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Copypasta from Bored@butler. If you're feeling bored and looking for easy points, or want to win an argument on the internet (because that's really all life is about), then look no further. Note: many are not properly formatted and still have question marks in place of apostrophes or quotation marks.

Contents

Hi, I'm a Barnard girl

  • Hi I'm a Barnard girl. I only wear clothes bought at thread stores and my "vintage" glasses and I think gender is an out-dated concept. I also brag incessantly at how me and my friends hang out in the "dangerous" parts of Brooklyn and how the NYPD are SUCH ASSHOLES, despite the fact that the only interaction I ever had with a police was when I was 15 and got scolded at for drinking in a public park. I will also waste half of your lesson by giggling and loudly advertising my student group, Lesbians against Mass Incarceration, (I'm straight and white by the way), where I will amaze you at how many times I can say "like" in a single sentence. And to cap it all off, my tits and ass aren't even that good, but it's OK, because all men are chauvinistic pigs and I don't need them anyway.
  • Hi I'm a Columbia guy. I only wear clothes bought at designer stores and my skinny jeans and I think conservatism is an out-dated concept. I also brag incessantly at how me and my friends get so little sleep and have so much homework and how the professors are SUCH ASSHOLES, despite the fact that the only interaction I ever have with them is when I go to class. I will also waste half of your lesson by asking inane questions and loudly advertising my student group, Secular Atheists against Discrimination, (I pretend to be sexually ambiguous but am actually straight and white by the way), where I will amaze you at how many times I can say "marxism" in a single sentence. And to cap it all off, my brains aren't even that good, but it's OK, because all classes are a waste of time and I don't need them anyway.
  • Hi I'm a SEAS kid. I only wear clothes bought at the GAP and my cargo shorts and I think books are an out-dated concept. I also brag incessantly at how me and my friends are going to make so much money with our start up and how the finance suits are SUCH ASSHOLES, despite the fact that the only other job I would want to perform is a quant. I will also waste half of your lesson by breathing loudly and advertising my start up, Date-ly, (I'm a virgin by the way), where I will amaze you at how many times I can say "connectivity" in a single sentence. And to cap it all off, my ideas aren't even that good, but it's OK, because all people are slack-jawed smartphone users anyway.
  • Hi I'm a sorority girl. I usually wear heels and little dresses and I think feminism is an out-dated concept. I also brag incessantly at how me and this sig ep guy i hooked up with are getting really serious, despite the fact that mainly i suck his penis. I will also waste half of your evening by giggling and loudly advertising my philanthropy group that helps Harlem, Beer Drinkers Against Substance Abuse (I'm drunk by the way), where I will amaze you at how many times I can coax frat bros into tossing singles into the donation jar. And to cap it all off, my looks aren't even that good, but it's OK, because I'm majoring in psych and am a serious career woman, anyway.
  • Hi I'm a frat boy. I only wear off the rack clothes and Sperrys and I think privilege is an out-dated concept. I also brag incessantly at how me and my friends hang out with the "hottest" girls in DG and how the NYPD are SUCH ASSHOLES, despite the fact that the only interaction I ever had with a police was when I was a freshman and got scolded at for trying to sneak out of Pike's house during the investigation. I will also waste half of your lesson by snoring and loudly advertising my TOTALLY NOT RACIST Asian-themed rush party, Yellow Fever, (I'm white by the way), where I will amaze you at how many times I can say "chong" in a terrible accent. And to cap it all off, my biceps and abs aren't even that toned, but it's OK, because I don't need consensual sex anyway.
  • Hi I'm a grad student. I haven't paid for any of my clothes, ever (thanks, dad!). and I think capitalism is an outdated concept. I also brag incessantly at how me and my friends understand the human condition and how the i-bankers are SUCH ASSHOLES, despite the fact that I can only afford this terminal masters program because my dad is a banker, and the only interaction I ever had with a banker was when I yelled at one that time at occupy. I will also waste half of your lesson by bragging about my professor advisor and loudly talking about my masters thesis research, (I know I'll never be eric foner by the way), where I will amaze you at how many times I can say "norms" in a single sentence. And to cap it all off, my writing skills aren't even that good, but it's OK, because I don't know what the hell I'm talking about, and it's all relative, anyway.
  • Hi I'm a speccie. I don't wear clothes other than t shirts and jeans and I think reading on paper is an outdated concept. I also brag incessantly about how me and my friend met a real journalist once and how the bwoggers are SUCH ASSHOLES, despite the fact that I secretly wish (current spec EIC) allowed me to have an opinion. I will also waste half of your lesson by tapping at my phone and retweeting articles on twitter, (I have worked 2 unpaid social media internships by the way), where I will amaze you at how many times I can say "web-first strategy" in a single sentence. And to cap it all off, my news writing isn?t even that clean, but it's OK, because i can leverage the shit out of spec alumni networking events.
  • Hi I'm a bwog writer. I only wear clothes bought at J crew and I think objectivity is an out-dated concept. I also brag incessantly at how my posts get so many comments and so many views and how the spec writers are SUCH ASSHOLES, despite the fact that the only interaction I ever had with a speccie was when we exchanged uneasy glances in a lecture hall. I will also waste half of your lesson by making stupid puns and loudly advertising my blog,, (I pretend to be a journalist but have never actually interviewed a source), where I will amaze you at how many times I can say ?tip? in a single sentence. And to cap it all off, my sense of irony isn't even that good, but it's OK, because i would never want to deliberately mean, anyway.
  • Hi I'm a CCSC person. I don't wear clothes other than columbia apparel and my prepster uniform and I think challenging authority is an outdated concept. I also brag incessantly about how me and my friend meet deantini all the time and how the ABC people are SUCH ASSHOLES, despite the fact that I secretly am glad they do my paperwork. I will also waste half of your lesson by talking about a policy you don't care about, (there have been 5 spec opeds and a town hall regarding it by the way), where I will amaze you at how many times I can say "wellness" in a single sentence. And to cap it all off, you didn't even have another person to vote for, but it's OK, because nobody else should get to say they represent the student body, anyway.
  • Hi I'm a GS student. I haven't been able to afford new clothes since high school and I think campus life is an outdated concept. I also brag incessantly at how me and my friend have never hung out on campus and how the younger students are SUCH ASSHOLES, despite the fact that I transferred in when I was only 21 and the only interaction I ever had with a freshman was when they were confused by my grey hair at NSOP. I will also waste half of your lesson by kissing ass and loudly talking about my past bravery in the military, (I was an army graphic designer based in Delaware by the way), where I will amaze you at how many times I can swell my chest in a single sentence. And to cap it all off, my SAT scores aren't even above 550, but it's OK, because grades are not important and dropping out of my last 4 colleges prepared me for a 4.0 here anyway.
  • Hi I'm a little kid that plays on the steps at Low. I only wear clothes that fit my diaper and allow me to haphazardly ride my "razor" scooter and I think that handicap ramps are a lot of fun. My parents also brag incessantly at how one day I will be one of the "big kids" that go to Columbia and how the people in my daycare are SUCH ASSHOLES, despite the fact that the other kids are smarter and cooler than me. I will also proceed to fall off my scooter so you will stop and ask if I am okay, my mom chasing behind me apologizing while worrying that maybe you will kidnap me, (I'm just crying because when I'm at home my parents are too busy to love me by the way), where I will amaze you at how many times I can "fall down" and demand somebody's attention. And to cap it all off, I'm not even that cute or that smart of little kid anyway, but it's okay because my parents are rich and already paid for my condo on the Upper East Side that I can move into in 16 more years.

What did you just say?

