The Mirror 09/26/14

9.26.2014

MIR ROR

The wonderful wizard of dartmouth | 2

What’s cooking?| 3

Guns, germs and steel| 4-5

Real world Resume| 8 ERIN O’NEIL // THE DARTMOUTH SENIOR STAFF

2// MIRROR

EDITOR’S NOTE

ERIN O’NEIL // THE DARTMOUTH SENIOR STAFF

story

Courtesy of Erin Landau

I don’t know about all of you, but these first few weeks have been some of the most jam-packed and stressful of my Dartmouth career. Navigating difficult classes, handling hours worth of auditions and finally, pouring over my resume and cover letter as though they represented the only possible ways for me to have a successful and fulfilling future, have taken pretty much over all of my time. I’ve received countless Snapchats of friends in 3FB in the wee hours, either cramming for quizzes after the multi-hour tedious rush process or researching consulting groups to add the perfect sentence to their already over-edited cover letters.

I’ve already had almost-all-nighters, and it’s only week two!

As I was talking to some friends about this insane phenomenon that is the beginning of fall term — and senior year for me (wow) — we came to the realization that it’s often easy to forget about what really matters. Many of our articles and columns this week touch on a similar theme: making time for cooking, recognizing that you will eventually find your niche no matter how long it takes and even taking ourselves a little less seriously.

In these hectic days, I often find myself neglecting friendships and going back on dinner dates. Then I realized that part of the reason we come to Dartmouth is to cultivate these relationships, and I need to make more time for them. I texted one of my oldest friends at Dartmouth last night — even though I had a mountain of homework and other commitments in front of me — to come drink champagne and just chat about nothing.

Sometimes it’s important to remember to take time for yourself and your relationships, because those moments are what will help you through the tough nights and make this whole college experience worth it.

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MIRROR R MIRROR EDITOR ERIN LANDAU

EDITOR-IN-CHIEF LINDSAY ELLIS PUBLISHER CARLA LARIN

EXECUTIVE EDITORS MICHAEL RIORDAN STEPHANIE McFEETERS

B y Mary liza hartong

Upon entering Dartmouth, students are bombarded with hordes of questions ranging from “What’s your major?” to “Where do you see yourself in five years?” to “How’d you get that wart?” For Joel Ash ’56 Th’58, the real question was “Do you believe in magic?”

I first heard about Ash through an email he sent to The Dartmouth, introducing himself as a member of the Wizards of the Upper River Valley as well as The Country Squires of New London. Needless to say, I was more than a little intrigued by his proposition of a story about his organization, seeing as it’s not every day I get contacted by a wizard. Ash also mentioned that he was the author of more than 550 limericks, so by that point, I was sold.

On a sunny Friday afternoon, I made my way to his home in Eastman, New Hampshire, not knowing what to expect. Was I about to walk into Hogwarts or Houdini’s lair? I was almost disappointed when Ash greeted me at the door not wearing a traditional wizard cloak. Instead Ash like a polished, kind older man — he could be anyone’s grandfather. His home was absolutely filled with Dartmouth memorabelia. He had handpainted Dartmouth plates, Dartmouth flags, and a miniature Dartmouth in the train landscape in his basement. But my disappointment disappeared as he ushered me into the “Magic Room,” his very own haven of tricks and illusions. The roam boasts ancient sets of cards, finger guillotines and, if you believe the myth, Harry Houdini’s wand. I say myth because Ash keeps the wand in a very fancy display case, but you’ll have to go to one of his shows to see the trick revealed.

“I started when I was 8 years old with a magic set, the typical story,” Ash said, recalling his first visit to the famous Tannen’s Magic Shop and the enormous effect it had on him. Ash described Tannen’s as a kind of wonderland for kids, and some of the tricks that he uses today were purchased the first time he visited the shop.

“Most magic now is sold on the Internet, not in brick and mortar shops like that.”

From there, he went on to perform magic in high school, and later at Dartmouth.

“I majored in magic at Dartmouth,” said Ash, who entered college at the age of 16. He’s quick to correct himself. “No,

’15: “Hanging out with you is like hanging out with a 5 year old with an immense libido.”

