Morse/Stiles has finally managed to beat the curve after 50 years of consistent Ds (saved from failure only by its acceptable freshman housing and brick oven pizza.) This remarkable ascendance in rank is not due to any sort of extra credit work on the part of Morse/Stiles. No, they are still as inconveniently located and off-puttingly modern as ever. It’s just that now there are going to be two brand new colleges that are even more inconveniently located and more off-puttingly modern. (I obviously don’t know this for sure, but I’m thinking no angles at all—just a bunch of circular rooms smashed together in a giant honeycomb.) The new colleges are like the kids who sleep through your Psych exam when you forget to study. You might not care to interact with them, but you are nonetheless thankful for their existence as it relates to grade distribution. And everyone knows Yalie’s never pass up an opportunity for grade inflation. So thanks, Charles B. Johnson. You’ve earned more than just a congratulatory e-mail and your descendants’ gratitude. You’ve earned Morse and Stiles’ eternal thanks for finally achieving mainstream status.
D: Yale football culture
If Friday Night Lights has taught me anything, it’s that football unites a disparate community through the celebration of a time-honored American tradition. If Mardi Gras has taught me anything, it’s that drinking during the day is awesome. Tailgates and football games combine both of these things and are thus objectively must-attend events. So why, this Saturday, did I spend my time hitting the books in Sterling stacks rather than hitting the booze in stadium stands? I’ll tell you why— because no one I know goes to tailgates. (It has been brought to my attention that some people at Yale do in fact go to tailgates. However, I am from Texas, by Texas standards, no one at Yale goes to tailgates.) My crippling fear of going places alone overwhelmed my desire to bond with fellow Yalies by getting day-drunk together. However, conformity is terrible, so let’s all not conform together and go watch guys display their masculinity by tackling each other while Baton Girl leads a group of girls in the Single Ladies Dance.
F: Spring Fling surveys
If you’re like me, then your iTunes consists of Dixie Chicks albums, alternative rock from middle school years, and songs from your spinning class. Chances are you are not like me but that is not the point. The point is that even though everyone likes different music, everyone hates when people make them feel lame for not knowing about the cool underground artist they found on Pitchfork. (I don’t know the names of hipster music blogs, so I googled “hipster music blogs” and this came up.) The Spring Fling Survey is that feeling-lame-phenomenon times one million. Yes, I realize that no one can know every single name on the survey. But when I can’t even determine whether the name I’m reading refers to a band, an artist, or a laptop that plays dubstep versions of Beyoncé songs, I’ve hit a new low. (CHVRCHES, I’m looking at you). In my opinion, the only way for the Spring Fling Committee to turn this fail into a credit is if Robyn is the headliner for Spring Fling because Robyn is the greatest. (if you haven’t heard of Robyn, I realize this assertion might seem like a contradiction. But in reality, I think it is a wake-up call.)