  • What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Navy Seals, and I’ve been involved in numerous secret raids on Al-Quaeda, and I have over 300 confirmed kills. I am trained in gorilla warfare and I’m the top sniper in the entire US armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You’re fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that;s just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the United States Marine Corps and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little ‘clever’ comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You’re fucking dead, kiddo.
  • What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Taliban, and I’ve been involved in numerous secret raids on infidels, and I have over 300 confirmed bombings. I am trained in gorilla warfare and I’m the best suicide bomber in the entire Gaza Strip. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Jihad, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of al Qaeda sleeper cells across the Middle East and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You’re fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that’s just with my the bomb strapped to my body. Not only am I extensively trained in suicidal combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of Muhammad’s divine intervention and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what holy retribution your little “clever” comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit righteousness all over you and you will drown in it. You’re fucking dead, kiddo.
  • What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I'll have you know I graduated top of my class in my New England prep school, and I've been involved in numerous Republican fundraisers, and I have over 300 confirmed donations to the republican party. I am trained in polo sailing and I?m the top golfer in the entire New England Prep School Division. You are nothing to me but just another underprivileged nuisance. I will ignore your struggles with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with telling me to check my privlege over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of investment bankers and white politicians across USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your affirmative action. You?re fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can fail to check my privilege in over seven hundred ways, and that's just with my money alone. Not only am I extensively trained in partying on my dad's trust fund, but I have access to the entire arsenal of my dad's bank account and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of my elite institution, you lower class peasant. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little ?clever? comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you wouldn't have told me to check my privilege. But you couldn't, you didn't, and now you're paying the price, you goddamn plebe. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You're fucking dead, kiddo.
  • What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my class from an elite British public school, and I’ve been involved in numerous secret exclusives on Columbia Frats, and I have over 300 confirmed bylines. I am trained in copywriting and I’m the top crime reporter in the entire Ivy League. You are nothing to me but just another story. I will write you the fuck away with precision the likes of which has never been seen before in Morningside Heights, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spec alumni in their various unpaid internships and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call "specsucks". You’re fucking dead, m8. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can report on you in over seven hundred ways, and that’s just with my moleskin notepad. Not only am I extensively trained in K9 Newspaper editing software, but I have access to the entire bored@butler legion and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of this school, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little “clever” email was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have kept your fat, cheeto-stained keys away from your Lenovo. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You’re fucking dead, specsucks scum.
  • What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I?ll have you know I graduated top of my class from the Wharton school of Business, and I?ve been involved in numerous secret credit default swaps with Lehnman brothers, and I have over 300 confirmed sold secuirties packages. I am trained in hostile takeovers and I?m the broker in the entire US financial sector. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe your portfolio the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across Manhattan and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You?re fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can destroy your financial assets you in over seven hundred ways, and that?s just from sitting at my desk. Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the Delta Sig fraternity and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little ?clever? comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn?t, you didn?t, and now you?re paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You?re fucking dead, kiddo.
  • Response to above: Okay, so you expect me to believe that you were the very best that your generation of Wharton had to offer? I highly doubt that. If you were as good as you say you were, i don?t think for a second that you would be browsing b@b. This is mostly a place for jobless neckbeards that still live with their parents, and nerdy SEAS kids that don?t have any friends. It really isn?t the place for highly-trained investment bankers to be hanging out in their spare time. Even if it was, something far worse than a troll being mean to you probably would have set you off a long time ago. What about the slew of gore and pornography that gets posted here on a regular basis? Isn?t that something that deserves a person being hunted down and made to regret their actions? Yeah, you?re just not the b@b type. Sure, there?s a wide variety of people that browse here, but you?re far from the core demograpic if you are who you say you are (which isn?t the case). Even if it were true that you?re an incredibly talented business man, I think all the business dispiline would prevent you from getting mad enough to wipe out the financial assets of some random idiot on the internet. I also doubt that even the best bankers have a ?secret network of spies across the Manhattan?. Why would all of the most expanisive Big Brother network in the world be willing to help a troubled PTSD-sufferer hunt down some random kid on the internet? That doesn?t even make sense. If you?re gonna try to scare somebody, make it more believable than ?IM A SUPER BANKER HURR DURR?. You might frighten a thirteen year old who doesn?t know any better, but to must of us you just look like a kid with an anger problem and a very active imagination. Hopefully things will be easier for you when your puberty?s over. Best of luck with that? kiddo.


  • What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little privileged scum? I'll have you know I'm on full financial aid here and have been involved in numerous brutal attacks by the KKK for being a pansexual, and I have over 300 confirmed fathers and mothers. I am trained in noticing sarcastic privilege response and I'm the top peer responder in all of Ask! Alice. You are nothing to me but just another snide reddit neckbeard with a fedora. I will make you check your privilege with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with sprouting snide meta-sarcasm to me over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of trans-queer-asexual allies across the columbia campus and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, cis scum. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little bubble you call your 'enlightened life'. You're fucking ruined, brave atheist. I can check your privilege anywhere, anytime, in over seven hundred ways, and that's just with my raw knowledge. Not only am I extensively trained in checking privilege , I have access to the entire arsenal of the Barnard Library and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable cis scum ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your snide little meta-ironical comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn't, you didn't, and now you're paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You're fucking dead, heteronormative white male.
  • What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little Rand-basher? I'll have you know I graduated top of Peikoff's class in Objectivism, and I've been involved in numerous internet debates with irrational haters, and I have over 300 confirmed deconstructions. I am trained in the Aristotelian philosophical tradition and I'm the top scholar in the entire Perfectivist movement. You are nothing to me but just another strawman. I will wipe you the fuck out with logic the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit about Rand over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of high school and college students across the USA and your arguments are being analyzed right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your intellectual credibility. You're fucking wrong, hater. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can destroy your arguments in over seven hundred ways, and that's just with my copy of Atlas Shrugged. Not only am I extensively trained in Randian ethics, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the neo-Aristotelian juggernaut and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the humanities, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little "clever" comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn't, you didn't, and now you're paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it.
  • What the fuck did you just fucking discursively perform about me, you little analytic bitch? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Frankfurt School, and I’ve been involved in numerous secret critiques of late capitalism, and I have over 300 confirmed deconstructions. I am trained in phenomenology and I’m the top ubermensch in the entire plane of immanence. You are nothing to me but just another signifier. I will dialectically reason you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the rhizomatic network? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of poststructuralists across the continent and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the sickness unto death, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your Dasein. You’re fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can deterritorialize you in over seven hundred ways, and that’s just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in existential anguish, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the ideological state apparatus and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable body without organs off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy exegesis your little “clever” comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you goddamn Other. I will shit words all over you and you will drown in it. You’re fucking dead, kiddo.

Critiques of b@b

  • I always think you shouldn't be nasty to be people in the internet because you being nasty to them might be the thing that sends the over the edge. They might quite literally kill themselves because of your flippant comment. It's like smiling at old people when you walk past them on the street; that might be the only smile they get that day. Or that month. So it's always worth it, even if you don't feel like smiling.My grandma used to say "a smile costs nothing, but is worth so much". And I like to live by that idea, both IRL and on the internet.Some of the people on here are truly fragile; remember that. The comment you give them on here might be the only interaction they have all day. So make it a positive one.
  • You people are disgusting. After hearing about this website I thought it would be really interesting to see how greek life people interact and discuss important issues but no. All I see is a bunch of conceited privileged assholes mocking anyone not in there super-alpha-secret frat. Maybe if you actually left frat row you'd discover that not everyone is white, upper class and has daddy's money in times of emergency and that people are struggling day in day out with racism, classism and sexism just for trying to be who they are. I'm not coming back here, because you know what? I actually am going to go help those less privileged, socially awkward people instead of just sitting here mocking them and looking for sluts to give rimjobs in carman.
  • I can't believe you fucking morons waste your life here. Listen, this is your LIFE. You need to be living with real human beings. You need to go find a girlfriend and spend time with her. You need to find happiness. Happiness is not in your online games or crappy tinychat, it is in other people.Do you really want to be 40 years old and look back to your 18-25 years and realize you pissed them away in fits of loneliness trolling the spec and crying yourself to sleep? I know most, if not all of you, had no real college or high school experiences because you were too busy being antisocial losers. Change that, now. How much greater would your life be now had you worked up the courage to talk to that one girl and go to cannon's with her? Wouldn't freshman year have been amazing if you actually went out with friends on the weekend and saw movies? This is why you people hate frats so much, because they're full of all these men living the lives YOU wish you were living.Stop wasting your time on the Internet. Look outside and see the trees and the sun. Please. There is a world out there. There are interesting people all over. Why do you want to throw away what is left of your life trolling the bwog comments when real life is full with real consequences and relationships?Are you just afraid? I mean, look at me, I own this boat.
  • They're mostly highly intelligent. That's meaningless to me if they don't care to educate themselves or take a sincere effort to understand social complexes occurring beyond their privileged little spheres. B@B'ers are masters of practicing indifference and engaging in meaningless little rhetorical exercises. Thus the raging dissonance when they encounter people for whom these fancy-sounding, distant sociopolitical issues are actually deadly serious, which is representative of most people I've met at Columbia who chalk hoopla about these kind of issues to college-age idealistic angst (while surrounded by professors, students, administrators around them have actually dedicated literally years of their lives -- massive amounts of time, painstaking effort, and research -- to these causes! It's actually the most ironic thing ever.) I agree that satire can be a useful tool for deconstructing an issue. I do not think that most B@B'ers actually use it as such, because 1) It's difficult to educate yourself on forum like this that values irreverence over sincerity, and 2) they recognize their own intelligence and become irritable and defensive when their intuitions/flippancy are challenged by others. Everyone has been extremely articulate in their replies, but I haven't discerned any substantial differences in argument than on the lowest of Youtube arguments. As for the ones who replied "satirically," well, satirical my ass. Veering an unfamiliar terrain into a comfortable zone of shitty hipster sarcasm, more like.