Blitz your overheards to mirror@thedartmouth.com!

I didn’t really. I wrote a lot of papers about magic. In the library at Baker there was a collection of magic books, and I used to read them. It was an important part of my getting into the world of magic.”

While at Dartmouth, Ash studied the books and performed for Hanover residents and for members of his fraternity.

However, he was unable to find a true magical community at the College.

“I found a fellow on the Hanover police who was interested in rope tricks, and he taught me this one,” said Ash. With one invisible swoop of his hand Ash knotted a small rope around his arm.

He performed the trick a few more times for me, but I could never tell quite how he did it.

After graduating from Dartmouth and the Thayer School of Engineering, Ash joined IBM, the International Brotherhood of Magicians.

“Then magic took a backseat — I spent a lot of time with family, career, other things, retirement — then I went back to magic in a big way,” said Ash. Before moving back to New Hampshire in 2002, Ash lived in Weston, Connecticut for 18 years, and Massapequa, New York for 18 years before that. He joked that he must have six years left in the state because he’s spent 12 years here so far. After returning to the Granite State, Ash was eager to revisit the books at Dartmouth that had taught him so much, as well as check out new magic volumes. He was disappointed to find the magic books inferior to the collection he had amassed over the years in his home. Yet Ash was not stymied by a lack of resources. He continued to purchase his own books and make many of his own tricks in the woodshop in home’s basement. The next step was to find fellow wizards.

“When I first came to New Hampshire I wanted to join a ring,” said Ash. “It’s a club within the [International Brotherhood of Magicians]. The name of their magazine is the Linking Ring. In the back of the magazine, it shows you new members and where they’re from.”

Ash spent months combing the magazine for New Hampshire members who might be interested in joining his club.

He found a few, but was unable to recruit enough to form an official ring under IBM standards. For this reason, he started the

’18 at the activities fair: “I signed up for the mindfulness club — it smelled like weed so I signed up.”

’17 rushing: “I’m gonna be honest, I wasn’t that impressed with KDE’s new house.”

Wizards of the Upper River Valley as an independent magic club. Four years have passed since any new members joined, so Ash hopes that there are magicians at Dartmouth who might be interested in participating. There are not any other magicians in his family, Ash hopes to find “someone to leave [his] magic collection, which is extensive.” When asked about what his wife’s response to his magic habits, Ash joked, “she puts up with it,” adding that she will watch and provide suggestions beforehand if he is preparing for a performance. Ash performed two 90-minute one man shows in 2009 and 2011, and said that he does not do magic for children, preferring an adult audience.

The seven-member club meets periodically in Ash’s Magic Room to present new tricks and discuss methods, which Ash said he loves because magicians understand the skills and techniques. Ash keeps a detailed log of each trick and its secrets, dating back to the club’s formation in 2008. I was a little disappointed that his log is a typed spreadsheet, rather than an old leather bound tomb filled with aging parchment and magical secrets. It does, however, include 500 to 600 tricks altogether, and is affectionately called the “Diary of a New Hampshire Wizard.”

“In the magic club we share all secrets,” said Ash. “We had a guy in the club who wouldn’t, and we threw him out.”

I asked him if he wouldn’t mind doing a few tricks for me.

“It’s not really set up, but maybe I could do a little ectoplasm,” said Ash, who proceeded to levitate a cloth and reveal the underlying ectoplasm, a term used by mediums to describe the viscous manifestation of a spirit.

Does this wizard have a favorite trick?

Well, sort of.

“My favorite trick changes from month to month,” said Ash. “It’s impossible for me to really come up with an answer to that. Someday it’s on my list to do my favorite magic tricks and have everybody in the club come in and do their favorite tricks.”

For Ash, magic is more than just a little hocus-pocus. It’s a way of life. And maybe it’s the life for you.

’18: “Oh, how do you pronounce it?... Phi Delt?”

’18: “I’m saving myself for matriculation.”

