Dear Prospective Student: Welcome to the hands-down tied for ninth best place on Earth. By now, you may or may not have been "dung" by that college you foolishly attempted to dirty rush, and it's time to realize that Dartmouth is the right house for you. Be proud. The size of this year's applicant pool expanded thanks to Global Warming and "Grey's Anatomy," and you are part of the sweet clique that was tapped to join our uber-exclusive scene. "Dimensions of Dartmouth" has been carefully planned to make this upcoming, identity-defining, earthquake-inducing decision of yours as informed as possible. This column has been planned to brainwash you into joining our forest-engulfed cult.
I thought it would be nice to hook you up with a little tour of how deceptive it is that someone decided to call this weekend "Dimensions of Dartmouth." I don't know about you guys, but when I was a prospie I was straight up expecting that the weekend package would include Magic Eye brochures, a free pair of those cardboard 3-D glasses, a hookah-smoking caterpillar and an unlimited supply of hallucinogenic soft drinks. Hate to say it, kids, but the weekend isn't as psychedelic as it sounds.
The misleading title of this weekend is most likely the first of many "Deceptions of Dartmouth" that you've been shoveled, dear prospie. Allow me to identify a few more. To start with, let's get back to that whole "tied for ninth" piece. News flash: another one of these "deceptions." You've made it through the screening, and now that you're in, we're happy to reveal the logic behind our "Number Nine" disguise. See, we have a really swell library here at this fun-loving school. This nice, well-organized library is full of chill, cooperative students who enjoy one another's company, and have no interest in secretly ripping out pages of the books that are essential to tomorrow's exam so that everyone else in the class fails, muu-ha-HA!
Dartmouth is, without question, the number one college ever invented; however, we prefer to have this little fact kept "off the record" in order to steer all hyper-competitive, book-shredding geeks away from our little woodland retreat and down the road to the nerd-bot battlefields of Cambridge and New Haven.
That said, all non-vicious geeks should feel free to flock right on through our gates and join all of us "sweet-a-dweebs" in our efforts to trick future prospies into thinking that we're cool.
Those Dartmouth info pamphlets that you've been hauling around in your fanny packs totally overlook the most persuasive reasons to join Team Big Green. First of all, our mascot is a clear incentive to "Go Dartmouth."
Let's first consider the competition: Yale's mascot is a forest-deprived dog with a ton of homework, Brown's is a honey-pot smoking bear that doesn't get grades and Princeton's is a pretentious, baby-gobbling Tiger. Penn's mascot is a Quaker (no comment), Harvard's is a Pilgrim (yep!) and Cornell's is a student leaping into a gorge. The Big Green is an intentionally vague mascot because Dartmouth strives to foster the imaginations of its students. Every one of us has a different notion of how this "Big Green" is embodied. The inferior imaginations of outsiders assume that the referent is the lawn at the center of our campus. My own vision of our mascot isn't quite as flat and involves fewer Frisbees and more fangs. My friend, who also happens to be a hippie, has always envisioned our mascot as a Captain Planet-like force, embodied by a Godzilla-sized version of one of those pistachio muffins at the Hop. Everyone else imagines Keggy the Keg.
Another reason to go Green is related to our remarkable student population.
I understand that those booklets they're giving you discuss how Dartmouth students are all really outdoorsy and buff and ambidextrous and whatnot. Those are fine little facts and all, but I was shocked that they failed to mention the hands-down most outstanding feature of our student bodies: our butt-implants.
Look around, Prospie. You will notice that Dartmouth kids all around you are magically opening the doors to their dorms by raising their (remarkably fit/outdoorsy) asses to the little, black boxes in the doorways of the buildings. Amazing! You see, in accordance with Dartmouth's effort to always be at the forefront of the latest technology, our school has planted microchip keycards into the fannies of its student bodies. This way, we students are never distracted from our technology research by having to keep track of our keys (which could easily be stolen by bad guys who want to break into our dorms and steal our inventions). Note: some students were weirded out about having little computers housed in their butt-cheeks, so those kids opted to have their chips planted in their "Dartmouth Cards." The rest of us (the brave ones) went for the butt-implant. We all agree that it was the best decision we ever made.
The second best decision we ever made was picking Dartmouth over [insert lame college here]. Now. you can make this great decision, too! I mean, no peer pressure or anything. Remember, Mr./Mrs./Dr. Prospie: all the cool kids may be doing it, but that doesn't mean you have to. [Insert second inappropriate cliff-related Cornell joke here.]
Now's probably a good time to change the subject. Let's see, where was I? Dartmouth ... Beer-slinging Blutos ... Oh yes! I wanted to close by assuring you prospies that although Dartmouth may have a "Work Hard at Partying Hard" reputation, the reality is that the biggest party on campus is always going down at Phi Phloor Berry, a.k.a. the "Slybes" and known to others as -- um, the library. Here at Dartmouth, students typically only go out on Wednesdays, Fridays, Saturdays, and Mondays (and Tuesdays for Murphy's Trivia, but I'd say that counts as academic).
The other nights of the week, we study really, excruciatingly hard. You '10s were all admitted because the admissions officers had faith that you would be capable of keeping up with this rigorous schedule.
All we'll ask of you next year is that you prioritize fun, run around outside sometimes, rock every exam/paper you're issued, not shred our books, not throw off the curve, not get us on probation and not refuse to touch the fire. Those of you who were recruited by Dartmouth for the Undergrad Murphy's Trivia Squad will be expected to prioritize your training, and not worry too much about your rage point average. We need you to whoop that irritating Med Student Team and make them regret that they ever picked that nerd-bot college over Dartmouth.
- Peer-Pressure ya Later!