Sigma Nu / Greek life

  • Gently, oh so gently, I strapped my rollerblades on and then stood up, my naked body wobbling gently on my uncertain feet. Around me, twenty or so other naked guys were already rollerblading in a circle around the basement, pong tables stacked in the middle. Several were dressed as turtles. Suddenly, I felt a strong arm grab me from behind and steady me. I could feel the pair of manly, muscled legs pressed against the back of my thighs. Between my ass cheeks, I felt something throbbing, but I hoped that it wasn't what I thought. I turned my head to see that it was my pledge trainer, smiling softly as he whispered, "I remember when I was a pledge and couldn't rollerblade for shit." He leaned a little closer, brushing his full lips against mine. As he kissed me, I could feel the bulging muscles of his chest pressing against my back, the definition far superior to the 13 that so many claimed was Top Ten on Campus material. While his diminutive partner stood on top of the stacked pong tables, screaming at the pledges that rollerbladed in unison around the tables to rollerblade "faster and quieter," I felt the tip of my favorite pledge trainer's manhood slip inside me. As he shuddered and pressed forward, he whispered, "oh, noooo." And then we began to rollerblade in unison, squirming as we did so. Flesh slapping against flesh as he pounded me, rolling back and forth, the momentum carrying me forward. As the waves of pleasure rolled through me, I could only think, "I wish pledge term never ended..."
  • I'm sorry, but did Sig Nu already get derecognized? Oh, that's right. The semester isn't even over yet. In fact, it's only three-quarters done. Does not having the most noiseproof house on Frat Row mean we need to shut the fuck up? Is that what you're saying? Because if you're saying that I can assure you that you're wrong. Why would you make this post when our house isn't on probation? Delta Sig is still raging right now and they have been the loudest house on the row for how many years now? They're bidding one of the loudest pledge classes in the Ivy League who just think they're cool because they listen to indie bands and got a SWUG all hot and bothered. But you know what? They still fucking suck. Sigma Nu is one of the tightest, nicest, most accepting frats at Columbia. They took ten pledges this semester and would have taken every Julliard exchange student if Delta Sig and Sig Ep hadn't sabotaged their mixers. Maybe you should shut the fuck up before you make retarded posts on b@b. You know why? Because you're going to be embarrassed when the prep-school debaters and swimming team take over Columbia and someone links to these posts.

Oh look at that, Lambda and Q House just got brownstones and all those Sperry-wearing ibanker tools that would have rushed your frat are headed to their open parties instead. Sigma Nu just needed to get a break, like Pike did. Are you a fucking drunk? Are you retarded? Are you autistic? You are a fucking idiot and you should never make a post on b@b again and I'm fucking serious. I almost have a feeling you're the only guy making all these anti-Sigma Nu posts because you're a hydrophobic noise-sensitive homophobe who doesn't like the fraternity because they're accepting and don't have public safety breathing down their necks for every noise violation. Fuck you, be loud at some point during YOUR life and then maybe try to troll these fucking frats on b@b, like I give a fuck. It's so easy to spot out your posts now, you're a retard. Always doing stupid shit like this. Why don't you try to be a good poster? Just for once? For once in your fucking life try not to make a post about Sigma Nu, or having DENCH lick your ass, or Lehigh. That's just you, you're always right at getting it wrong. Fuck you. You are nothing. #sigmanu4eva

  • Probably the best thing about Sigma Nu, even with their skills in the pool, even with their placement into the best investment bank analystships, is the unique views they seem to have about sexuality. More than any other fraternity, Sigma Nu seems to attract the sort of guy who's "heteroflexible," who's had plenty of girlfriends and hooked up with plenty of Barnard first-years, but nevertheless, would still give more than a passing glance to a guy with chiseled abs and a firm, supple ass who's hanging out in their basement past 1. They're the sort of guys who are open-minded about one-time encounters, and can write it off as having one too many drinks and experimenting, during that short collegiate window of opportunity where it's socially acceptable (I mean, everyone does it, right? Right?). And when they're married, with partnerships at various Fortune 500 companies, and their kids, about to enter college themselves, ask, "Daddy, what was it like being in Sigma Nu?" they'll reminisce and wonder about what could have been, and the tender moments shared between two men on those regulation twin-XL beds. And they'll think about the love lost, the love that dare not speak its name. When I graduate this spring, of all my memories at Columbia, the ones I will remember the most dearly and intimately, even in my old age, were in that brownstone on 113th.
  • It's not a real frat, so if you want brotherhood, real bonds, an (actually) affiliated connection to a larger organization, etc, go for an actual fraternity. If you just want to be a hipster, ADP is probably fine for you. People should only rush with this in mind. If you're in a fraternity for the parties and girls, then you've fucked up and are probably not in a "good" fraternity. Fraternities are primarily about bonding with a group of men, sometimes in a house and sometimes not. Literally everything else is entirely tangential. Friends in fraternities are brothers in everything but blood.

That's the main reason I don't approve of ADP, really. They are co-ed, and you just can't form the same type of platonic brotherhood/sisterhood when your organization is co-ed. Just look at Nungesser/Sulkowicz. ADP are great people, have a great house, throw good parties, etc, but they miss out on bonding with a same sex group to the point of platonic brotherhood/sisterhood. It's the main things which makes a fraternity a fraternity. What do you want me to say? Bonding. You enter into a brotherhood with a set of traditions and values that are introduced to you over a pledge process. You make friends for life in this system that you just can't have in any other group. Not that people can't make lifelong friends in non-greek communities or in co-ed greek communities, but the platonic connection in a fraternity just cannot be found in other university organizations.

Specsucks

  • Everytime i see specsucks post i just shake my head and laugh. You severely damaged losers are literally the bronys of b@b. You know? That sub group of 4chan kids who obsess over the preschool girl show my little pony? You probably don't know since all of you pathetic losers are far to busy refreshing spectators twitter feed and fapping to tdh/clit fan fictions porn.Why on earth would a group of you no lifes clinge to heavily to something as sad spec sucks? Is there some sort of mental sickness in you guys? All never lived as children? Do you have no grasp on reality? How can you allow yourselfs to deteriorate to this?At first i figured it was one lonely kid making that wordpress and posting himself all day while crying in the basement for being such a useless life wasting vermon... But then i realized this isnt 1 kid doing this. This is at least 10 or 11 of you in these threads, getting hard over spec sucks. No doubt all of you are fat out of shape friendless autists. So is that the thrill you kids get from these posts? Is it the fact that people in spec can twist and turn and you cant even get off the bed to empty out your piss bottle? Do you realize no hope for you exist to you cling to this newpsaper hate for inspiration? If not then WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR FIXATION? Im speaking for b@b as a whole and possibly your families as well. Just stop. It isnt healthy. Stop.now and try and live a regular life. How embarassed your family must feel when they have to explain to your aunt and uncle that you are an avid specsuckster and yet you cant even walk. Just stop already. Quit with the silly threads. delete the wordpress. Kids, delete the specuscks wordpess bookmark and clear your browser history off all the bwog comments you posted I tell you this because im empathetic and i care. Please listen

Campus media

  • I do not get at all why the Spec and Bwog are such pre-eminent institutions at this fucking school. At no other college do people care so much about reading the newspaper that it becomes this fucking cult phenomenon. Congratulations, your Klout score just passed 60. I'm sure your parents are very proud of their son who, absent any support from his social circle after they were passed over for that "prestigious" NY Post unpaid internship, managed a stellar 2.8 this semester. Perhaps Columbia's twitter feeds constantly need to be populated with the bloviations of entitled liberal ideologues to function. I just don't understand this fascination with the campus press. Do people at Columbia just have nothing better to do than talk online about what other people are doing? Why must ever major event warrant a media circus? Why does Bwog get 300+ comment threads full of essay replies whenever something somewhat newsworthy happens? It says something about Columbia's complete lack of culture when it takes news happening for people to begin giving a shit about the students that go here, even if it's under the guise of Columbia's reputation. At its heart, Columbia, just like any other Ivy, has its grads going to prestigious finance and consulting positions as well as top law, med, and grad schools (...and TFA), and neither the Bwog nor Spec has any relevance whatsoever to these pursuits. At its best, campus media is a fanciful exercise in self-aggrandization through faux "student-leadership" at a school where every traditional measure of campus power, be it political, administrative, or fraternal, is criticized and told to transfer to a Penn or a Dartmouth. We must stop bowing down at the temples of theSpec and Bwog and consuming the drivel that at any university not plagued by mental illness or crippling social anxiety, would be laughed at and spit upon.

