The Gadfly, Croquet Issue

!"# !

"#$%&'

St. John’s College • 60 College Ave, Annapolis, MD 21401 • Apr. 28, 2012 • Vol. XXXIII • Issue 23

1983 - 2012 30 Years of Croquet

Croquet Myths

If You Build It

Meet the Teams

L. P.

Ian Tuttle, sophomore and Assistant Editor of The Gadfly, recounts the legends surrounding the origins of the historic Annapolis Cup.

Senior Johnnie Fleming, Imperial Wicket, shares his perspective on the new Croquet policies, as well as the St. John’s community as a whole.

The Gadfly introduces the St. John’s College Annapolis 2012 Croquet Team and their challengers from the U.S. Naval Academy.

Jonathan Barone pens a thoughtful tribute to the venerable Leo Pickens (A’78), outgoing Athletic Director of St. John’s College.

>> Page 04

>> Page 05

>> Pages 06-09

>> Page 10

the gadfly

!"

The student newspaper of St. John’s College 60 College Avenue Annapolis, Maryland 21401 gadfly@sjca.edu Founded in 1980, The Gadfly is the student newspaper distributed to over 600 students, faculty, and staff of the Annapolis campus.

Opinions expressed within are the sole responsibility of the author(s). The Gadfly reserves the right to accept, reject, and edit submissions in any way necessary to publish the most professional, informative, and thought-provoking newspaper which circumstances at St. John’s College permit.

Articles submitted will be edited for grammar, punctuation, spelling, and length in most cases. The Gadfly is not obligated to publish all submissions except under special circumstances.

The Gadfly meets every Sunday at 7 PM in the lower level of the Barr-Buchanan Center.

Articles should be submitted by Friday at 11:59 PM to gadfly@sjca.edu.

Editorial Staff

./01*012

Danny Kraft • Editor-in-Chief Grace Tyson • Editor-in-Chief Nathan Goldman • Assistant Editor Ian Tuttle • Assistant Editor Hayden Pendergrass • Layout Editor Amy Stewart • Layout Editor Sebastian Abella • Asst. Layout Editor Hau Hoang • Asst. Layout Editor Jonathan Whitcomb-Dixon • Asst. Layout Editor Honore Hodgson • Business Manager Reza Djalal • Photographer Henley Moore • Photographer

34%.5/67*1%

Pg. 2 • Letter from the Editors Pg. 3 • A Spectator’s Guide to the Rules of Croquet by Annemarie Catania Pg. 4 • The Mythology of the Annapolis Cup by Ian Tuttle Pg. 5 • If You Build It, They Will Come

by Johnnie Fleming Pg. 5 • Croquet Explained

by Tommy Berry

38%19*%1*:;2

Pg. 6 • The 2012 U.S. Naval Academy Croquet Team Pg. 8 • The 2012 St. John’s College Croquet Team

43%19*%./!!*<* Pg. 10 • A Portrait of Leo Pickens as the Athletic Director by Jon Barone Pg. 10 • Polling Problems at St. John’s

by Sebastian Abella Pg. 11 • An Open Letter to the Polity

by Barbara McClay Pg. 11 • Mild-Mannered: The Platypus

by Honore Hodgson Pg. 12 • A Primer for Sophomore Music

by Peter Kalkavage

Staff

Jonathan Barone Tommy Berry Melissa Gerace Robert Malka Sarah Meggison Charles Zug

Contributors

Annemarie Catania John Fleming Peter Kalkavage • Tutor Barbara McClay Sasha Welm

!"##"$%&$'(% #)"%*+,#'$-

W

elcome to the 2012 Croquet Issue of The Gadfly! Much hard work went into the newspaper you hold in your hand, and the twenty-three issues preceding it.

Over the course of this year, The Gadfly has grown and flourished, thanks to the support of the St. John’s College community.

We would like to thank our layout editors, Hayden Pendergrass (A’14) and Amy Stewart (A’13), for the countless hours they have spent ensuring that every issue looks its best; our assistant editors, Nathan Goldman (A’14) and Ian Tuttle (A’14), for their help copy-editing and forcing freshmen (A’15) to work on The Gadfly; and our staff, composed primarily of freshmen who do not know any better. Sasha Welm (A’14) contributed all of the hand-drawn illustrations featured in this issue, and Henley Moore (A’13) photographed our beautiful croquet team.

In these pages, you will find an assortment of articles about croquet, including a piece from our current Imperial Wicket, a reprinting of the rules of croquet, one of our staff writer’s takes on the whimsical sport, an exploration of the myths

surrounding the origins of the Annapolis Cup, and interviews with both teams. In case you become bored with reading about croquet (although that hardly seems possible), we have also included a smattering of pieces about life at the College, ranging from a critique of our mascot, the platypus, to a tribute to Leo Pickens, former Athletic Director and current Director of Alumni Relations.

Finally, we would like to introduce a few dramatic changes to next year’s Gadfly and Croquet rosters. We hereby pass the torch to Nathan Goldman and Ian Tuttle, who will assume the illustrious title of co-Editors-in-Chief of The Gadfly: greatest newsmagazine in the world. A special congratulations is due to our good friend and unsurpassable Spartan athlete, Drew Menzer, who will lead our croquet team to victory in the 2013 Annapolis Cup as Imperial Wicket.

We hope you enjoy the croquet match and the accompanying festivities.

Over the course of this year, The Gadfly has grown and flourished, thanks to the support of the St. John’s College community.

Sincerely, Daniel Kraft and Grace Tyson, EICs !

the gadfly

!"

!"#$%&'(')*+,"-./0%

')"'1%"2.3%,")4"5*)6.%'

by Annemarie Catania, A’97 Two types of shots result in continuation. One is running a wicket (or scoring a wicket, as the USCA calls pushing one’s ball through the metal structure). This results in one more shot. Although going through the wicket is always the goal in mind, hitting a ball with one’s own ball may be more immediately beneficial, since this type of shot results in two continuation shots.

Our friends from town may ask you about these two shots. As an articulate liberal arts student, you will provide them with the terminology for these turns, which even the players do not bother to remember. The proper name for hitting another ball is “roquet.” (You may say, “She has roqueted the ball.”) Upon hitting another ball, the striking ball becomes cloaked, which means whatever happens to it before it stops rolling is incidental and does not count. Impress your friends by telling them that it does not exist. The official USCA term for this is a ball in hand. The player places the ball in hand next to the roqueted ball and shoots. This is called the croquet shot. The second shot is called continuation.

Continuation is not cumulative. This means that a ball that runs a wicket on a croquet shot does not receive that continuation in addition to the continuation gained by completion of the wicket shot.

Scoring a wicket erases whatever effects the

[Editors’ Note: This article is reprinted with minor edits from the 1998 Croquet Issue of The Gadfly.]

A

s you sit in the sun, eating, drinking, and possibly burning, you may discuss the game of croquet. In the midst of this community picnic, your attention may turn to the game. Just in case this happens, you may be interested in the rules of croquet.

Today’s game is traditional American ninewicket croquet, essentially following the rules of the United States Croquet Association. Each of the five matches consists of two Johnnies versus two Middies. One team plays with the red and yellow balls, and the other uses black and blue.

The order of play follows the colors painted on the stakes.

The point of the game is to hit both balls of one team through all the wickets, hitting one stake in the middle of the game, and the other stake at the end. The pattern zig-zags through the center wickets and the wickets to the right of the direction of play.

