Yesterday I was playing "Risk: The Game of World Domination" and I got to thinking. Yes, thinking. You may ask, "What Tom? What were you thinking?" Now, answers to this question may normally include anything from "I was just really thinking that branch would support me" to "I was just really thinking she was a woman." In this instance however, I was thinking something far less emotionally scarring. I was thinking that it's about time we made our move on the rest of the Ivy League.
You see, in yesterday's battle I had my stronghold of Australia nicely secured pretty early on. Any experienced Risk player would tell you that holding down Australia first, then slowly working your way up the east coast of Asia, while your opponents kill each other over Europe and Northern Africa, is a pretty surefire path to victory.
Yesterday, however, I was stymied. Sure I was writing this column in-between moves, sure I had been doming Colt 45 since 9:30 a.m.; these excuses have little to do with why I lost. I lost because I didn't make my move when the time presented itself. I don't make the same mistake twice. The time has come for us to make our move.
The other schools are looking especially weak. (Fifteenth place? Are you f-ing serious Brown?) I'm also pretty sure that they won't be prepared for full-scale combat any time soon. But, you may ask, "Are we prepared?" The answer is a resounding yes.
You were wondering where the WMD's in Iraq were? Here's a hint: They're in the Bema. I traded Saddam for a Horace Grant rookie card, a beard trimmer and a case of Mad Dog 20/20, straight up. Dude loves Banana Red.
In any event, the time has come and, I must say, we couldn't be better naturally positioned from the outset. Dartmouth, it is fair to assume, is the Australia/Southeast Asia block of the Ivy-League schools.
Both are hidden away on the map, both are well-protected by Siam and Mongolia, and both are overrun with rabid marsupials. In addition, much like India and China, our human resources are simply unmatched (Hi, outsourcing!). Whether we choose to battle by hand, foot or Polo shirt, the prototypical Dartmouth Man (read: Stephanie Herbert) has the upper-hand over pretty much all of the other collective student-bodies. That is, just as long as they don't pick football or men's basketball as the agreed-upon weapon of choice.
In addition, our field leadership is unparalleled. The way I see it, we'd have Noah Riner leading the battalion affectionately known as "the Navigators." They would be boarded on crew boats and would be the heart (read: soul) of our naval attack. Whenever not engaged in battle, these "fishers of men" will head up our Recruitment and Brainwashing Division, designed to keep our ranks well stocked with blonde-haired, blue-eyed believers.
Leading our cavalry will be that kid I always see walking around campus with his girly equestrian pants and hat on. That kid looks like a douche, but I bet he rides a mean horse.
Thad Olchowski '08, better known to last year's The D readers as "Freshman Jumper Ends Chi Gam Party," would lead a para-trooping force that could infiltrate even the most stalwart opposition, raining down on their victims with armloads of ninja stars and Indian burns. When reached for comment on his imminent promotion to military demi-god, Olchowski noted, "I'm straight up crazy. No sh*tting you. I never forget." Three words: Bid him up.
The Dartmouth Review staffers will comprise our sole infantry platoon. We have yet to decide whether or not to arm them.
So yes, Dartmouth is a force to be reckoned with. But what can we say for our foes? When asked, facetime-addict Caleb Powers '08, The Dartmouth Staff, had these words on the subject: "What do you think of when you think of the Ivy League? Prestigious, high-quality educations for privileged New England prep school grads. What do you think of when you think of the game Risk? Hot and steamy girl-on-girl ass-fests. We're all going places. Think about it." And frankly, I couldn't agree more, so let's take a look at our opposition.
Cornell: The redheaded stepchild of the Ivy League, Cornell would bend at our will pretty quickly, I imagine. Their massive student population gives them the defensive advantage of rolling two white dice against our three red attacking every time, but their underdeveloped math skills make me reasonably sure that they wouldn't be able to recognize that our four does not in fact beat their five in a heads-up comparison.
UPenn: Or should I say Kamchatka. No one even knows this school is in the Ivy League. I figure we just deny their existence to their face. The shame spiral should put a sizeable hole in their defenses, which should be easily breeched by LaRonne and the rest of the boys at the Hop.
Columbia: Cowards.
Brown: B-side cowards.
Harvard and Princeton: For these terrible schools, I say we bring out the big guns and appeal to Harvard and Princeton students' lame aspirations toward being "real college kids." A true Dartmouth Man will simply pull their trigger on your Uggz if you tell them they can't drink, but nerdwads and richboys take great offense if you call their college-ness into question. I say we challenge them to a boat-race, and while they struggle to keep up, we send some troops into their dorm rooms to rip down their Mixology posters and unscrew their jalapeno Christmas lights. This may not physically harm them in any way, but I'm reasonably confident that it would send a large number of them running home, crying to mom and dad.
Yale: This final conquest is likely to also prove the most imposing, as it is fair to assume that the mean streets of New Haven will offer their own challenges while we battle a school that already manages to boast its fair share of cokeheads and future world leaders -- sometimes both-in-one. Wait for it ... wait for it ... annnnd Kappa just got the joke.
So there you have it. The blueprints have been drawn. Now we just need the right voice of the people to take up the cause. Are you there Blake Johnson '05? It's me, Margaret.