MIRROR //3

Trending

What’s Cooking? story

D @ RTMOUTH

B y caroline hansen

MAY NGUYEN // THE DARTMOUTH STAFF

Remember your freshman dorm kitchen? Most likely crusty, unused and stocked with the food of terrifying upperclassmen who would toss a blasé (most likely off campus, which, as a sophomore, I am still embarrassingly in awe of ) dish in the refrigerator for maybe weeks, but no one would have the nerve to walk to the side of their hall to say anything? Although I can’t necessarily complain coming from the McLaughlin cluster (for the ’18s — the dorm of Ill Fayze anthem fame), I too experienced this phenomenon of having a seemingly arbitrary and useless room in the middle of my floor. Once a floormate, a sweet football player from Tulsa, Oklahoma, decided to treat us to mac and cheese with the help of the kitchen. When we smelled burning noodles and peered in upon the soggy, fluorescent mess in front of us, we were greeted with a good natured “you’re supposed to use half-and-half in Easy Mac, right?”

After that, I limited my usage of the kitchen to hot water and heating up Collis leftovers.

Yet there are those who pride themselves on successfully using campus kitchens, not only for making Easy Mac, but also fabulous dishes that are unexpectedly and consistently delicious. Morgan Sandhu ’17 used her kitchen frequently last year when she lived in Bissell in the Choates cluster.

“It’s funny going from home where almost every meal was home-cooked to school where we have very little say in what’s being prepared on a daily basis,” Sandhu said.

Most of Sandhu’s cooking is reserved mainly for the creation of desserts, like her delicious oatmeal chocolate chip recipe. She bakes frequently for friends’ birthdays.

Sandhu noted that at school, cooking and baking tend to be a very social activity.

“I don’t think I’ve ever baked alone,” Sandhu joked.

Other campus chefs said that they often cook using campus facilities because of dietary constraints not met by the College’s dining options — namely severe food allergies.

Kate Huffer ’15 noted that when her dad was diagnosed with severe food allergies, her family’s home cooking increased. When she herself was diagnosed with barley, sunflower oil, fruit, potato and nut allergies in high school, Huffer brought her new recipes to Dartmouth and her kitchen in McLane hall. The McLane dorm kitchen remains her favorite kitchen that she’s cooked in at Dartmouth, due to its close proximity and nice facilities, she said.

“I’m hard to feed unless you cook everything from scratch,” Huffer said.

With Dartmouth Dining Services out of the question, Huffer quickly found floormate friends the first week of school who were interested in her signature cinnamon rolls.

Huffer said that to this day, although she will enjoy a light breakfast and lunch with the limited campus dining options available to her, she continually makes herself dinner — often in large batches in the beginning of the week that she will eat for the rest of the week, along with assorted baked goods. This week, she made soup for her dinner, with apple bread — which I ogled for almost the entire interview and got the lucky chance to try at the end. It was out of this world, made with seasonal apples and a touch of cinnamon. I devoured it in one bite.

Huffer’s cooking experiences,

however, have not come without mishaps. Once she tried to cook a triple-layer cake with only one pan, waiting for each individually iced layer to cool before making the next one.

“I ended up being [in the kitchen] for seven hours,” Huffer said.

Caroline O’Donnell ’14 Th’15 also said her gluten allergy restricts campus dining options and necessitates cooking, which was made possible last year when she moved into an off-campus house.

“I was sick of what DDS had to offer me, and I find that I can easily make more flavorful things,” she said.

She said that last year she used DDS as a “grocery store” to buy ingredients, and then supplemented those ingredients to make a better meal when home at night. These dinners include sandwiches, salads, chicken dishes, mixed vegetables and veggie and turkey burgers, among others. Her favorite meal to cook, a pizza with sweet potato, kale and pesto, is as inventive and delicious as it sounds, I took her word for it.

O’Donnell’s kitchen was particularly familiar to me because she lives in the same off-campus house as my sister, who was a ’13 — although if my memory serves correctly, I only witnessed Bailey’s kitchen as a storage space for many different flavors of ice cream and an odd variety of vegetables.

Others enjoy the health benefits gained from making their own meals.