As you watch, you may notice that some players have very short turns. We hope that these turns happen more often for the Midshipmen, since we hope to allow them no other option than to set up for their wickets. A long turn is more advantageous. You may hear someone asking, “How long has this Johnnie been playing this turn?” This question indicates that the St. John’s player has been using every opportunity for continuation quite successfully, and probably also means that the Johnnie player has run many wickets.

Our friends from town may ask you about these two shots.

As an articulate liberal arts student, you will provide them with the terminology for these turns, which even the players do not bother to remember.

Lest the rules become too complicated for your relaxing brain, take a sip of your drink of choice, sit back, and observe the deadness board.

13

15 14

11

10 9

12

8 Start & Finish

1

4

2

3

player may have incurred by hitting balls prior to going through it. Although hitting a ball has the advantage of two continuation shots from that ball, it also means going dead on that ball. This means the ball struck cannot be hit again before the striking ball goes through another wicket.

Lest the rules become too complicated for your relaxing brain, take a sip of your drink of choice, sit back, and observe the deadness board. This scoreboard of sorts keeps track of which balls have already been hit. Each ball has its own row with three spaces that indicate which ball it is dead on.

At the beginning of the game, every ball is dead on every other ball for the first shot. Any contact between balls on this turn is incidental. After this shot, every ball becomes live on every other ball.

Through the course of a game, going through a wicket restores liveness. The deadness board assists the memories of those enjoying too much of their drinks of choice.

This much knowledge will suffice for following most of the game. The basic strategy is to advance one’s own ball and one’s partner’s ball through as many wickets as possible while deterring the other team’s balls as much as possible. You may hear the players politely referring to messing with the other team by taking them off their sets, using stop shots to shoot them away from their wickets, and taking advantage of them with split shots.

The most cruelty you will see in this most civilized of croquet matches will be in blocking, or in staking out the rover. The first of these is a simple defensive move. If a player’s opponent is dead on her ball, and the opponent is set up for his wicket, she may shoot her ball into a place directly between his ball and the wicket. This will obstruct his shot unless he is able to execute a jump shot over her ball.

Staking out the rover is the most detrimental type of play, and occurs in the end game. When a ball has completed all the wickets and has not yet hit the final stake, it is called a rover. An opponent has the opportunity to hit that ball into the stake on a croquet shot. The staked-out ball must sit out for two turns, and hit the stake at the other end of the field before coming back into play. A rover still in play may go through wickets in any direction to gain continuation as long as it is dead on two balls (or two-ball dead). After going through a wicket, the rover remains temporarily dead on the ball it last hit before going through the wicket until it hits another ball.

Have a fine time sunning yourself, eating, and drinking. Wander off to chat with friends and strangers. If you find yourself with further questions on more complicated strategy or minor rules, ask someone who often plays croquet to expound on the game’s intricacies. !

6 7

5

< illustration by Hayden Pendergrass

the gadfly

!"

A Concise History of Croquet An Anachronistic Account of Croquet through the Program The Ancients

by Hayden Pendergrass

!!"#$%& Greek ships land on the shores of Troy.

A ten-year croquet match ensues. '""$%& Socrates explores croquet’s virtues.

He calls it a sophist’s game. ()$*+ Jesus plays croquet for 40 days and 40 nights against Satan. He wins.

The Middle Ages

'")$*+ Augustine of Hippo disparages the Manicheans for playing too much croquet. !(,#$*+ Thomas Aquinas’ rotundity makes it impossible for him to play croquet. He writes the Summa instead.

The Rennaissance & Reformation

!.'/$*+ Jean Calvin outlines in the Institutes that all those predestined for salvation have to learn croquet.

The Enlightenment

!')-$*+ Geoffrey Chaucer travels to Canterbury to the shrine of Thomas à Becket with a 29-person croquet team.

!,'"$*+ When philosophical speculation becomes too depressing, David Hume comforts himself by playing croquet with friends.

!.)-$*+ Suffering from a kidney stone, Michel de Montaigne painfully swears that it must be the size of a croquet ball.

The Moderns

!,),$*+ Immanuel Kant in his Critique of Pure Croquet states that the croquet ball travels “independently of all experience.” No one understands what that means. !)""$*+ After years of psychological study, Sigmund Freud determines “sometimes a croquet mallet is just a croquet mallet.”

!"#$%&'"()(*&$(+$ '"#$,--./()01$23/

by Ian Tuttle, Assistant Editor, A’14

I

t all started at a Navy baseball game. No, some Johnnies and Middies were at dinner. No, a Johnnie and a Middie were walking down the street. No, several Johnnies and several Middies were walking down the street. There was a dare. There was a challenge. There was a bet.

There was a bar fight.

There are as many myths about the origins of the annual St. John’s-Navy croquet match as there are linen-dressed drunkards to tell them.

Since the first match thirty years ago this spring, the match has spawned a host of apocryphal stories about the inception of the tradition, told and wrongly retold, again and again, nothing written down, the whole thing a bit like water cooler gossip or campfire folktales or tribal storytelling. I had heard several versions of the story, from students and alumni alike, before I finally consulted an authority: an alumnus who knew someone who knew the person who made the bet, or who played weekly bunko with the Navy Commandant after-hours and was in his quarters the night of the double-dog-dare, or whose just-out-of-the-clink cousin helped procure the pistols for the first duel, or whose hardof-hearing aunt swears to this day she heard a young man in a natty outfit and a guitar-hoisting long-hair talking about croquet— or was it cricket?—or was it Davy Crockett? Or perhaps, in the end, he had no connection to the whole affair whatsoever but spoke in a very authoritative voice.

That’s how croquet works in this town: no one really knows why it started, and we prefer it that way. We like the mystery, the legend, the story.

There is little question how the croquet myths started: the true story, in its telling and retelling, was perverted until it became a half-truth, and undoubtedly there were a few enterprising jesters who made up entirely new stories themselves, which eventually seeped into the accepted store of myth.

But what is curious is not how the myths started.

What is curious is that we keep them around.

Winston Churchill once said, “If King Arthur did not live, he should have.” A certain national pride persists in the account of Britain’s once and future king, the noblest man to ever maybe, perhaps, possibly tread the British Isles. For Churchill, as for so many who have invoked the beloved British legend throughout the ages, it is of little consequence whether Arthur lived or not. The key is in his effect upon the imagination—what he tells us about who Brits are and who Brits should be.

All myth is like that, it might be supposed, from Balder to Achilles, purporting to tell of the past while actually holding up the looking glass—all things change, all things remain the same, that old

cliché (which, like all clichés, is annoyingly accurate). So perhaps all the stories are true. Perhaps Odysseus actually blinded Polyphemus, Dido actually threw herself on the pyre, and Europa actually turned into a cow. Perhaps. But it really does not matter. The stories, true or not, tell us about the times, the places, the people—and, somehow, about ourselves. About our inventiveness in times of danger, the furor of our passions, our affinity for dairy or large beasts of burden.

Mythology captures the spirit of the event and its participants. And in the case of croquet, the myths, though they do not hearken to distant epochs and lands, tell us something about the Academy and St. John’s circa 1983. About the sharply dressed sailor boys who could not pass up a challenge from “the other Annapolis college.” About the bookish liberal artists who could with straight faces consider croquet an “athletic” activity. About the humor, the rivalry, the camaraderie. Perhaps, a hundred years from now, the competition will have turned into a sweaty, scowling grudge match, the whole thing in a cage with John Cena commentating, a far cry from what they will then consider the immaculate early days when it was a complete gentleman’s affair, the way we think of Bobby Jones-era golf at Augusta, all sweater vests and doffed caps and, “Oh, ho, good shot, m’boy!” In some sense that would still be true.

