The weary Friday sun sets on Libe Slope, and Cornell’s alter ego emerges as the night falls. Slews of students trade in their books for beer, marking the paradigm shift from the intellectual atmosphere of day to the Collegetown mosh pits of night. The pregame, party, hangover cycle starts anew as the academic weekday Jekyll morphs into the partying weekend Hyde. Our campus is many things — from an intellectual community to a research powerhouse (or whatever else the admissions brochures say) — but come nightfall, we must accept our nocturnal reality as a party school. A turn-on for some, a red flag for others, the label exists.
“The amount of grain that you use and the amount of water that you use to cook the grain, has an impact on how much sugar you get in the solution before it’s fermented into alcohol; that is directly related to the alcohol content of the final beer,” Bershaw said.
On Oct. 23, The Sun’s headline read “Near-Naked Cornell Runner Attacks 2 Women, Threatens to Rape Them After Taking ‘Acid.’”
I remember reading that. I released an exasperated puff and thought to myself, “I cannot believe that this happens at Cornell.” As I pondered it more, however, I realized, obviously this happens at Cornell. In fact, I’m surprised (but grateful), we haven’t seen worse. We live in a world of athletes dropping acid and stumbling bleary-eyed around parties preying on freshman girls.
We are nearing the end of January, which means a few things. One, we recently returned to school and after a long and dry winter break, many of us are back to swiping right and left on our phones. Two, we are approaching Valentine’s Day, which personally doesn’t mean much, but renders me a little lonely nonetheless. And three, we are in the midst of cuffing season, and even the most free-spirited of Sex on Thursday writers are looking for a long-term cuddle buddy. Unfortunately, the new semester plus cold weather plus a sprinkle of desperation can lead to some bad decisions.
I was standing somewhere on a Friday night during my freshman year when a stranger asked if I wanted to hear the secret of beer pong. I don’t remember what he looked like, just that his face held an expression of profound serenity and compassion. “The secret of beer pong,” he said, “is to throw the ball into the cup.” I asked him what the hell he meant by that. “Beer pong is a metaphor for life,” he said. “What is it to exist but to throw a ball into a cup?
Colleges across the country struggle with the issue of high risk drinking. With their newfound freedom, undergraduate students are uniquely susceptible to dangerous drinking habits that can put their lives at risk and lead to a myriad of unintended negative consequences. Administrators and university policy makers are often put in the bind of adopting policies that both enforce laws and encourage students to be safe, while also recognizing the reality of alcohol use on college campuses and the need for pragmatic solutions that encourage students to request medical attention when it is needed. Our University is unique in the way that it addresses high risk drinking — largely because of its Medical Amnesty Protocol, which allows for students to call for emergency services and receive care, while removing any liability from other illicit violations such as underage drinking or possession of alcohol or other drugs. In creating Medical Amnesty Protocol, the University took a bold step to encourage students to consider their safety and well-being above the fear of getting in trouble.
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.