Hoards of students returned to Ithaca in waves last Monday, a full week before the scheduled start of classes, in order to rush sororities and fraternities. While sorority rush is strictly dry and confined to the daytime, men rushing the Greek system are encouraged to attend late-night beer-soaked parties at prospective houses.

The Inter Fraternity Council points to statistics suggesting that evening events are only of secondary importance to students who consider joining a house; the fraternities themselves, however, continue to lavish outlandish sums of money on rush week parties, and it is not uncommon, as a result, for a house’s rush budget to run in the tens of thousands of dollars.

Recently, there has been some discussion around the Greek community to implement a dry rush policy for fraternity recruitment this coming rush week.

During rush week, fraternities attract potential candidates at night through different events such as parties, dinners at area restaurants, and trips to sporting events and casinos. More times than not, alcohol is present.

Under a new dry rush policy, individuals, regardless of age, would be prohibited from consuming alcohol for one, several, or all days of rush week.

A car traveling east on Rt. 79 carrying five students — four from SUNY Binghamton and one from the University of Michigan — crashed on Friday night, leaving one student dead and another charged with vehicular manslaughter. The students were leaving Cornell after attending the University's Slope Day festivities.

According to the Ithaca Journal, 22-year-old Willie Poon was pronounced dead at Cayuga Medical Center on Saturday morning due to a fatal head injury.

Can you believe the nonsense: when R was in high school, she spent the summer of her 16th year doing what all nerdy-nerds do. She took some classes. Sure, she chilled too, but she took some classes. She did some homework. She studied her nerdy little heart out, took some mad hard tests and sacrificed suns and funs, all in the pursuit of one aim: earning college credit.

Imagine you’re walking down the street, minding your own business when suddenly it approaches: something between the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man and Will Ferrell with a tranquilizer dart in his neck, leaving behind a trail of booze, sweat and drool in its path. What a horror! You exclaim, as it slowly gets bigger and bigger, crying “mmmmmf I waaan sanwichesss! And peeeezzaaaa!” and as you dive to avoid its pale, blubbery, annoying wrath, you see it, and then you know: side boob. What we have here is a big, fat, mess.