Or perhaps they will have forgone the competition altogether to head directly to the drinks and this whole thing will be considered perfectly barbaric, all machismo and showmanship and theatrical flair. Fine.

That’s true, too.

Whether there was a bet or a dare or a conspiracy or a brawl, each hints at what actually happened, who those first players and spectators were, what they were playing at, why they did it. And when we shroud them in myth, we keep that animating spirit alive. The match, its traditions, its customs—all of that is allowed to live and grow in our imaginations, and that is precisely where the magic happens. Perhaps there was no spat-intheir-hands-and-shook bet. Perhaps there was no bar fight.

Well, perhaps there should have been.

The stories of the origin of Croquet are our version of the Babe calling his shot. Sure, there are some people who know what actually happened.

But those people will do the rest of us the courtesy of keeping mum on the matter and letting us persist in the belief that the true story does, in fact, involve a bear mauling, the witches from Macbeth, and four of the rings of Mordor. !

That’s how croquet works in this town: no one really knows why it started, and we prefer it that way.

the gadfly

!"

!"#$%&#'&()*#!+,# -./0#1())#2%3/

by Johnnie Fleming, Imperial Wicket, A’12

I

f you build it, they will come. That should be the St. John’s motto. The extracurricular activities are based around that idea. If you want to start a club or study group, send out an email, post some fliers, and give people a time and a place. If there’s anything to your idea, people will show up. It doesn’t even need to be that formal.

Get out a bat and some bases on a Friday afternoon, harass some people on the quad, and you’ll have a ball game in 30 minutes. (I can personally attest to the success of this strategy—shout-out to Peter White). If you want to change the lyrics of a patriotic song to a classmate’s name, sing it at some parties over the microphone, and the community will join you (you might have to deal with some punches along the way, but it will be worth it). Admitted students and freshmen often ask if such-and-such opportunity is available at St. John’s, and I was never sure how to answer them, except by saying something like, “it’s up to you,” until I remembered that phrase. If you build it, they will come. The Program itself seems to be based on that idea. The Admissions Office doesn’t really do a hard sell.

The college is here, and people will come.

But perhaps the power of the philosophy is best seen in Croquet Weekend. Much has been made by members of the college about the recent escalation in attendance. What did they expect? If

you build it, they will come. Imagine it as a ghostly whisper in your ear, or as the rich baritone of James Earl Jones, if you like. “People will come, St. John’s. They’ll come to Annapolis for reasons they can’t even fathom. They’ll turn up in your driveway, not knowing for sure why they’re doing it. They’ll arrive at your door, as innocent as children, longing for the past. Of course, we won’t mind if you look around, we’ll say…” I can see the final shot in my head, as the train of headlights runs back all the way to the Rowe Boulevard exit off 50, as people wait to pull in, throw down a blanket, pop the bubbly, and trash our campus.

Sure, Ray Kinsella is accommodating, bulldozing some corn fields and putting up bleachers for the public. He also doesn’t have to clean up after them. We’ve opened our campus to the public, and it certainly would be a bummer if the people who come were to ruin it for the people already here. The problem isn’t with the students—we have campus-wide outdoor parties regularly, and we do a pretty good job cleaning up after ourselves, not getting into fist fights, and respecting our college. But now, be-

cause people don’t just come, but have started leaving not so pleasant souvenirs, we’re having second thoughts about why we built it in the first place. I don’t want that. It ruins the entire motto. The administration shouldn’t want to shy away from that mentality, and discourage us from building. By us, I mean the students and the alumni, the people who attended the college. We built it. We are grateful to the Alumni Office and the administration for their help, but this is our event.

We have built it, and people just keep coming, and it is excellent.

So let’s keep it that way. The rest of that quote above, about why Ray shouldn’t sell his farm even though he is bankrupt, goes like this: “Of course, we won’t mind if you look around, we’ll say...it’s only 20 dollars per person. They’ll pass over the money without even thinking about it…for it’s money they have, and peace they like.” Why can’t people react to the new policies like that? Let’s enjoy this peace we like—give your extra food to mooching students (shout-out to Peter White), play Cornhole, soak up the sun. Allow us to share our motto with you this day. If you build it, they will come. !

We’ve opened our campus to the public, and it certainly would be a bummer if the people who come were to ruin it for the people already here.

24%5&/+#678)9(:/*

by Tommy Berry, Staff Writer, A’13

C

roquet season is upon us once again, and no doubt there are some freshman students and new-time visitors who will be watching the sport for the first time. With you novices in mind, this helpful guide to the basics of croquet should be all you need to follow what’s going on in every exciting match, and maybe even chime in with some peanut-gallery strategizing of your own.

Although they may seem complex at first, the rules of croquet can be summarized quite simply: Using a large wooden mallet, players attempt to navigate each ball through each of several hoops in succession, avoiding sand traps and water hazards, and dodging any incoming bludgers. Each hoop adds two points to a team’s score (four for girls) and players can continue their turn for as long as they continue to score at least one hoop, unless they “scratch” by scoring the white cue-ball. In general, a game lasts nine innings, unless it is tied at the end of regulation, in which case the first team to score in overtime wins, yielding a tremendous importance to the pre-overtime coin toss. If a player commits a penalty during the course of play, such as beating his opponent over the head with a mallet or taking a shot out of turn, he is sent to the “penalty tree” for a certain amount of time, while play continues without him. If a ball is hit out of bounds, possession goes to the team that did not touch it last, who have the option of either playing the ball from where it was hit or “taking a drop” (blindfolded spinning necessary) at the point where it crossed the boundary line. In any ambiguous cases, play simply goes in the direction of the possession arrow, which starts the game with the team that did not win the opening face-off. If a ball makes it through every hoop on the course, the player may “king” that ball by turning it upside down, at which point it is allowed to move in any direction, including vertically. If a kinged ball finds one of the two “rainbow-victory poles” that are scattered somewhere within the playing area, the game immediately ends and the kinged ball’s team

receives a bonus 150 points, insuring victory and negating the importance of every other rule.

In addition to these basics, croquet also has a few more technical rules, which nonetheless must be understood to fully appreciate the sport.

Of these, the most important is a concept which is unique to the sport of croquet: that a ball is actually rewarded with a bonus turn if it careens into another ball and makes its life more difficult. There is a downside for this interposing ball, however, which is that if it has taken advantage of the other ball one too many times, it may find itself on that ball’s “dead to me” list. From that point forward, if the balls should happen to run into each other yet again, they will both simply ignore each other and pretend it didn’t happen. Luckily, just like in life, any broken relationship with a ball can be instantly repaired by achieving some personal success, which in the case of balls generally involves going through a new hoop.

(As an aside, here’s a bit of croquet lingo: These hoops are generally called “wickets,” which can lead to confusion with the English sport of cricket, in which every noun, verb, and adjective is replaced with the word “wicket.” In case you are unsure in any future situation, the way to determine whether the sport you are watching is croquet or cricket is to wait until the game ends. You then know that you are watching croquet.)

Lastly, if you should ever have the urge to set up your own game, know that the layout of the wickets is somewhat within the discretion of the players and there is no one single standard, although a good rule of thumb is that the full path travelled by each ball, from start to end of game, should chart out a symbol that you could easily imagine Nicholas Cage slowly tracing out in horror before hurriedly rushing out to warn an oblivious and unconcerned public (e.g., a pentagram, triskelion, etc.).

With this in mind, you have everything you need to set up and play your own home games all summer long. With enough practice, who knows? Next year, it just might be you out there! !

