This Will Be Funnier if You Actually Go to Pomona.
A revelation came upon me this last weekend as I was preparing for Smiley
80's. Yes, Smiley 80's. I know that's a long way off. But let's just say I'm
not working on so much of an outfit as a complete recreation of the Thriller
video, complete with multimillion-dollar makeup jobs and backup dancers from
Harvey Mudd. It will also involve a disco dancing Che Guevara defeating Ronnie
Reagan's evil empire through the almighty power of Funk. (Keep in mind I never
liked the 80s, and this will all make sense to you.)
But all this preparation did lead to a light bulb appearing over my head: if
Smiley has Smiley 80s and Harwood has Harwood Halloween, what do the other dorms
have? The rough equivalent of jack shit, I surmised. So I sat down and spent
over 15 minutes coming up with the best possible ideas for other dorm-affiliated
parties, each unique in a certain way while adding something to the mythos and
individuality of each living environment. Well, Wig and Warhol both start with
the same letter, anyway. Here ya are:
Wig Warhol Party: gives you the opportunity to dress up in your favorite
postmodern outfit. Sip champagne while discussing the works of Derrida or some
unknown but incredibly overrated author. Don't forget to look ostensibly bored
throughout the conversation or you will be labeled as a fake and have a leather
glove slapped in your face. Look for me in the giant banana suit.
Lowry Led Zeppelin party: here's your chance to follow in the footsteps
of those kings of debauchery in this startlingly lifelike portrayal of the rock
and roll after-party. Groupies of every age and deviancy will be available,
as will enough cocaine. Once you're properly good and wasted, record label executives
will come and whine to you about your next album's direction and how important
tomorrow's show in Philadelphia will be to your career while you pull a Bonham
and lose your guts all over the bathroom floor. Lobsters will not be provided.
Walker Lucky Fucking Freshmen Party: celebrate getting to know God's
chosen people, those first years who have wound up with rooms comparable to
your local Hilton, with rumors of adding butlers and an indoor Jacuzzi in the
spring of 2003. I'm thinking of dropping out of Pomona and then re-applying
as a freshman just so I can finally avoid living in a room whose ceiling I am
convinced will collapse on me during my innocent slumber, if the spiders don't
get to me first. No dress code, but you had better bring gifts or risk being
cut out of the inner circle forever.
Mudd-Blaisdell Mock Party: building upon the "mocktail" concept
of cruelly providing freshmen with drinks that should by all rights be alcoholic
but are actually as potent as warm milk, the Mock Party will provide many other
opportunities to simulate the feeling of enjoyment, such as a prop stereo that
does not play actual music, a Nintendo which offers only "Barbie: the video
game" and a smoke machine which dispenses carbon monoxide. Guests will
be provided with o-chem textbooks and must memorize and be able to recite the
periodic table before being allowed to leave the party. I would actually really
love to organize this event.
Oldenborg Tower of Babel Party: seeing as everyone who lives in Oldenborg
at least pretends to understand a foreign language, this idea basically writes
itself. Lock all the bilinguals in a room together and force them to speak their
second language, even if nobody else has a clue what they're trying to say.
English will be completely forbidden, and anyone found disrespecting this rule
will be forced to conjugate the verb "to be" in every language known
to man. Don't know a second language? Make one up! I'm going to be brushing
up on my Hopelandish, so watch out! Bonus fun: each language area adopts the
laws of its home country, essentially bringing the legal drinking age down to
16 in most quads and making the new legal consenting age 7 in a few rooms.
Lyon Libido Party: just imagine the fun and chaos that ensues when horny
teenagers get together to dry-hump and gyrate to the beat of such songs as Snoop
Dogg's "Ain't No Fun". Why, it'd be like nothing ever seen on the…
wait. Come to think of it, that pretty much describes every weekend in Lyon
anyway. OK, let's just drop that.
Norton-Clark "Where the fuck is this place, anyway?" Party:
Half the fun will be trying to find this mythical dorm, which I hear may or
may not be made up of some of the rooms south of Frary. Or maybe that's Clark
Five. Or Scripps. There's probably upperclassmen living there but for all I
know it could be a horde of angry Mongols watching and waiting to smite the
heathens and rebuild their glorious empire. You know, I should probably get
out more.