By removing grains from his diet and replacing them with a strict regimen of proteins, veggies and legumes, Cody Bell ’15 said that he has lost about 30 pounds. Bell has breakfast (usually three eggs and a link of sausage) and dinner (typically meat of some kind and a mixed vegetables and legumes) every day at the apartment he has lived in since sophomore summer, with a quick lunch on campus. Bell also enjoys the

advantage of cooking rather than spending money on preordained campus meals. Even with the added costs of kitchen tools and groceries, Bell said he believes that cooking on the off-campus meal plan gives him increased freedom to decide what he wants to eat for a lower price than a full meal plan.

Not only cheap and healthy, cooking also helps Bell connect with friends by hosting dinner parties at his apartment. As a senior, Bell said that these parties enrich the already close connections that he has with friends and help him connect with them in a more intimate setting.

“Sometimes you’re not always in the mood for Collis stir-fry,” Bell said. “To find a good kitchen — it does wonders for you.”

Bonus Recipe!

Very Chocolate Brownies From: Janine Huffer, adapted from a Taste of Home recipe Makes: 9” x 13” pan of brownies 8 oz unsweetened chocolate 1 1/2 cup butter 4 cups sugar 6 eggs 2 teaspoons vanilla extract 2 cups all-purpose flour In a microwave or double boiler, melt chocolate and butter; cool for 10 minutes. Add sugar and mix well. Stir in eggs and vanilla. Add flour and mix well.

Grease a 9” x 13” pan, and pour batter into pan.

Bake at 350 degrees Fahrenheit for 35-40 minutes or until a toothpick inserted near the center comes out with moist crumbs (do not overbake). Cool completely before cutting.

RUSH

Skunks Isn’t it too cold for these little guys to be out still?

Base camp We haven’t made it to Salubre’s replacement yet but we hear they have some killer chillies.

Pumpkin spice lattes Well everything pumpkin is trending right now, because let’s face it, fall has officially fallen.

Little Vespas Either the Vespas are little, or the men riding them are big. The world may never know.

COrporate recruiting

Illness Get yourself to Dick’s House stat.

Courtesy of Kate Huffer

4// MIRROR

Guns, Germs and Steel:

How to survive a disaster at Dartmouth

MIRROR //5

The Baker Tower clock rang eight times on the morning of Februar y 18, 1904.

As campus began to come alive and students awoke, a fire broke out in Dartmouth Hall. Clouds of smoke billowed from the building as students raced to the scene amid sounds of ringing alarms. Water supplies for the volunteer fire department were low, and crowds stood idly by in sub-zero temperatures and watched as the iconic building burned to the ground. Less than two hours later, nothing was left but a pile of ashes and two window frames.

The disaster has left a smoldering scar in Dartmouth’s histor y, even though the building was rebuilt years ago. Prior to the flames, Dartmouth Hall hosted recitation halls, a chapel, the librar y and student dormitories. It was a symbol of the College, and its untimely demise destroyed one of the last physical pieces of Dartmouth’s early years.

We’ve been lucky that one of our community’s greatest disasters occurred over a centur y ago. Tucked away in the Upper Valley’s quiet hills, it’s easy to overlook the possibility of danger. Students abandon laptops at librar y desks for hours, and it’s common to leave dorm rooms unlocked. The wiring in Dartmouth Hall has been updated in recent years, so it’s unlikely that it will once again burst into flames on a winter morning. Here at The Mirror, however, preparing for the worst is second nature. While we certainly hope that none of the following situations ever occurs, students must understand just what to do when ever ything hits the fan at once.

FIRE: A senior sitting in the corner of the 1902 Room drops an anthology of British literature. The crash of the 3,000-word text jars you awake. You check your phone three times to make sure it’s actually 4:34 a.m., and realize you passed out on the couches two hours ago. You crawl back to your room in North Mass, strip down to the bare essentials and climb into bed. You’re counting the hours until your 9L when the fire alarms start to blare just as your eyes close. You roll over and tr y to shut it out, but your UGA bangs on the door and tells you to evacuate. You roll out of bed, grab your ID and cell phone, and walk into the hallway. Students march like zombies toward the building’s exit, and you wish you could go back to sleep. When you get to the end of the hall, you see smoke ever ywhere.