There is a downside for this interposing ball, however, which is that if it has taken advantage of the other ball one too many times, it may find itself on that ball’s “dead to me” list.

[See Page 10 for more about polling at St. John’s.]

!"#"$%&'&($)*&+,-.

[Editors’ Note: To the right are ten questions we submitted to the U.S. Naval Academy for our annual Croquet Day interview. We received the following responses under the questionable title, “Questions from the St. John’s University Gadfly.” We trust that these responses were meant, indeed, for The Gadfly of St. John’s College. If not, we would like to offer a heartfelt apology to our friends in Queens. But, truth be told, serves them right.]

!"#$%&'()*+

1. For the excitement and the clean crisp air.

2. Knocking my mom out with a croquet ball when I was four years old.

3. The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway.

4. Flying helicopters for the Navy.

5. To beat the Johnnies.

6. Astronautical engineering.

7. I do not like poems That’s why I’m Engineering Go Navy Croquet 8. “Around the World” by RHCP. 9. “Cool Runnings.”

10. Game 7 Stanley Cup Finals: Colorado Avalanche are hopefully involved, glass seats, she buys the beer.

,()+-&$!*-./+)0"

Imperial Wicket

1. I could never hit a curve ball.

2. The fall of the Berlin Wall.

3. The Killer Angels by Michael Shaara.

4. Working to pay for the baby boomers.

5. The anticipation is terrible. I hope it lasts.

6. History.

7. Three things are certain: Death, taxes and lost data.

Guess which has occurred.

8. “When the Levee Breaks.”

9. “I told you so.”

10. Dinner and a movie.

102./$3-'4*)#5

1. Because it’s one of those few games that has a unique combination of wit, skill, and class.

2. Shooting squirrels with my friend’s BB gun in his backyard, haha.

3. The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri.

4. Flying planes, hopefully.

5. Traveling as much as I can, seeing as much as I can.

6. Aerospace engineering.

7. Mundane questionnaires Were only used on Myspace I just filled one out 8. “Lazy Lace” by Avicii.

9. “The Asian Sensation.”

10. Laser-tag, dinner, and a long walk—in any order.

%**"#$3)6("07 1. One does not simply “play” croquet.

2. Earning my badge and six-shooters.

3. Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain.

4. Hopefully still with some hair left.

5. Safer skies for everyone.

6. Mechanical engineering.

7. The Sheriff watches, the owl sleeps in the nighttime, Pythons always win.

8. “Danger Zone.”

9. “Because I was inverted...”

10. A quiet evening in Missourah.

8-99$:)0-#

1. The classiness of the sport keeps me interested.

2. Beating every level in Star Fox. 3. A Little History of the World by E.H. Gombrich.

4. Retired and golfing daily while raising wolves.

5. For the Chicago Cubs to never win the World Series.

6. Computer engineering.

7. Your Facebook page sucks Your dramatic life described In Times Roman font 8. “Carol of the Bells” by the Trans-Siberian Orchestra: epic guitars on a snowy morning.

9. “The best is yet to come.”

10. Dinner and movie at home with my girlfriend Hilary.

Interview Questions: 1. Why do you play croquet?

2. What is your favorite childhood memory?

3. What is your favorite book?

4. Where do you see yourself in ten years?

5. What is your greatest hope?

6. What is your major?

7. Write us a haiku!

8. What is your favorite pump-up song?

A sample lyric?

9. What would you like your epitaph to say?

10. What is your ideal date?

;)&&$<"0+-##

1. To honor the long-lasting tradition of Southern gentlemen, triumphing on the croquet court as a testament to athletic excellence and mental fortitude.

2. Croquet.

3. Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card.

4. Celebrating the tenth anniversary of you asking me this question.

5. A winning record for Navy in the Annapolis Cup. 6. Economics.

7. Wikipedia Wants seven syllables here And then five right here 8. “Heads Up (Glitch Mob remix)” by Bassnectar—“You know you love it.”

9. “Steeze.”

!02-#$<)**)6-=

1. To meet interesting people.

2. Little League Baseball.

3. The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck.

4. Hitchhiking.

5. Own a Lamborghini.

6. Economics.

7. Let’s play some croquet It is really really fun I hope that we win 8. “The Final Countdown.”

9. “#1.”

10. Movies.

>-?27$@)(#&"#

1. For the glory of the game, duh.

2. The summers when I didn’t have something due the first day back to school.

3. 1984 by George Orwell.

4. I hope to be flying a helicopter in some faraway land.

5. To change the world for the better.

6. Political science (international relations.)

7. Red ball, yellow ball, Mallet and wickets nine, Twas fun but now… dry.

8. “Fuel” by Metallica—“Give me fuel, give me fire, [unintelligible].”

9. “He lived, he loved, he flew—and played croquet sometimes.”

10. My date and I would pick a random restaurant, order, and then switch plates to experience something we wouldn’t normally have tried. After dinner, we would hit an arcade or play laser tag (and win, hopefully). Then, on the way home, do something fun and unscripted, like catch a midnight dollar movie or make a frosty-and-fries dessert run. The name of the game would be spontaneous and fun!

3)*9)#$A-6-+40-

1. When I was a child, a Johnnie came up to me and took my lunch money. I want revenge.* 2. I once shook up a 2-liter soda and threw it on the ground. It shot up like a rocket, into a parked car. Yeah, that was funny.

3. MIDREGS. 4. As LTJG Kawamura, USN (retired.)

5. Chipotle will stop charging for double meat.

6. Don’t care anymore; it’s second semester senior year.

7. A Hypotenuse Is on the opposite side Of the right angle 8. “Trololo”—“Trolololo la, la-la-la, la-la-la.”

9. “Well, that was fun.”

10. A bike ride, maybe some sushi afterwards. *[Editors’ Note: The culprit was Linus Feder.]

!"#$%&'('&)*(+,-+ !"#$%&'()*+"

1. I play croquet because it is fun to play.

2. Fishing.

3. Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson.

4. A naval aviator.

5. To become rich.

6. Economics.

8. “I’m Pretty Good at Drinkin’ Beer.”

9. My name.

10. A fishing date.

,)"#--.&'()*+/

1. Good workout.

2. Watching croquet.

3. The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexander Dumas.

4. Submarine officer in the Navy.

5. Beating St. John’s in croquet.

6. Electrical engineering.

8. “All of the Lights” by Kanye West.

10. A good game of croquet.

0)".%-.&12/

1. I play croquet because it is the right thing to do.

2. When Navy beat St. John’s.

3. The croquet handbook.

4. A middle-aged, washed-up pilot who needs to tell himself he’s good at something, so he plays croquet.

5. My greatest hope is to not hurt the Johnnies’ feelings too bad when we crush them this year.

6. My major—pain.

7. Yes I play croquet It makes me truly classy croquet croquet WIN 8. “Eye of the Tiger.”

9. “Husband, Father, Croquet Jedi.”

10. My ideal date is drinking Red Stripe while playing croquet. Hooray, beer!

3.%)-4&1(5$

1. Because I bought a mallet and don’t want to feel as if I wasted my money.

2. Playing in the yard with my brothers and neighbor.

3. The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexander Dumas.

4. Driving Navy ships and launching Tomahawk missiles.

5. Punch Justin Bieber in the face, then rap about it in a song featuring Eminem.

6. Economics.

8. “Go to Church” by Ice Cube—“If you a scared...”

9. “To be completely honest, I went straight to hell.”

10. Doing anything with my one true love.

6(7-8&38&9*-:+-.;2.

