Everybody Wants Some!!, the latest by Richard Linklater, that great subtle anthropologist of the mundane and the minute, concerns a bunch of douchebag jocks. The entire movie is a prolonged testosterone-driven hunt for T & A, with lots of beer and competitive ball-busting in between. Every character in the movie is a derelict, a meathead or a womanizer. I loved every single minute of it. The movie is a joyride, every bit as good as Linklater’s perennial high school classic Dazed and Confused, and is destined to become one of the great American collegiate slacker films, up there with Animal House.
If we were all celebrities, I would probably be the washed-out, child star. Something tells me I wouldn’t be alone, either. Many of us achieved small-scale, but early eminence before enrolling at Cornell. Never basis to preen about campus, accomplished pasts may actually encumber us with misguided aspirations toward grand-scale successes. This time of year, our ambitious inclinations materialize in onerous searches for ready-to-commodify summer experiences.
My professor asked a class of 217 if we knew what a “one-night stand” was. After the awkward “I-have-totally-been-there-and-done-that” laughter, he proceeded, “I think you guys call it ‘hooking up,’ You know, in my day, it was a single, one-night performance.” There are two social problems here. First, the Merriam-Webster Dictionary lists the sexual definition for a one-night stand: “a situation in which you have sex with someone once and you do not continue in a relationship afterwards” as the only significant definition, and, second, there is no way that every single person reading this agrees that a ‘one-night stand’ is the definition of ‘hooking-up.’
So, how do we define hookups? And why are they, however we choose to define them, integrated as such a norm in our lives? I’m sure you’ve either used or heard the phrase “Cornell has a really strong hook-up culture.” I think this can fairly be interpreted as a result of alcohol, grinding and *insert type of sexual activity*.
Three years ago at a friend’s Collegetown party, I was sitting on a couch next to a guy holding a beer the way a child clutches a security blanket. Amidst the dark atmosphere and loud music, he turned to me and urged me to enjoy myself while I was at college. “The world”, he told me, “says these are the best years of our life.”
Whether you have felt that way or not throughout your time at Cornell, you will almost certainly feel it in the next few days as your Cornell undergraduate experience draws to a close. As you experience your last Slope Day. As you leave your extracurriculars. As you entrust your leadership positions to other people. As you bid farewell to your friends on Graduation Day.
Every summer my parents sent us to summer camp in Bumfuck, CA, in the central valley. No man’s land, if you will, where a crisp 104 degrees is just how the malaria-carrying insects like it. I would write home every day in the stationery they gave me to plead with them to bring me home. When that didn’t work, they certainly regretted giving me my grandparents’ addresses. My nearly-90 year old grandfather barged into their living room one Saturday in early July demanding to know why they sent me to a place where they made me eat spiders.
The debate over college rankings took off earlier this year, when an article in The Washington Post revealed that U.S. News and World Report was using an arbitrary average SAT score to rank Sarah Lawrence College after the school stopped requiring SAT scores from its applicants.
On Sept. 7, 19 presidents of top liberal arts colleges signed a statement that discouraged the use of college rankings. Colleges that signed the statement aimed to reduce bias in the admissions process.
The statement read, “We commit not to mention … rankings in any of our new publications.”