studies degree. But then I guess they wouldn’t understand, because putting English above all other languages is so ethnocentric of them. How can they still teach “English” when they got rid of the Wolof department? It’s racist.
Larry, my Loyal Citizens and I have won a lot of victories this week. The sorority brothels have been pushed to Central Campus where they belong; Occupy Duke has hopefully opened the way for other, more interesting protests (a “forum for discussion?” Really? What happened to activism? My mom did not buy me this new sleeping bag so I could sit in it and have rational conversations with passersby); and yet another football game was lost without a single fairy princess in the stands—on Halloween weekend, no less. But we can’t get complacent. Duke’s Global future needs our help!
And no, I don’t mean “fix” as in “neuter”—but I’m not totally against that, either—I mean how to make real progress in improving Interfraternity Council recruitment, by which I actually mean pledging because as all independents know, there’s no difference at all.
But look, I’m really sorry about it. And I’m still joining Occupy Duke, just to support the rest of you who apparently need financial aid or something. Let me explain.
Larry knows I stand by him through everything he does, including, of course, the house model. I mean, I support Larry Moneta like the dictionary supports the possibility that “water buffalo” is a racial slur. But just like with Football Gameday, I worry that the house model is going to backfire on an administration that is trying to keep everyone’s best interests at heart. Based on what I’ve seen on my Saturday morning carbon-emission-free bike ride between my dorm and the NGO I intern for, truly multicultural Duke students are left out of Gameday. In the same way, I worry that the house model will destroy Duke’s already negligible multicultural spirit.