1. I am upholding a long and storied family tradition.

2. The one time I got sugary cereal.

3. East of Eden by John Steinbeck.

4. Playing a banjo in a boxcar on the 5:15 to Tuttle, OK. 5. To spend a semester abroad at St. John’s College.

6. English.

7. Patrick Swayze rules I enjoy Easter Candy The wind blows softly 8. “Puppets” by Atmosphere—“I know a guy with a rockstar life, but he still can’t fly, so he’s mad at the sky.”

9. “Oh Captain, My Captain.”

10. An African safari.

,-/*2.&<"==-.-) 1. Crowd noise.

2. Running through the hallways naked.

3. Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brown.

4. Sailing the salty seas.

5. Allen Cowherd winning Mr. Universe.

6. Economics.

7. oh croquet is here we all love to laugh and jeer must be Navy’s year 8. “The Goat is Old and Gnarly.”

9. “Old King Clancy.”

10. Just myself and King Hall hamsters.

>2;-:+&<"?*-)

1. Because I want to be popular. Being on the Navy croquet team makes you popular.

2. I actually don’t have any memories before my eighteenth birthday.

3. The House of the Spirits by Isabel Allende.

4. Probably still living in Annapolis, having never moved on after graduating from college.

5. To one day snatch 150 kilos.

6. International relations.

7. Never compromise.

Originality lends Serendipity.

8. “Southern Gangster” by Ludacris—“I got a letter from the government the other day/I opened it, read it/it said we was hustlas.”

9. Something profound and vague.

10. Any situation where I want to walk out on my date because I’m appalled at how obnoxious and sarcastic she is.

@"A+&<-;*?"7-

1. The thrill of it.

2. Getting 120 stars in Mario 64.

3. I May Be Wrong But I Doubt It by Charles Barkley.

4. Stay-at-home dad.

5. Stay-at-home dad.

6. Computer Science and Information Technology.

7. songbird clanks blindly sadly, apparitions leap lazy muscled star sinks 8. “Antidote” by Swedish House Mafia and Knife Party— “there’s no antidote.”

9. “</life>.”

10. Dinner and a show with my fiancé.

B-./2.&<$??$"C;

1. I play croquet because of the sweaters.

2. My favorite childhood memory is doing hoodrat things with my friends.

3. Anthem by Ayn Rand.

4. In ten years I see myself either as an LCDR, as an aviator in the Navy, or as a young businessman working for a major energy company producing alternative and more efficient energy sources.

5. My greatest hope is to be able to support a family without worry.

6. Physics.

7. Black, Croquet, Navy.

What do these have in common?

Me, I am all three.

8. My favorite pump-up song is “Put On” by Young Jeezy. His lyric, “I put on for my city,” makes me think this isn’t about me. It’s for my team, my family, my friends, or whoever I am representing at the time. It gives me motivation to try my hardest and to do my best.

9. “Kenyon Williams May 5, 1992 – Good Friday 2025 Easter 2025 – ” 10. Something out of a Tucker Max book.

>2+../&@$CC-)

1. Girls and fame.

2. I have a poor memory. Like a goldfish.

3. The Hungry, Hungry Caterpillar?

4. A professor of philosophy at St. John’s, Annapolis.

5. I haven’t dared to hope in years.

7. I’ve forgotten the format. 5-7-5?

8. “Why Where What” by King Fantastic.

10. I don’t date.

!"#"$%&'()*(#+,"# >2."*+".&F"))-??

D#".&E)"$= 1/".&6?(/

Drew Menzer (A’13) Why do you play croquet?

Do you have any idea how much physics and geometry are involved here? Croquet helps my math skills.

What is your favorite childhood memory?

Probably that one time I independently invented calculus. I was six.

John Fleming, Imperial Wicket (A’12) Why do you play croquet?

Better than writing for The Gadfly.

What is your favorite childhood memory?

First blackout—sort of an antimemory.

What are your favorite TV shows?

Anything on the Compound Channel. Dhidhat’s Kitchen, Barrett’s Gym, Linus’ Library, Peter’s Bar, you name it, I watch it. Also the OC.

What was your most recent annual essay about? What did you learn from it?

The dialectic. I learned that your committee will not read your essay with an open mind.

What was your most recent annual essay about?

“On the Role of Money in Middlemarch.” Moral of the story: It’s all about the Benjamins.

Where do you see yourself in 10 years?

I’ll either be happily retired or on the run from the government. Either way I’ll be in the Caribbean. I hope that in ten years I’m retired, not on the run.

What would you have majored in at another school?

Major in sociology, minor in music and minesweeper.

Write us a haiku!

The sea may barrage The Johnnie castle today but it shan’t break it

Noah Litvin (A’12)

Where do you see yourself in 10 years?

Celebrating the tenth anniversary of you asking me this question. Still bitter about my essay.

Why do you play croquet?

For the babes.

What was your most recent annual essay about?

How creativity is possible in mathematics through Wittgenstein’s Remarks on the Foundations of Mathematics.

What is your favorite coozie?

Definitely the St. John’s Croquet coozie. It’s only one dollar! Plus it keeps your beer cold, but your hand warm!

What would you have majored in at another school?

Turntablism.

Eric Shlifer (A’13) Why do you play croquet?

Why would I not play croquet? Cold beer, sunshine, friends, and the chance to vent my rage by hitting balls with a mallet.

Jonathan Tincher (A’12) Why do you play croquet?

So that I can occasionally wear an all-white jumpsuit.

What would you have majored in at another school?

Physics.

What is your favorite childhood memory?

There was a clown at my third birthday party. That was also my first memory.

Write us a haiku!

That question is racist.

What was your most recent annual essay about?

I wrote about laughter as a tool for self-knowledge. It is a remarkably humorless essay.

What is your favorite pumpup song? A sample lyric?

“6 Foot 7 Foot”—“real g’s move in silence like lasagna.”

Describe your ideal date.

Trying on clothes in a mall during the zombie apocalypse.

What is your favorite childhood memory?

Not worrying about money, food, shelter or anything else. It was a good life that ended too soon.

What was your most recent annual essay about?

What did you learn from it?

Marriage in Pride and Prejudice. I learned that when people asked me what I was writing on I should have told them Conan the Bar-

What is your favorite pump-up song? A sample lyric?

“Rack City” by Tyga— “Rack City, b****. Rack Rack City, b****.”

What is your favorite beer?

Raging Bitch.

Write us a haiku!

Bacon is tasty Seven syllable truism I enjoy lawn games Are you killing it?

Yes.

barian instead of Pride and Prejudice.

Where do you see yourself in 10 years?

With a family in the suburbs and partner at a law firm. I will also be teaching my children croquet so they beat Navy when they attend St. John’s.

What is your greatest hope?

Hope implies that I would not have power over a situation. This will not be the case. I will be right by Drew Menzer’s side, while he conquers Europe, until he stabs me in the back. I will have deserved it.

Sam Frank (A’12) Why do you play croquet?

The ladies, duh.

What is your favorite childhood memory?

Getting my stepfather’s Babe Ruth autographed

baseball back from James Earl Jones’ yard.

What was your most recent annual essay about?

Schopenhauer’s The World as Will and Repre-

sentation. Free will is a story people tell themselves to help them sleep at night.

What is your greatest hope?

Hope Solo.

What would you have majored in at another school?

Women’s studies (heavy focus on practicum).

Write us a haiku!

No.

Luke Wakeen (A’12) Why do you play croquet?

For the babes.

What is your favorite childhood memory?

I think it was when party Luke took his first steps.

What was your most recent annual essay about?