Your Columbia Path to Success

  • Your Columbia Path to Success: Get recruited for a varsity sport. Move into Carman early after a COOP advanced hiking trip where you cement your friend circle. Get invited to parties at Delta Sig and Sig Ep during NSOP. Bro out, use connections to get a fake ID, quit varsity sport, join rugby team as a starting player. Detach closet door, use as pong table to make your room a "safe space" for freshman girls. Pledge Sig Ep in the spring, win rush pong tournaments and hook up with DG girls at mixers. Apply to be a COOP leader, break "no sex in the tents" rule. Live on McBain 8 sophomore year, throw monthly penthouse parties to gain campus popularity. Declare major in Financial Econ, taking classes with other bros and paying off international students to ensure you won't have to do more than a single problem set. Load up on Barnard Psychology and Art History courses to get name recognition with hot chicks. Get elected to social chair, live in the house junior year so pledges make your trips to Milano's. Frequent Mel's. Win Mr. Fraternity as your video goes viral on Total Frat Move. Get internship (and job) at PE/VC firm of friend's dad who is one of the top 500 wealthiest people in the country. Pay token amounts to Columbia, get kid in, relax.

British people

  • I fucking hate British women, these ugly tarts couldn't get a bloke like me. Today I was in the pub, talking about Pakis and drinking 1200 pints. My gut was flexing and underage slags in a three furlong radius were getting clammy. Once I was done with my daily 32 hour drinking session I called this bint I know, Chanelle. She's a fucking munter and looks like a bulldog chewing a wasp. So I got into me Transit van and revved it up to 4,000rpm (this is made in the Midlands with a special engine system). I got onto the motorway near my gaff and threw it into 3rd gear, I hit about 60mph and I heard the sonic boom as the transfer case shattered into a million pieces. As I was bezzing it on the motorway like a mad cunt, Chanelle called me and said she wanted me to pick her up some fags and Frosty Jacks. So be it.I came to a full stop from 23mph outside her house. These Leyland DAFs have shite brakes you know. So she walks out the front door, climbs over the sofa in the garden and starts eyeballing the Lamberts and cider. I couldn't tell she was looking at it because she's got a lazy eye. Get in.Flash forward to like 30 minutes later. My 5 inch cock is going inside her clam, hitting them walls. I'm holding her entire body up with both arms because she's fucking massive and she has an asthma attack. She looks me in the eye (I think) and says fat cunt. TDi just kicked in, yo. I spaff on her face so hard she falls off her bunk bed. There had to be about 2 pints of blood everywhere. People say I fuck like a rapist, I wouldn't disagree with them.I throw her a Leeds united shirt so she can clean herself up and then I drink a triple vodka in my Land Rover Defender and drive home

Someone was teaching a class

  • A liberal Muslim homosexual ACLU lawyer professor and abortion doctor was teaching a class on Karl Marx, known atheist

”Before the class begins, you must get on your knees and worship Marx and accept that he was the most highly-evolved being the world has ever known, even greater than Jesus Christ!” At this moment, a brave, patriotic, pro-life Navy SEAL champion who had served 1500 tours of duty and understood the necessity of war and fully supported all military decision made by the United States stood up and held up a rock. ”How old is this rock, pinhead?” The arrogant professor smirked quite Jewishly and smugly replied “4.6 billion years, you stupid Christian” ”Wrong. It’s been 5,000 years since God created it. If it was 4.6 billion years old and evolution, as you say, is real… then it should be an animal now” The professor was visibly shaken, and dropped his chalk and copy of Origin of the Species. He stormed out of the room crying those liberal crocodile tears. The same tears liberals cry for the “poor” (who today live in such luxury that most own refrigerators) when they jealously try to claw justly earned wealth from the deserving job creators. There is no doubt that at this point our professor, DeShawn Washington, wished he had pulled himself up by his bootstraps and become more than a sophist liberal professor. He wished so much that he had a gun to shoot himself from embarrassment, but he himself had petitioned against them! The students applauded and all registered Republican that day and accepted Jesus as their lord and savior. An eagle named “Small Government” flew into the room and perched atop the American Flag and shed a tear on the chalk. The pledge of allegiance was read several times, and God himself showed up and enacted a flat tax rate across the country. The professor lost his tenure and was fired the next day. He died of the gay plague AIDS and was tossed into the lake of fire for all eternity. Semper Fi. p.s. close the borders

  • A white heteronormative cisgendered CEO professor and Baptist preacher was teaching a class on Karl Rove, known Christian.

”Before the class begins, you must get on your knees and worship Jesus Christ and accept that you too can become straight through daily prayer, self-flagellation, and eating Chik-Fil-A every day!” At this moment, a brave, trans-Asian, self-diagnosed pansexual demiromantic vegan multisouled person who had been free of all animal products and only bought products at the local transgender co-op boldly stood up, holding a glass filled with some white liquid. ”Hey, Professor, what is this?” The arrogant professor smirked like a rapist and smugly replied ”It's clearly milk, you crazy homo. What the fuck does milk have to do with political science?” ”Wrong. It's an all natural vegan soy almond kombucha latte. No animals or transpeople were harmed or raped in the making of this product.” The professor was visibly shaken, and dropped his chalk and copy of the Wall Street Journal. He stormed out of the room, clearly planning some kind of rape. The professor realized that he had been playing into the hands of the kyriarchy of CEOs, investment bankers, the Religious Right, and psychiatrists. He then killed himself. The proper term for this is ”trans-dead”. The students checked their privilege, all diagnosed themselves with autism and gender identity disorder and joined the Gay-Straight Alliance. An obese trans-eagle furry otherkin waddled into the room and tried to perch upon the American Flag, bending the flagpole in the process. All parties involved gave up meat, Christianity, and the right to bear arms.

  • An anarcho-syndicalist American analytic philosopher and linguistics professor was teaching a class on Bertrand Russell, known logician.

"Before the class begins, you must get on your knees and worship Russell as the most influential philosopher of the 20th century, even more influential than Jacques Derrida or any other continental philosopher!" At this moment, a brave, psycho-analytic, Hegelian Marxist philosopher and cultural theorist, who fully recognized the weaponisation and ideological basis of instrumental rationality, boldy stood up and tugged at his collar. "My god, pure ideology! How can you ignore the work of Lacan and the Frankfurt School and so on and so on, like that? " The arrogant professor smirked quite Jewishly and smugly replied "Continental philosophy cloaks trvialities in fancy language and uses the scientific-sounding term 'theory' to describe propositions that could never be tested empirically. " "Wrong. If empricism is so important, as you would say, then how come you were so empirically wrong on the Khmer Rouge and Cambodia, and so on and so on?" The professor was visibly shaken, and dropped his chalk and copy of Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus . He stormed out of the room crying those unironic empirically verified crocodile tears. There is no doubt that at this point our professor, Noam Chomsky, wished he had pulled himself up by his bootstraps and become more than an outdated linguist and blindly analytic philosopher. He wished so much that he had an argument to save himself from embarrassment, but he himself had advocated for truth derived from empirical investigation! The students applauded and all dropped out to transfer into the Ecole Normale Superieure that day and accepted French philosophy as superior to both German Idealism and the Anglosphere's Analytic traditions. An eagle named "Critical Theory" flew into the room and perched atop a burning American flag and shed a single tear on the dropped chalk. Sections of Lacan's Seminars were read several times, and the Spirit of Hegel himself showed up and demonstrated the nature of dialectics so vividly that everybody in the room progressed to a trans-physical state transcending conventional notions of time and space. The professor lost his tenure and was fired the next day and was forced to become a panelist on an MSNBC news show to make ends meet. The brave psycho-analytic philosopher's name? Slavoj Zizek.

  • A whorish heathen Red Priest and traitor was teaching a class on Stannis Baratheon, known kinslayer.

”Before the class begins, you must bend the knee to Stannis, rightful King Westeros has ever known, with a stronger claim even than Joffrey!” At this moment, a brave, patriotic, Gods-fearing Westerlander champion who had served 1500 tours of duty and understood the necessity of the Red Wedding and fully supported all military decisions made by House Lannister stood up and held up a picture of Shireen.”What color is her hair, pinhead?” The arrogant professor smirked quite Braavosily and smugly replied “blond, you stupid Southron” “Correct, but Stannis claims that Robert's heirs are bastards because Baratheons cannot father blonds. If the rightful heir of Stannis is blond... then Joffrey, Gods grace him, is the rightful King.” The Red Priest was visibly shaken, and dropped her ruby and copy of Stannis' denunciation of Joffrey. She stormed out of the room crying those traitor crocodile tears. The same tears traitors cry for the Starks (who were responsible for the War of Northern Aggression) when they jealously tried to usurp the throne from the deserving King Joffrey. There is no doubt that at this point our professor, Melly Sanders, wished she had pulled herself up by her bootstraps and become more than a sophist traitorous heathen. She wished so much that she had a Red Wedding to attend at which to be murdered, but she herself had petitioned against them! The students applauded and all bent the knee that day and accepted Joffrey as their liege and savior. A lion named "paid debts" sauntered into the room and lay down beneath the Lannister-Baratheon banner and shed a tear on the ruby. The Rains of Castamere was sung several times and Tywin himself showed up and lent money to everyone present at a generous rate of interest. The Red Priest lost her faith and was excommunicated the next day. She died of the whore's plague syphilis and was eaten by Others with the rest of her traitor king's followers.