If you’re strolling to the bathroom in the early morning hours and you spot a fire, the first step is to clarify that there’s actually a fire. Three shots of espresso and 26 hours without sleep can play some tricks on you, but trust your instincts.

If it’s racing toward you and giving off hundreds of degrees of heat, it’s probably a fire. The next step is much easier said than done, but do not panic. Do whatever it takes to stay calm, whether it’s counting to 10 or thinking about that one time a baby cow licked your nose on your organic farming trip. Instead, Dartmouth has a system called C-A-R-E that could potentially solve the whole fire problem you’ve suddenly found yourself with.

• Contain the fire by closing all doors as you leave.

• Activate the nearest fire alarm.

• Report the fire — call 911.

• Evacuate or extinguish the fire.

As far as that last point goes, remember that you have to be properly trained before operating a fire extinguisher. Just ask the kids from your freshman floor who set off the fire extinguisher in the Fahey-McLane laundr y room and had Safety and Security at their door later that night. If you are trained, go ahead.

Just make sure you have your back to an unobstructed exit, you have contained and reported the fire and ever yone else has left the area. If it takes more than 30 seconds, you should evacuate and close the door behind you.

WINTER WEATHER: You’re exhausted. It’s been a long night. The Choates seem so far away, their fluorescent glow barely visible above the snowbank. You’ve left Phi Delt. You’ve got this. But you’re also so, so toasty in your winter gear. It’s time for a break. And it’s time to make snow angels. As you wave your arms, you realize something’s wrong. You’re stuck. You’re cold. You’ve fallen and you can’t get up. But it seems smart to stay put for a while. All of a sudden, your extremities start tingling a little too much.

From that one EMS class you accidentally walked in on, you know that if it’s frostbite you should cover your exposed fingertips and make sure not to rub them. If you’re also feeling light headed, uncontrollably shivering and not quite remembering how you got into the snowbank, make sure you seek medical attention immediately. Hypothermia is a serious medical issue. You’ll need to high-tail it to the nearest building, wrap yourself in any blankets you can find, get a friend to sprint to KAF for their hottest water (let’s be real, it’s always scalding) and make it to Dick’s House for some much needed R and R.

By Maddie Brown and Luke McCann

PLAGUE: The Sunday morning sun rises in the East at 7:15 a.m., and a small sliver of light finds its way through the window and right into your eyes. You stumble to the genderneutral bathroom on your floor and proceed to vomit up the mozzarella sticks you ate at LNC the night before. Your forehead is hot to the touch, your head feels like its being hammered at from the inside and it hurts to swallow your own saliva. You were determined to go to the librar y this morning as retribution for last night’s raging, but your newfound illness has left you to linger in your bed and scroll your Facebook newsfeed and view your 12 Snapchat stories.

Hours pass before you realize that it’s noon, you haven’t eaten and you still feel like death is imminent. A few Google searches later and you find yourself on WebMD. It’s not long before you’ve diagnosed yourself with mono, strep throat, the Black Plague, pregnancy and about 20 random diseases. Suddenly, all possible sources of infection come rushing into your brain. Was it the plastic ball that rolled on a dirty floor before being put into a cup you drank from? The sneeze guards in FoCo are nice, but what about those kids who breathe a little too closely to the food? You touched the computer keyboards on FFB while eating a muffin, surely the bacteria found their way into your body. You call your mom immediately, and she proceeds to tell you about the global plague that’s all over CNN. She has stricken fear into your heart, and you immediately call Safety and Security to drive you to Dick’s House.

Dick’s House, however, will not be your saving grace. If your mom is right and the disease is serious and infectious, you’ll be express shipped over to DartmouthHitchcock Medical Center. Like something out of a dystopian young adult novel, there’s a quarantine unit where those exposed to serious illnesses are contained until they can be treated.