I'm still working on it.

Where do you see yourself in 10 years?

Some beach, somewhere.

What would you have majored in at another school?

Massage therapy.

What is your favorite pump-up song? A sample lyric?

Obviously the party philosophers’ anthem. Best part: “the search for truth costs 50 grand.”

What would you like written on your epitaph?

Maybe “Philosopher King,” or “Not here for a long time, here for a good time,” or “#1 Papa” or “Gotcha!” or “See you in hell.”

Daniel Popov (A’13) Why do you play croquet?

It has all the things I like about golf (the strategy and the opportunity to socialize) without all the walking.

What was your most recent annual essay about?

What did you learn from it?

The role of appearances for a hero in Cervantes’ Don Quixote. I really wanted to figure out how one becomes a hero (so that I could finally become one), but I’m still not quite sure. Ultimately I just understood that Don Quixote didn’t quite get it right.

When I do it, I’ll fight ‘real’ giants.

Where do you see yourself in 10 years?

A performing magician.

What is your greatest hope?

Immortality and power of flight.

What would you have majored in at another school?

Double major in history of math and science and philosophy with a triple minor in music, theology, and comparative literature.

What is your favorite pump-up song? A sample lyric?

The Rocky theme song—“Bum bata bum bata bum bata bum bada daaaaa da daaaa!”

Jon Barone (A’13) Why do you play croquet?

Last year, I felt out of place as a spectator, since I found myself caring far more about the games than the festivities. Naturally, I took the only logical course of action.

What is your favorite childhood memory?

So long as we exchange “favorite” for “memorable”...let’s just say it may have had to do with my older brother (who else?), and my dad’s 25-year-old Daisy lever action BB gun.

What was your most recent annual essay about? What did you learn from it?

I know it sounds odd for a junior essay, but here’s my title: “The Duty of Shrubs: An Investigation into Theophrastus in Accordance with the Categorical Imperative.”

As for what I learned from it, well, you already know.

Philip Schiffrin (A’13) Why do you play croquet?

I play croquet because I like to get involved in athletic activity, and this sport appeals to the physical nature that I enjoy in athletics.

What is your favorite childhood memory?

I remember the time that I scored all the goals. All of them.

What was your most recent annual essay about? What did you learn from it?

My essay was on the Declaration of Independence. I learned what I already knew: America is the greatest country

What would you have majored in at another school?

I went to a real college before coming here. My major was goofing off.

How old were you when you lost your first tooth?

I was six; it was a very big day.

Why do you play croquet?

I’m just a social animal and really love being connected with people.

Croquet is one of the best ways to do that.

Linus Feder (A’12)

What was your most recent annual essay about? What did you learn from it?

Thought in Action.

What is your greatest hope?

My greatest hope is that one day my face will be on all the croquet mallets.

Where do you see yourself in 10 years?

In great places.

What is your greatest hope?

All my hopes are pretty great, so it’s difficult to just choose one. But if I had to choose, it would definitely be that one day, I would be a maestro on the bagpipes.

What is your favorite childhood memory?

One year my family accidentally left me alone when they flew to France for Christmas. Two men tried to rob the house, but I chased them away with a variety of painful contrivances.

Where do you see yourself in 10 years?

In ten years I see myself sitting in a big chair behind a big desk with a big secretary.

Hunter Cox (A’13)

Where do you see yourself in 10 years?

I haven’t told anyone this, but I have major aspirations to be “that alum.” You know, the alum that sticks around Annapolis on the pretense of paying off his college loans, while in actuality he really just can’t leave the St. John’s intramural program.

Why do you play croquet?

Exercise.

on earth.

What is your greatest hope?

I hope to make enough money with my blues band to save the Catholic orphanage I grew up in.

What would you have majored in at another school?

I would not have gone to school.

I would have dropped out, donated all my money to charity, driven to Alaska, and camped out in the wilderness.

What is your favorite pump-up song?

“The Trash Song” by Peter White.

What is your favorite childhood memory?

It’s too long to write about, but I’d love to discuss it with you.

What was your most recent annual essay about?

The Son of the Father in Paradise Lost. It was about how the Son comes to his place as preeminent in heaven.

Mustache, sideburns, goatee, or full beard?

Full beard for sure, but no neck.

the gadfly

!"

!"#$%&%'(&"$)"*+$"#(,-+./"'/"&0+"!&01+&(,"2(%+,&$%

C

by Jonathan Barone, Staff Writer, A’13 oach, moderator, mentor: these are just a few words to describe the retiring athletic director, Leo Pickens.

Since 1988 Mr. Pickens has been a staple of this college, and his impact on the St. John’s community can be called nothing short of monumental. He has facilitated the transformation of the athletic program, and, in turn, the lives of innumerable individuals. Mr. Pickens has been a steward of athletics at St. John’s, and his life is a testament to the service he has given to this College.

In fact, much of what we take for granted now was not present 23 years ago. We had a boathouse, but the rowing team was non-existent.

The women’s athletic program lacked participation; kunai as we know it today had not yet been born. With no shoe policy and a lone treadmill in the vestibule, Temple Iglehart was a dark, quiet, solitary place.

Mr. Pickens changed that.

Brought in to help begin a crew team and restart women’s athletics, Mr. Pickens stepped into the huge shoes of the legendary Bryce Jacobson and began to rebuild, one brick at a time.

The renovation of the cardio room, the ergs, and nearly the entire weight room were all carried out by L. P. Of course, Mr. Pickens is loath to claim the credit for what he’s done. He always emphasizes the students’ involvement. “The only thing I can claim to have done,” he says, “is collaborate with the students and empower the students to build their program.” Ever humble, Mr. Pickens has used his position to serve the students for the past two decades. Through wind and rain, snow and storm, he has been a constant presence, promoting the ethic of sportsmanship and the idea of “athletics for everyone.”

This service has not gone unnoticed. Rachel Ulrich (A’11), remembers a crew practice after a blinding snowstorm: “Though there was three feet of snow, we still walked down to the gym,” she said. “There was Mr. Pickens in his puffy black snow suit, snow boots, and a black beanie hat. How he made it to campus through two miles of snow is still a mystery to me.” It shows Mr. Pickens’ dedication to his commitments, a dedication reflected in how he has viewed his role as athletic director. He understands that he is a role model for drive and participation.

“As a tutor is in the classroom, so should the athletic director be to the athletic program,” he remarks. “I think the athletic director should be modeling what it’s like to be a competitive athlete.”

We can all say that Mr. Pickens carries this competitive spirit with a calm serenity. Though

he may seem lackadaisical at times, his commitment shows that he truly cares about what he does. Moreover, his relaxed demeanor only further augments his ability to referee and govern the athletic program.

This promotion of sportsmanship is something underappreciated; in the days of Bryce Jacobson, virtually any physical contact was a foul. With Mr. Pickens has come more freedom with physicality, which sometimes leads to flaring tempers. Yet as tutor Joseph MacFarland remarks, L. P. is quick to “correct any misunderstanding, and [in doing so] indirectly restores to [him] at least a part of [his] reason.” While never letting the situation get out of hand, Mr. Pickens has allowed the students to express themselves more freely. The importance of Mr. Pickens’ presence was never clearer to me than one week last year when he was at a conference: the basketball games became much more physical. I realized at that moment that Mr. Pickens’ role was much more than simply legislative; his very presence brought out a fuller, more enriching athletic experience.