  • A Jewish allied homosexual professor and Treaty of Versailles supporter was teaching a class on Theodor Adorno, known Marxist.

"Before the class begins, you must get on your knees and worship Einstein and accept that he was the smartest man ever, even smarter than Gottlob Frege or Karl Schmitt." At this moment, a brave, Aryan, 14/88 SS Obersturmbannfuehrer who had killed 1500 Untermenschen on the Ostfront and understood the necessity of war and fully supported all military decision made by Nazi Germany stood up and showed a picture of an Aryan man. "What can you tell me about this, Rassenschande?" The arrogant professor smirked quite Jewishly and smugly replied "He is just a man, no different from an Untermensch, except the Jews are probably even smarter" "Wrong. It is the proven master race, tracing his lineage back to every people that ever accomplished something and has every right to struggle for Lebensraum." The professor was visibly shaken, and dropped his chalk and copy of das Kapital in Hebrew. He stormed out of the room crying those Schmutzig-Judische crocodile tears. The same tears Judeo-Bolshevists cry for the "gassed" when they jealously try to claw justly earned land from the deserving Uebermenschen. There is no doubt that at this point our professor, Schlomo Marxstein, wished his people were not causing all the troubles the Reich was facing, and wished he didn’t deservedly got what was coming to him for that. The students applauded and all registered to the Nazi party that day and accepted Adolf Hitler as their Feuhrer. A Reichsadler named "Germanentum" flew into the room and perched atop the Nazi flag and shed a tear on the chalk. The first couplet of "Deutschland uber alles" was sung several times, and Thor himself showed up and roused the people for totalen Krieg all across the Reich. The professor lost his tenure and was sent to Auschwitz the next day and didn’t die there because the Holocaust never happened.

  • A reformed Eurocommunist post-Marxist New Leftist Frankfurt School professor and social democrat was teaching a class on Nikita Khrushchev, known revisionist.

"Before the class begins, you must get on your knees and worship Leon Trotsky as the most class conscious revolutionary of all time and accept the Fourth International as the only legitimate representative of the interests of the workers of the world!" At this moment a brave, revolutionary, unreformed Stalinist NKVD veteran who had an appreciation for socialist realist art and read a chapter of Capital every night before going to sleep stood up and waved the red flag. "If Trotsky was so great, why wasn't the revolution permanent?" The arrogant professor smirked quite bourgeoisly and smugly replied, "Because the Soviet Union was a deformed workers state, you idiot gerontocrat!" "Wrong. Comrade Stalin purged Russia of the kulaks and all enemies of the workers. If your theory of revolution was correct, we would have achieved communism by now." The professor was visibly shaken, and dropped his chalk and copy of A People's History of the United States. He stormed out of the room crying those social-fascist crocodile tears. There is no doubt that at this point our professor, Noam Chomsky, wished he had adopted the policies of the Third Period and become more than an infantile leftist bourgeois stooge. He wished so much that he had not betrayed the revolution, but he himself had sold it out! The students applauded and all sang the State Anthem of the USSR and accepted Socialism in One Country as the best path forward for proletarian cause. An eagle named "Slavoj Zizek" flew into the room and perched atop a copy of "Pravda" and sniffed snot onto its print. The last sentence of the "The Communist Manifesto" was read several times, and Sergei Eisenstein himself showed up and demonstrated how to roll a baby down the Odessa steps. The professor lost his tenure and was taken out back and shot the next day. He loved Big Brother. The student's name? Lavrentiy Beria.

  • A marxist post-structuralist continental Ecole Normale Superieure professor and feminist activist was teaching a class on Martin Heidegger, known hermeneuticist.

"Before the class begins, you must get on your knees and worship Nietzsche and accept that his genealogical method was the most highly-evolved theory the continent has ever known, even greater than Hegel's dialectics!" At this moment a brave, rational, positivist analytic philosopher who had read more than 15000 pages of Popper and Wittgenstein and understood the raison d'etre of empricism and fully supported all modern hard sciences stood up and held up the constitution. "How universal is this text, frenchie?" The arrogant professor smirked quite Jewishly and smugly replied "It's not universal at all, fucking positivist, its "truth" is rooted in our shared understandings about culture, the subject and the nexus of power and knowledge." "Wrong. It's been 225 years since human reason created it. if it was not universal, and post-modern relativism, as you say, is real... then it should be regarded as a myth now." The professor was visibly shaken, and dropped his chalk and copy of On Grammatology. He stormed out of the room crying those ironic post-modern crocodile tears. There is no doubt that at this point our professor, Michel Foucault, wished he had pulled hiimself up by his bootstraps and become more than an AIDS ridden sadomasochist interested in fisting. He wished so much that he had some kind of truth to hold on to, but he himself had written to disprove it! The students applauded and all rolled into American universities that day and accepted Wittgenstein as the end of philosophy. An eagle named "Formal logic" flew into the room and perched atop the copy of "Principa Mathematica" and shed a tear on the hardcover. The last sentence of "Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus" was read several times, and Karl Popper himself showed up and demonstrated how dialectics is nothing but a means of justifying contradictions. The professor lost his tenure and was fired the next day. He died of the gay plague AIDS and his "books" were disregarded for all eternity.

  • A sycophantic, salaried, pedophiliac, flute-playing, Athenian sophist and acclaimed rhetorician was teaching a class on Gorgias, known nihilist.

"By Zeus! Before the class begins, you must all get on your knees and pay your respects to Gorgias, and accept that he was the most demonic being the world has ever known, even greater than that of Heraclitus!" At this moment, a wise, ironic, pro-Spartan disciple of Socrates who had courted 1500 young boys and understood the necessity of free education and fully supported all intellectual writings made by the Academy stood up and held up a rock. "I say to you, does this rock exist on the true plane of reality and being, dear teacher?" The arrogant sophist smirked quite relativistically and replied "Certainly, for how else could you bring it into being here, you foolish foreigner?" "Wrong. The Forms are the only true reality and exist beyond this realm of material perception. If it was real, and being, as you say, is contingent to our realm of perception, then it should be identical to all other rocks in 'existence'." The sophist was visibly shaken, and dropped his stylus and copy of On the Non-Existent. He stormed out of the room crying those ironic sophist tears. The same tears sophists cry for the "learned" (who today live in such a state of ignorance that most think they 'have knowledge' of what is pious) when they jealously try to claw justly earned true knowledge from the deserving philosophers. There is no doubt that at this point our sophist, Hypocrites, wished he had pulled himself up by his sandal straps and become more than a sophist, paid-for-hire teacher. He wished so much that he had a sense of objective truth to console himself from embarrassment, but he himself had argued against it! The students applauded and all enrolled into the Academy that day and accepted The One as the incarnation of truth and the Good. An owl named "The Socratic Method" flew into the room and perched atop the Priestess of Delphi and shed a tear on the stylus. Plato’s Republic was read several times, and Socrates himself showed up and claimed that he knew nothing. The sophist lost his standing with the Athenian wealthy and was left homeless the next day. He died in the Thirty Tyrants' Rebellion and reincarnated as a Bronze soul for all eternity.