Yet even though Mr. Pickens’ placid nature and pregame witticisms present a character we all know and appreciate, there is something greater in him that we truly cherish. Mr. Pickens, in his own way, typifies the attitude toward the St. John’s athletic community: an attitude of “athletics for everyone.” A self-proclaimed Chanticleer, Mr. Pickens always clamors for more and more participation. But even more than that, Mr. Pickens rallies the students to make the same cries and to “own” their program. Whether it’s encouraging student coaches to start athletic clubs or working with intramural captains, Mr. Pickens has placed the power in the hands of the students to express their inner athletes.

It is this spirit which makes St. John’s athletics so special. When everyone believes they have an inner athlete, athletics becomes more than just an activity of the body. It becomes an activity of the soul, and this spiritedness is the true value of the athletic program. Mr. Pickens recognizes this. “We don’t have, in the grand scheme of things, a lot of financial resources,” he says. “But what we lack in financial resources we make up for in the spiritedness of the students. The students bring that wealth.”

In the end, this athletic program is much like a community garden, and Mr. Pickens has been a faithful, committed steward. So thank you, Mr. Pickens, for helping us to grow. ! *[Editors’ Note: As of February 2012, Mr. Pickens took over as the Annapolis campus’s Director of Alumni Relations.]

We can all say that Mr. Pickens carries this competitive spirit with a calm serenity.

#$11(.3"#%$41+5/"'&"6&7"8$0.9/":$11+3+

by Sebastian Abella, Staff Writer, A’15

A

recent survey was distributed to the Polity over the past two weeks in an effort to better understand the typical St. John’s student and in no way was meant to serve as filler, like most every other poll in every other newspaper publication. While the questions and answer options were carefully chosen after weeks of meetings and countless hours of research, I was incredibly disappointed at the lack of seriousness among the student body that, in many ways, undermined the sanctity that is the opinionbased poll. The final result that you see in print had to be edited heavily, and any conclusions made based on this information are therefore highly questionable. I strongly advise against making any informed decision based on the results.

Take for example the Republic in the

“Favorite Platonic Dialogue” category, which received a vote of an infinity sign in an obvious attempt to sabotage the results. For the “Mascot” question, one clever Polity member crossed out Dinosaur, which was not even an original option, and replaced it with “Philosoraptor,” making it impossible to interpret which votes were for which option.

There were countless other additions to the answer options and crossed-out items, as if the savages who participated in the poll had no understanding of polling protocol. Please do take any following Gadfly polls with more reverence, so as to not render the data almost meaningless. A helpful tip would be to approach such future polls with the same sense of importance as telemarketing advertisements or personality tests found in popular magazines. !

*Despite the fact that his book only contains the Melian Dialogue, some rogue Johnnies wanted it included in the poll anyway.

the gadfly

!!

!."CA+." *+&&+%"&$" &0+"#$1(&@ An experienced look at various opinions and claims about St. John’s College and the New Program

by Barbara McClay, SCI Secretary, A’12

I

n my capacity as a student here and as a member of the SCI, I have heard a number of views expressed about the project here at St. John’s which upset me. They even caused me to question the value of an institution that would not only give rise to, but foster, such opinions.

Amongst these views are: that the point of what we do here is not to learn, but rather to institute the habit of learning; that there is a kind of irrelevance to the subject matter of our classes; that the school ought to exempt students from the tiresome business of having class with people lessskilled; that the school ought to persuade students why they ought to care about their classes, instead of demanding that they do; and that perhaps the school ought to provide some sort of list explaining to students why they have class at all (which has been suggested in at least two SCI forums).

Do these opinions really constitute the story we want to tell ourselves about ourselves, as an institution? That we are a place where nothing need be learned? That we ought to be handed our questions? That we could have any Program, and this is simply the Program we happen to have— and that the value of that Program is measured, not by what it studies, but by the habits it bestows?

In fact, these opinions seem to run so counter to the actual acts that we perform as students that I find the way in which they have been embraced completely baffling.

But all of these ideas have come up in the SCI more than once and in everyday conversation much more than that. They are not strawmen that I selected out of a hat, but, rather, real sentiments that seem to me to be united by the idea that whatever we gain from our education, it is not in the subject matter itself.

So what are we being educated for? Any education has an end, even at St. John’s.

That end is not necessarily a quantifiable end. It’s not a test score or a job. But it’s

Stringfellow Barr (L) and Scott Buchanan (R) founded the New Program in 1937. photo courtesy of St. John’s College

still there. And if our end—as our motto states—is to make free men, then I begin to wonder if perhaps we have failed. By the account given above, we produce educable men. But we already are educable—that is why we can even have education in the first place.

The motto “making educable men by means of books and balance” puts us in a very cozy place, of course. And it is this coziness which disturbs me, more than anything else.

To come in educable, and to leave much the same, is a process which leaves the student fundamentally unchanged. To leave free, when you were not before, is a much more dangerous proposition, both for the student and the school. It suggests, among other things, that it is necessary to change your life.

This is all highly inflammatory, and I admit it. But I am trying to be inflammatory to a purpose. It is not my intention here to give a systematic account and counterargument to the views and ideas that I’ve enumerated, but rather to raise the question of whether or not these opinions are healthy ones for our school. Perhaps they are. I suspect they are not.

A final comment: most of the writers we read—for any class—are concerned with the truth of things, even if their truth turns out to be a negative truth (or that there is no truth at all). They asked how we ought to live, what it means to be, how the world is made. They asked these questions because they had a need to know the answer.

They found an answer and they gave it to us. The answers are not easy; neither are the questions.

To take all of this in and still suggest that the point of this whole education is learning how to learn avoids confronting, in a very tidy fashion, what every writer we read was trying to do. It is also cowardly.

And the coward, however wise he is in other respects, is not free.

We ought to be free. !

Do these opinions really constitute the story we want to tell ourselves about ourselves, as an institution? That we are a place where nothing need be learned? That we ought to be handed our questions?

To come in educable, and to leave much the same, is a process which leaves the student fundamentally unchanged. To leave free, when you were not before, is a much more dangerous proposition, both for the student and the school. It suggests, among other things, that it is necessary to change your life.

;(1<=;'..+%+<> ?0+"#1'&@AB/

by Honore Hodgson, Business Manager, A’12

R

ecently I began wondering, as Johnnies often do, about that most wondrous of mammals, I mean birds…I mean lizards? The platypus. Everyone knows that the platypus is our unofficial mascot, but why?

The mirdard (clever portmanteau of mammal/bird/lizard) doesn’t lend itself to snappy cheers or pleasing plurals (“Go Platypi”, “You can do it, Platypuses”). And sure, more manly names, like Spartans or tigers, are already taken. But still, we couldn’t do better than the platypus? Like most of you I’ve heard the joke about the platypus not knowing what it is and how that’s supposedly just like a Johnnie, and, sure, if you put a platypus and a typical Johnnie in any social situation you’d be hard pressed to tell which is more awkward. Still, I’m not sure the epithet quite fits….However, since the challenging of such a tradition would be tantamount to disagreeing with Aristotle about Nature abhorring a vacuum (it does, right?), I’m willing to suck it up and go with it. I don’t pretend to know what those august minds were thinking when they settled on the platypus as a mascot, but following is a list of five things that could make the platypus worthy of the honor done it by our school: 1. Its name comes from Greek: !"#$%!&%' (platupous), “flat-footed,” from !"#$%' (platus), “broad, wide, flat,” and !&%' (pous), “foot.” Our school loves Greek stuff!

2. You know how every time you explain what our school is to someone they give you a weird look? Well, just like St. John’s, when people first encountered the platypus, they thought it was an elaborate fraud, but who wouldn’t when confronted with a mirdard?