That Feel When

  • that feel when you're a beta aspie loner in college and you hide in your room outside of lectures, and to get to the toilet you have to pass about 10 social alpha sexy people who laugh and drink and be sexy, so you decide to take shits in black trashcan bags, and store them under your bed to dispose of between 3 and 5am when everyone is asleep, but the smell seeps as each hour passes and you hear people walking past your room saying "eugh what the fuck is that smell, i'm going to call Housing in case it's a burst pipe", and they come to investigate and realizes it's coming from your room, and you slunk out before he looks under the bed, and you sleep rough in the nearby park for the next 3 days because you don't want to see what happened and if he found your shit, and you eventually return 3 days later, and there is a note on your bed saying you have been instructed to leave school indefinitely, and you can't call and tell your parents you have been expelled for shitting in plastic bags and hiding it under your bed so you sleep rough on the streets for the remaining 3 weeks of term time and develop a drug habit and get home for christmas vacation and try to commit suicide and fail and then post on b@b about how you wish everyone were anon because they're all having a good time making jokes with one another


Greentext stories

  • > on the bus, heading home > Alpha male gets on > sits beside girl > immediately strikes up conversation > Soon he moves on to flirting > She is giggling > In no time he is getting her phone number > He coyly smiles, knowing that he's going to get that pussy > I think of how i will never be that Alpha, and a single treat rolls down my face > I can't bear this pain any longer > I get up to leave, but trip over my untied shoe > Everyone is pointing and laughing at me > Get very nervous, feel a fart approaching > Oh no, not again > As i let rip, the smell fills the air > people are shocked and disgusted > The fart still going, shit now starts seeping out > My pants and legs are covered in crap > The shit stream starts getting violent and starts spinning me around uncontrollably > The bus is now completely flooded in watery shit > All the commotion and shit causes the bus driver to swerve and crash head on into a truck > The truck splits open, and reveals the contents it was carrying: Spaghetti > The spaghetti spills out onto the road > Cars slip and slide on the slippery spaghetti > 63 people are killed in the pile up
  • > talking with cute girl at coffee shop > says she loves sports and is a huge heat fan > i fumble for change and only give cashier three quarters > "just like lebrick" he says, clearly an alpha male > girl laughs so hard her vagina discharges fluid > "i-i-ill find another quarter" i mumble > reach into pockets > spaghetti tumbles out > feel fart swelling up in ass crack > cant hold it back much longer > alpha guy talking about putting ketchup in fridge, referring to his penis and her vagina > fart so hard that entire coffee shop notices > mumble some apology but feel the force of the fart propelling me forward > spaghetti tumbles out of pocket > propelled by fart and falling spaghetti i slam into girl > first time ive touched a woman > "please respond" i say > force of spaghetti and fart pushes us into low orbit > get on the floor > everybody do the dinosaur
  • > go to a restaurant for my first date with a girl > pick the table closest to the bathroom so I won't have to walk too far when I go for my postprandial crap > the waiter asks what we'd like to drink > she orders white wine, I ask for a banana milkshake > the waiter tells me they don't serve milkshake so I ask for a bowl of icecream instead > my girlfriend asks why I ordered desert > I tell her I'm going to mush the icecream up and then drink it, and she's probably very impressed but doesn't show it > the waiter sighs and walks away > there's an awkward silence so I ask what her favorite dinosaur is > she says she doesn't know, so I inform her that mine is the pterodactyl > several minutes later, after I've finished recounting the plot of 'Jurassic Park 3', her wine arrives > I ask where my icecream is > the waiter says he will bring it after we've finished our meals > I tut loudly but don't complain > she tells the waiter that she's ready to order and asks for the lobster bisque > he turns to me > "no, it's okay, I brought my own food," I inform him as I place my container of spaghetti on the table > he exclaims something in French and hurries off to the kitchen
  • > At lecture > Really socially awkward > Spend 10 minutes finding a place to sit > Some jock pushes me into a seat next to a hot girl > Some other girl sits next to me > She's accidentally sitting on my cape > "E-E-Excuse me but my...my" > She looks at my computer > Pictures of Spaghetti saved everywhere > She gets up to tell everyone > Everyone gathers around and looks at me, pinning me down by my cape > They find all the spaghetti on my hard drive and start throwing it at me > 5 hours later > Still just lying there, in the empty lecture hall, crying with the lights turned out
  • > Be 10 > playing pokemon on shitter before school > Bus comes outside > I still havent wiped > Mom yells I have to go > Have horrible poison ivy on crotch > Pour a bunch of cream on my penis, put on my pants and run to the bus > Girl I like sits next to me > asks me if ive ever been kissed > I take out my gameboy > She starts whispering in my ear > I start sweating > I look down > The cream is seeping through my jeans, making it look like i cummed > She notices > I notice > I open my fannie pack to grab some kleenexes > My sphagetti falls out all over > I start sweating more > Realize i forgot to wipe my ass > The entire bus smells like shit and sphagetti > bus gets to school > Try and run to bathroom > teacher catches me > its penis inspection day > my name is alan aardvark > I have to go first > Nurse demands For me to take off my pants > I refuse > She wrestles me down, and gets a magnifying glass real close to my crotch > close my eyes and scream the guile theme at the top of my lungs > She unzips my pants, the smell of spaghetti, cream and shit leaks out > she pukes on my dick > I get expelled
  • >Never had a drink before despite being 23 because I heard drinking was bad in my 9th grade health class > Decide to be alpha as fuck and shuffle out of my room for the first time since tuesday > I head down to '1020' to meet this awesome brg guy who has tonnes of awesome heterosexual sex > I get into 1020 and it's crowded as fuck > Tap random guy on the should and whisper > E..e..xcuse me are you 'brg' from the 'boredatbutler' > Looks at me like I'm autistic > Everyone around is looking at me like I'm autistic > Sweating, I can't take it > Decide to leave > Slip on floor which is wet from all the spilt drinks > All my spaghetti falls out from my fanny pack > Everyone's laughing at me > Mfw b@b meetup


Response to a high school senior

The libraries are pretty happening spots. Butler turns into a rave at night, and pretty much all of NYC shows up to the CU campus to party. If you get sick of that, you can easily take a cab downtown and hit up some clubs in Time Square. Olive G is the hot spot right now, and you can get in free with a CU ID. The frats are pretty powerful on campus. If you see somebody wearing a frat blazer, you better get out of his way, he will most likely be your boss in two years, so you better get on their good sides. Other than that, its a pretty cool community. The city may seem huge, but it has a great small town feel and everybody is super chill and friendly. I hope you get in!!!!!!!! It'll be AWESOME!!

No Red Tape concern trolling

  • As a NRT Board Member I would like to make a factual clarification. The beliefs espoused by BC '15 and a few others in the comments do NOT represent what we stand for. Just so you don't mistake this dungeon troll for us I have prepared a handy list below of things we DO stand for:

1) Rape is the single greatest threat to learning. When you are in an environment that is riddled with rapists you are depriving a significant body of the students from the education they are entitled to.

2) Rape is preventable. Men are able to make a decision NOT to rape. It is wholly within their abilities to take time and reflect upon their decisions.

3) Rape must be punished. If rape is not punished you don't get any deterrence. As ordinary legal channels are time-intensive and do not convey the immediate message of disapproval universities nationwide need to swiftly punish rapists. This way men will see the negative consequences of their decisions.

4) Rape must be prevented. If you have sensitivity training then men can be made to understand where they err in their decision making processes. We have already made ten cost-effective proposals to administration involving gender reversal situational awareness programming (the only method that has proven effective). Each one has been rejected without any explanation. If men are made to understand what the experience of rape is like then they tend not to reinforce cycles of victimization.

5) There is no middle ground on rape. Either you wear the red tape or you support rape.

Thank you for your time and please behave responsibly and do what you can for all the survivors on campus they need your support. They need it a lot more than some who resort to hiring expensive lawyers and slandering the institution whose only mistake was offering admission to a rapist.

  • What Sandra said is true. We'd also like to thank everyone's support for our cause. Because of your help, we have gotten President Bollinger's approval for a mandatory sensitivity training for all men who wish to graduate.

Each man will be paired up with a female counterpart to understand her struggles on a day to day. The woman will have the man's contact information, and the man should not contact her in any way after the training has been completed.

During the course of the training, the will be subjected to unsolicited 'compliments' ("you look handsome today", "I would love to tap that", "I bet you are great at sex"), she will feign making sexual advances on him, and he will resist. We will provide each pair with a script to facilitate the interaction. Both subjects will be put in potentially compromising situations such as simulating the interaction of a woman buying a man a drink to explore how rape culture affects us all.

The simulation is meant to enable cis-men to feel what it is like to be placed into a situation where they are subjected to unwanted sexual contact. After each situation, the men are supposed to write a one paragraph description about how they could prevented raping her in such a situation. Gay and trans individuals and people of color need not partake. For those affected, the cost of the training will be added as a separate line item on your tuition bill.

There will be more information available in the coming days as more details are ironed out. Just giving you a preview of what's to come as a thank you for supporting our cause. Congratulations to all of our allies!

  • I think my professor put it best when she told me after class "You can feel a rape, it happens inside you, its not something the law can tell you happened or didn't happen, there isn't any DNA evidence to prove it, you just know it inside of you that what happened had violated you."

That's how it felt for me when I was raped. At the time I didn't even know what that feeling was. But by the second time it happened to me I knew what that feeling was. That's why I was so glad that my professor was able to explain that what I was feeling was rape.

I don't think men mean to be rapists, they just all are rapists. We need to help them so that they can learn that what they are doing is WRONG! I think that there should be a program at the beginning of the school year where men are taken and they are made to feel like they make us feel. If they knew this feeling they wouldn't rape again.

  • What people are failing to account for is the disproportionate violence that is unleashed upon trans-gendered women at Columbia. Far be it for me to out someone but as a MTF Transgendered woman of color I can tell you that there are many women who have gone through the bloodshed to gain their womanhood here. The men of Columbia disproportionately inflict sexual violence upon us to deal with their confused sexual identities. I just wish we could start a dialogue that didn't immediately get down to what is between your legs. No, we could talk this out and get to why you are so concerned with what is between my legs, why you are so interested. Don't rape me when we could have a drink, light on up, and then maybe talk about why you are interested. Maybe I would be interested too if you came at it that way. But instead you want to try victimize my orifice. That's not going to fly anymore because we're united against it. So have fun in the comments if you want but we won't let you rape us anymore.
  • I can tell you what John Doe's name is. ANY WHITE CIS-GENDERED HETEROSEXUAL MAN. Y'all need to consider the damage your whiteness does anywhere it goes. ANd don't give me that "boo-hoo" I'm an ally, I just want to help women and POC. Well I got news for you BACK THE FVCK OFF, we don't need your help, we just need you to stop raping us. Is that so much to ask for? And no, you DO NOT get a round of applause for doing what is the bare minimum expected of a decent human being.
  • I AM a real proud woman of color and I believe dat womyn need some of dat respect if yall no wut i'm sayin. I worked hard... I went to yall colleges and what do i get for dat?? huh. Ya'll men need to take the chill pill cauze when you roll wit real gurlz like me i'll show you whats up. I like my men wit sum MUSCLE cuz when you got that V-taper all the girls wanna rape ya. So go get a thick ass back and you'll have em hoes in da sack!
  • I am a foreign exchange student and in my country these things are not spoken of or at least I don't think they are as it seems many of the concepts are not translatable. Are the girls complaining that the men did not marry them or did not buy them gifts? What is the complaint if someone could explain it simply and perhaps with specific details of what is occurring instead of through vague concepts that I don't understand

Why I Want to Go to Columbia Law School

“Greed is Good” – Gordon Gekko


Part 1: First Comes the Money. [1]

I want to go to Columbia Law School for one reason plain and simple: I want money. I don’t think this should come as yeahany surprise to you my gracious reader.[2] After all, if I wanted to be a judge then this would read “Why I Want to Go to Yale Law.” If I wanted to help some poor, suffering urchins that cling to the bottom of the American Industrial Steamship then I would probably either (A) not be going to law school and instead go to a Sociology Master’s Program so that I could spend the next 8 years pissing and moaning to (who else but!) lawyers about how no one actually does anything for these poor, unfortunate souls (so sad; so true)[3] or[4] (B) go to a worse law school that would give me a scholarship because I’m sure I could out-compete the low lives at a Michigan or a Texas and then still land a comfy little position with the SPLC.

So, as I was saying, I want to go to Columbia mostly to secure a nice job at a prestigious firm in order to maximize my earnings. The average salary coming out of Columbia is easily going to break 150,000 and will have benefits including, but not limited to: overtime pay, free lunches and dinners, car rides home, discounts at gyms (if not a free gym), vacation time and an excuse to wear clothing that serves no purpose to this day other than to remind us that we are the elite and they (oh that proverbial they!) in their clearance rack Polos and Izod slacks are nothing but the filth clinging to the tire treads on my BMW 7 series. All I have to do for this money is endure 3 years of lectures that pretend to teach me ‘theory’ about a ‘system’ of ‘justice.’[5] Then I just sit around in an air-conditioned building and do fairly mindless research for however many hours a week. If I might add at this point, and I don’t put this in a footnote to stress its relevance: the idea that lawyers work hard because they work a lot is an absurdity and logical fallacy which these spoiled children of divorcees and adulterers seem to revel in. I, however, don’t live under this illusion (blatant egotism darling) and so don’t consider the circumstances of the post-law-school-grad particularly dire.

In conclusion, [6] dear reader, I simply want wealth. But why? I have been happy with what I’ve had. What benefit will a more luxurious car or nicer clothing give me? It seems that taking on exponentially more work (in units of time) for presumably marginally better goods (in units of extra luxury) would defy economic intuition.[7] So from whence does money’s utility stem? Well for that we turn to the next section.


Part 2: Then Comes the Power.

To answer the question of “why money?” we need to look at power and social power projection in the United States of America. I went to Michigan for undergraduate study and so, in the grand tradition of Tom Hayden, you can appreciate how much of this was crammed down my throat. I learned one important thing: I am already white; I am already male; I am already a heterosexual. Life sucks for the rest, but as long as I add wealth to the preceding list, I can compensate for the hooknose (God of Abraham; follow?) and attain power.

Columbia Law School would uniquely position me to attain power. But what’s power? Power, my friend, for you are now a friend, basically means access; access to exclusive organizations, clubs, restaurants, schools, neighborhoods, political and social positions, etc. These are the kinds of things that money can’t buy directly but obviously necessitate money.[8] Why the world works this way remains a mystery to me as much as it probably does to you.

And with that power comes the theater of the elite. I can feign interest in world affairs, pretend to develop a palette for fine wine, and act like I actually enjoy the mind numbing conversation of the conservative, Anglo-Saxon, brat next to me explaining how it’s not his[9] responsibility to provide for poor because if they “only saved more” then this wouldn’t be a problem.[10] Of course I will be doing this where else but the finest, most private establishments my greedy, little feet can burst into.

But I leave you, dear reader, at an unfortunately confusing pass yet again. After all, I seem to disdain the privilege I will spend all this time amassing. What then, one wonders, is the point? It cannot be mere ennui. It cannot be ironic. And it cannot be inevitability. These reasons seem too French and I love America too much. So we turn to the final section in this little essay.


Part 3: Then Comes the Women.[11]

Do you hate me dearest reader and affectionate friend? After all of this, it comes down to sex. But what can I say? If one says they go to Columbia Law, that they make over 6 figures, and that they know someone at the such-and-such Yacht Club[12] then they are guaranteed a night of transitory love. And what love is better than that which lasts a night and ends at daybreak?

Ultimately I want something interesting and valuable. I am not shallow. It’s the women that are shallow. I love them each and every one at least as much as I love myself.[13] And I want to break through that shallow exterior into the depths that underlie each gorgeous pair of legs. That is to say, I want to get to know them, if only briefly. And as any biblical scholar will tell you, to be intimate is to know. One can know everything really. But unfortunately the most beautiful girls, the ones with the most slender curves, the flattest bellies, the hardest legs and the softest facial features, that is to say, the interesting ones, require one to play an absurd game.

Is that cruel to say? Not all women are so shallow. But those that can be often are. Some women desire merely strength or smarts. But they too do not interest me. Either insecure or worse: intellectual. Intellectual women bore me. They speak and this kills everything for both of us. My ego and I have a very personal relationship when it comes to discussing anything at all and we don’t like the banalities of estrogen interfering. And so when it does, ego and I can get quite unpleasant.

It is the beautiful ones that interest me, that inspire and entice me. Not just the beautiful ones but also the ones that know that they do not want anything out of a man – not even pleasure. They want material wealth; they want the world and they simply use what skills they have to get it.[14] Naturally one speculates on and wants to understand what they do not possess, do not know and do not understand. And so beauty, raw and physical, is all I want in a woman because I want to understand it.[15] The aesthetic nature of the bosom, the buttock and the calf, to me, are at least as interesting as truth and freedom are to the amateur philosopher (who has not discovered that everything he does and says is a waste). And with each woman comes more knowledge of beauty and pleasure. The cost of this knowledge in turn can be reduced to a mere 3 years and some tuition payments.

And so money, power, sex, love and beauty: that is why I want to go to Columbia Law School. Thank you dear reader. You have been absolutely lovely. I do appreciate your time and patience in bearing with me. Let’s ignore our secular duties for a moment[16]: God knows that I have loved every minute of your company as I’m sure you have loved every minute of mine. And so thank you again and Good-Bye. Ciao. Bon Voyage. Shalom.[17] Kisses.[18]


[1] If you have seen Scarface you can guess the conclusion of this essay and jump down to part 3 or perhaps even just skip this all together: I assure you it’s nothing but an ironic attempt at uniqueness in a genre [the college personal statement] where uniqueness is dead and irony is more cliché than cliché itself.

[2] I hope you don’t mind the affectation—I’ve just been reading Tolstoy. And just to be sure, I’m not trying to impress you; rather, picking up girls at Michigan’s undergraduate orientation is easy if one plays up the smooth, intellectual-type card. Inasmuch, I got bored in front of the library and actually read the book I was holding. Really, truly, honestly vile stuff: totally self-indulgent dribble from a Russian writer consumed in excess that sought misery to assuage some Romantic intuitions about absolutely nothing in the end.

[3] If that struck even the remotest chord it’s because you recognize it as a brilliant literary reference to Disney’s The Little Mermaid. Copyright 1987.