3. They locate their prey in part by detecting electric fields generated by muscular contractions. This is called electroreception and means that the creature can actually sense electric and magnetic fields. I’m sure this has something to do with junior lab, perhaps combining the platypus and the Faraday Cage would create a doomsday machine (but more likely one very confused platypus)?

4. While both the platypus and Johnnies appear relatively harmless, both male and female platypuses are born with ankle spurs, though only the male has spurs which produce a cocktail of venom powerful enough to kill smaller animals, such as dogs, and while the venom is not lethal to humans, it is so excruciating that the victim may be incapacitated. Similarly, every Johnnie, when backed into a corner, will make backhanded (and sometimes even witty) comments in class to dissuade predators. There have been no confirmed kills with such comments…yet.

5. Finally, both Johnnies and platypuses lay eggs. That’s right, we’ve finally discovered another mammal that lays eggs!

In conclusion, I think this mirdard is silly, but ultimately not the mascot we want. Rather, I think the Philoso-raptor is much better suited for our purposes. !

the gadfly

!"

!"#$%&'$"()$"*)+,)&)$'"-./%0

by Peter Kalkavage, Tutor

What is the purpose of freshman music?

To teach the freshmen music notation and the recognition of basic musical elements; to give them an extended opportunity to put this recognition into practice by singing; to develop an extensive repertory of pieces for sophomore music; to celebrate the communal spirit of the College and to initiate freshmen into the songs that have become a traditional part of the life of the College.

Why does this require an entire year?

Because it takes time to develop the habit of attentive, profitable singing. Also, it takes the whole year to learn notation adequately and to learn the pieces needed for the sophomore year.

ing of tonal harmony in the forces implicit in the major scale. Finally, the great musicians did not write great books about music, and books on music that are great in the sense of influential or foundational, are either too technical or fairly boring (witness Rameau’s Treatise of Harmony). Boring because they tend to ignore basic questions, especially the question to which Zuckerkandl unfailingly returns: What do we mean by movement in music?

Remember to step back, to keep reflecting on how our careful study of details and elements sheds light on basic questions like: What did that analysis reveal about the phenomenon in question (or even about music in general)?

What is the purpose of sophomore music?

The reflective study of the elements, principles, causes, and structures that are at work in musical phenomena; to study the behavior of tonal time-structures that move us deeply; to reflect on music in its relation to order, passion, beauty, and the human soul. Since most of our music is sacred, the tutorial prompts inquiry into the deep connection between music and many works in the sophomore seminar (the Bible, theologians, and Dante).

What is not the purpose of sophomore music?

Music appreciation, aesthetics, knowledge of music history, knowledge of musical genres, knowledge of various “philosophies of music,” technical expertise, becoming more sensitive.

Why is singing central to the tutorial?

Singing provides the continuity between freshman and sophomore music.

When we sing, we are the music. Singing, no matter how poorly done, is an aid to hearing and understanding. Also, the weekly practica preserve, on a smaller scale, the communal spirit of freshman music and reinforce the actual experience of the pieces studied in the tutorial. What experiments are to the laboratory program, the choral practica are to the music tutorial.

What are the great texts of sophomore music?

The musical works themselves. The tutorial is directed primarily to the understanding of great musical phenomena, for which the various texts we use (whether by Zuckerkandl or Zarlino) are servants and springboards.

We study music, not theories of music.

Why is the tutorial ordered the way it is?

Melody is our foundation (the human phenomenon of singing). Within this section, we study intervals and scales in their wondrously mathematical aspect. It makes sense to study rhythm and strictly temporal phenomena next. Texture and Structure, which follows, shows how repetition becomes the driving force in shaping a musical whole.

Our study of polyphony raises the question: What are the conditions for the possibility of more than one melody at a time? In Renaissance counterpoint, we have many voices at once but not yet the architectural forces of tonal harmony (chords and their movement). This we take up in the second semester, where we develop harmony as a higher level of counterpoint: counterpoint with dynamic qualities. We return to the “circle music” of the first semester in the context of harmonic cycles. Having studied the elements of harmony, we turn to large works: a movement of a Mozart piano sonata, Bach’s St. Matthew Passion, and a Mozart opera.

What is the role of the manual, Materials for Sophomore Music?

This manual organizes the year. It provides readings that supplement Sense of Music and most of our musical examples. The manual’s counterpoint-based account of harmony (written by former tutor Wendy Allanbrook) is very different from the chord-based account of Zuckerkandl. The two accounts, which may be taken as complementary rather than simply opposed, remind us that we do not have a text that definitively settles the difficult question: What is tonal harmony? The two accounts provide a natural ground for our own speculations in class and our continued wonder.

Singing provides the continuity between freshman and sophomore music. When we sing, we are the music.

Singing, no matter how poorly done, is an aid to hearing and understanding.

Why do we spend so much time on melody at the beginning of the year?

Because melody is the foundation of the whole year. If we went through this material, elementary though it is, more quickly, we would diminish our opportunity for reflection on elements. Years ago, the music tutorial began with rhythmic phenomena. This made for boring classes, in which the tutor had to do a lot of telling. Singing draws us out and calls attention to the movement of tones. It raises the question, in an accessible and immediate way: What makes a piece of music coherent?

Zuckerkandl’s Sense of Music is not a “Great Book.” Why, then, do we use it in the tutorial?

Prominent musicians and authors outside of St. John’s consider Zuckerkandl to be one of the few genuine philosophers of music—a source of musical wisdom not found elsewhere. To name a few: Oliver Sachs (Musicophilia), Edward Rothstein (Emblems of the Mind: the Inner Life of Music and Mathematics), the American twelve-tone composer George Rochberg (The Aesthetics of Survival), and the pianist Steve Lubin (who once lectured at the College).

Moreover, Zuckerkandl’s own primary influence, Heinrich Schenker, is the greatest musical theorist of the twentieth century. Apart from reputation, Zuckerkandl perfectly fits our quest for a reflective study of music that dares to ask and press very simple questions. There are many reasons for treating musical tones as dynamic qualities or forces. In addition to helping us hear melodic tones as manifesting directed motion, they give us a powerful ground-

1,%0,")("2,'/'"%/"3).$"(45)$%2'"($'/,&46"0,)$./"/)678

What is the single most important thing to do in sophomore music?

Remember to step back, to keep reflecting on how our careful study of details and elements sheds light on basic questions like: What did that analysis reveal about the phenomenon in question (or even about music in general)? Did it reveal something about why this phenomenon sounds the way it does, moves us the way it does? What is it about music that makes it so amenable to precise description and structural analysis? What is the purpose of an analysis anyway? Does it help us to be better, more active listeners? What does it mean to be moved by the perception of order? How is harmony different from Renaissance counterpoint? Why do we enjoy music that not only returns home (say, to the home key) but also postpones that homecoming, sometimes for a long stretch? Why does music exert such emotional, perhaps even dangerous power over us? How is it possible that we can be deeply moved by tones alone, that is, when there are no words? If in fact tonal harmony opens up a whole new world of human expressivity (the goal of Vincenzo Galilei and his fellow Florentine theorists), how does it do that? How does tonal harmony, which Zuckerkandl calls the “third dimension” of music, change or in some significant way affect our experience of time? Does it reveal something about time that perhaps physics tends to ignore? Does music reveal anything about the nature of the world? Does studying it in the way we do lead to greater self-knowledge? If so, how?

What is it that we might know about ourselves after a serious intellectual encounter with music?

How might our study of music help us understand what it means to be a musical human being, or a virtuous human being? !