[4] This is an example of poor writing on my part: One should never enumerate in-paragraph unless they don’t add predicates to the enumerated subjects because it gets jarring, confusing and it corrupts the structure. One also shouldn’t add footnotes to try and cover up for poor writing: it’s cheap, tawdry, pretentious and indulgent. I’ll fit right in, won’t I?

[5] Inasmuch as a system of justice can still exist or does still exist or has ever existed. To be sure, again, I’m not trying to impress upon you that I’m some pathetic Zinn-reading, Village-strolling, Ginsberg-wannabe. I.e., I don’t maintain that we’re in some Foucault inspired totalizing dystopia nor that some sinister forefathers did everything in their power to screw us all over. Rather, I think it’s all theater, theater, theater and ego, ego, ego.

[6] That’s really the best I have. Forgive me and I’ll make it up to you later?

[7] Kind reader, I suggest you quickly review the economic concepts of labor-leisure trade off and the back bending supply curve. Follow this with a quick read over on decreasing marginal returns. Without these two crucial concepts I’m afraid the last sentence’s power will be lost on you. Admittedly I explained little and that is not my fault—I am the victim of spatial constraints.

[8] At least to some extent: money cannot compensate for poor pedigree but sometimes a pedigree can accomplish the vice versa. Missus Blanche DuBois serves canonically here.

[9] This might be the best time to mention that I am well aware of my use gendered pronouns. I can assure you, however, that is quite intentional and not mere habit. I am well aware that women can be lawyers too. But power? Let’s not kid ourselves. Joking! How anachronistic of me. Unfortunately we don’t have a set of pronouns for the subset of women who stick to pant suits and the sort of indignant ill-humor that will ensure the only man they land will have the spine of an amoeba (or the fidelity of Don Juan). And so I use male pronouns liberally.

[10] One might mistake this last sentence for a bit of enmity towards the elite and empathy with the poor. Nothing could be further from the truth: I only find the total bastardization of economic theory by the “Economics 101 Elites” a tad annoying. Personally, I don’t think the poor are my responsibility because I am not poor.

[11] A few casual friends (and thus self-appointed editors and critics) have suggested that the next section loses some of the wittier, oomphier, crasser banter of the preceding sections. Apologies. Apparently variety and meaningful apogee play second fiddle to jokes about class and brains. On the other hand, the misogyny, I’ve been told, surpasses the line of satire. Swift and I will be dining on babies together in Hell, I fear.

[12] At long last, my own Midwestern, middle class and mediocre upbringing sheepishly surfaces. I confess ignorance! Where do the rich and powerful hang out in the City? My images remain firmly entrenched in the archaic descriptions of Fitzgerald and Salinger. And so yet another benefit of Columbia Law School rears its head—at long last I can begin my training for entry into the culture of the spoiled, the undeserving and the entitled.

[13] Exercise: Using the clues provided in this essay, determine how much this writer and candidate loves himself.

[14] To avoid making this any longer I will reproduce a simple enough analogy. Venus : Beauty :: Hilary Clinton : Force of will :: Madame Curie : Genius :: A handyman : a hammer. What difference does it make what endowment is used to achieve the same end?

[15] For those who missed out on the subtle inference – I consider myself quite unattractive and easily attainable. It’s true; in the realm of physiognomy I am as insecure as a thirteen year old trying a cigarette for the first time. I use parody and humor to compensate. Then I dryly and blandly make ironic self-referential statements about it. Then I point out my bland irony to compensate for my lack of originality. This goes on and on, much like a certain, popular Sherry Lewis song.

[16] But for only a moment! Serious faith in God is the only true sin. Lest we end up like those boorish Southerners! We use money to separate ourselves from the Wretched of the Earth, but we would never speak ill of them. That is for the compassionate Christians.

[17] Originally I had the idea of sarcastically saying goodbye in as many languages as possible and making this list go on for the remainder of this page. Luckily I realized that (A) this is stupid, (B) this is a waste of both our time and (C) I know how to say Good-Bye in about 4 languages. So you’re welcome dear reader—that was my last favor to you.

[18] Writing tip: one should hope the final footnote is as clever and memorable as the rest. Otherwise a sour taste is left in the mouth of the reader. This, then, is an example of what not to do.

Ready for Hillary: CCSC Edition

I need to say this because it gives me peace. "I LOVE (CANDIDATE NAME)". Please keep him/her stay competitive in the race by post about the campaign. Ask another to vote for him/her. Don't let s/he lose due to lack of vote. S/he deserves a better chance for a shot at the Council. Give him/her that chance. Spec and Bwog is already unfair toward him/her. We can try to make it a fair fight by emailing listservs and knocking on freshmen dorms at 11 PM.

Art History thesis

Lol you guys need to take a deep breath and count to 10. Seriously, the sculpture is "offensive?" It's an "arrogant middle finger to the world?" Come on. Of all the actual issues taking place in and around Columbia, you're spending your time protesting a modernist bronze?

Also, your actual criticisms of the sculpture and its effects on the built environment of campus are really facile, verging on completely meaningless (maybe consult with an art historian next time you want to craft an argument about art, or at least look over your Art Hum notes). Is this like a weird parody or something?

That’s true, I guess column space is not a zero sum game in the digital world. I also will say that I agree with parts of this article: namely, that the university’s super low-key announcement does seem inappropriate, and that it is a bummer to lose more green space.

Your arguments are, correct me if I’m wrong, that 1) the sculpture is bad because the four of you think it’s ugly, and 2) the sculpture is bad because you think new things shouldn’t be placed next to old things. The first point seems to be based on purely formal similarities. It’s a meaningless criticism that makes for a weak argument. You write that the piece is “an idealization of a chewed wad of gum,” a “dying mantis,” and a “poorly formed pterodactyl.” I think, actually, it’s an idealization of a reclining woman. Is this an argument against abstraction in general? You only like literal representations of things? You don’t like pterodactyls? What is the point here? The problem here is that this reads like an expression of your own personal tastes; you don’t like the particular lines and shapes of the sculpture, but anyone else could just as easily argue the opposite because these aren't grounded in any shared systems of valuation. I guess we’ll find out with your Google Doc.

You write that the thieves who stole Moore’s cast scrapped it because it was “so repulsive.” Actually, they probably scrapped it because they needed money—hence becoming thieves--and couldn't find an easy way to illegally sell a 2-ton, hotly-monitored sculpture by a canonical artist. I somehow doubt they looked at the sculpture and seriously debated, what, hanging onto it? Putting it into their secret sculpture garden?

This first argument about the ‘artistic merit’ of the sculpture is really frivolous, and I think you guys know that—you obviously had some fun writing it (kudos for your imaginative similes). The real point seems to be that you don’t like looking at old things and new things next to each other, and that the Moore sculpture will somehow detract from the experience of looking at Low or Butler. First of all, you can see Lerner Hall—surely the epitome of hideous postmodernist architecture—as well as Northwest Corner Building, Carman, and SIPA from basically any point between Low and Butler, so if you’re trying to keep up the illusion that Columbia is still a late-19th century enclave of neoclassicism, you already lost the game. I guess your argument is that we shouldn’t allow Columbia to ‘worsen’ the state of affairs, and should instead hide this sculpture away like the other weird abstract ones, perhaps somewhere in a broom closet in Schermerhorn Extension.

Regarding the other modern sculptures on campus: Can’t you also argue that, for example, The Curl impedes views of Avery Library? I’m an art history student, so actually Avery is “my library, my athenaeum,” and I resent The Curl for besmirching my beloved. Just kidding, I hate Avery, but my point is that it’s a losing battle to argue that the built environment should be static.

Here’s the rub: Columbia, like New York in general, is a palimpsest whose value and continuing relevance comes from the interaction between old and new. Why not have a campus that reflects the ethos of our own postmodern time—why not argue for inclusion, multiplicity, and the importance of interactions between different value systems, instead of pretending that it makes ethical sense to keep privileging an architectural environment that emerged from the personal worldviews of elite white American architects and academics who lived hundreds of years ago? We update the Core, why can’t we update the campus?

And come on, I’m only arguing for mainstream European modernism here. You’d think I was defending some kind of outrageous or polemical contemporary artwork. Despite your alternately joking (snarky YouTube clip) and then suddenly overblown and moralizing tone (ranting and raving about how this is a “monstrosity” and an “offensive” “middle finger to the world” and “our athenaeum”), the sculpture is really harmless in terms of actual content (while Barnard gets a cool and genuinely subversive Jenny Holzer sculpture). It’s a nude female figure, i.e., the most conservative subject in all of art history.

Feel free to not respond, I know this response is really long and the stakes are pretty low here. But if you have the time and inclination, I'm game.

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