In general, in order to prevent the spread of diseases, wash hands regularly, avoid close contact with others when an illness is “in season,” avoid touching your face, drink lots of water and get lots of sleep and pay attention to blitz for updates on campus diseases.

EARTHQUAKE: You’ve got Sade playing in the background. The playlist tells you that Mar vin Gaye, Ginuwine, Justin Timberlake and Usher are up next. The air freshener is out, the room is tidied up. You’re pacing. You’re afraid your ner ves are getting to you. You’re ner vous. You’re shaking. Wait, the room is shaking. The texts come flying in — is this happening? Is this real life? Is this an earthquake in Hanover? Yes, it is.

The shakes become more violent, and you cling to your bed. You can’t reach your phone to call your friend from California. Your friend from California would have told you to stay away from windows and large shelves. To protect yourself, seek refuge under a table. If you can’t fit under your dorm’s desk, rest against a wall and cover your head. Wait until the shaking stops, and look for messages from College officials.

They’ll tell you when it’s okay to flitz your sweetheart to reschedule.

For more information on how to handle any form of disaster at Dartmouth, visit the Dartmouth Emergency Preparedness website.

ERIN O’NEIL // THE DARTMOUTH SENIOR STAFF Information courtesy of Dartmouth Emergency Preparedness

6// MIRROR

Through The Looking Glass Patience COLUMN

B y mark baum

If you receive advice with a closed mind you’re likely to reject it. But this is a “Dear Freshmen” article, so try to keep an open mind and I won’t have wasted your time.

Good job graduating from high school. I would say “congrats on getting in,” but you hear that enough already.

How many times did orientation speakers describe you and your classmates as the smartest, most talented and most capable members of your graduating high school classes? Maybe you are, but there’s a word for people with grandiose views of themselves. So it’s time to start thinking about how to be happy at Dartmouth, instead of how great it is just to be here.

You’ve arrived prepared to immerse yourselves in new group of people.

Despite the preparation — mental and cosmetic — it isn’t possible to be comfortable here instantly. If you let trips convince you that you really were being “welcomed home,” that you instantly fit in after you spent your first night in your dorm room, you’re delusional. You’re expecting too much. That doesn’t mean that you’re an outsider. It’s just going to take time. It doesn’t matter if your extended family and all five of your older siblings went to Dartmouth — you’re your own person. It doesn’t matter if you have a boyfriend or girlfriend from home and won’t have to fret about your romantic future here. Maintaining the long distance relationship might actually be harder than the alternative. It doesn’t matter if you’re the most sociable person this campus has ever seen, and you’re waiting for everyone to acknowledge you as such and grab on to your shoelaces before you get too far up the social ladder. Everyone has to go through the less-than-comfortable process of making new friends and adjusting to a new place.

I just want to share some advice about how not to deal with the discomfort, despite how much of it you might be experiencing.

Don’t become a caricature of yourself to smooth out the learning curve.

Please resist that temptation. Be careful about how you react to discomfort and don’t waste your time pretending to be someone you aren’t, or pretending to be some fraction of yourself. Yes, yes, we know — “be yourself.” But don’t be afraid to think about how total the immersion is for you and most of your classmates. Unless you have your own room, almost every minute of every day here has been spent surrounded by new people — people when you sleep, people in the gym, people when you eat, maybe people in the bathroom, et cetera. The upside of this situation is that it forces you to make friends, which you will. But unless you’re one of those few assholes from New York who already knows half the school on the first day, or at least acts like they do, you really are getting a fresh start here.

You might look around and see up-

TRACY WANG // THE DARTMOUTH SENIOR STAFF

Mark Baum ’15 dishes out advice to freshmen on how to succeed socially at Dartmouth without losing yourself in the process. perclassmen mostly satisfied with their social circle, calmly navigating daily life.

Remember they’ve had at least a year, and maybe three, to achieve that calm, and some of it was spent away from school gaining perspective. You might envy your classmates who play sports because they had a group of friends assembled for them before they even got here. Don’t worry about that either, because a lot of them will realize sports aren’t worth it, quit and have to revive the life they initially built around their team.

You might feel annoyed with how often you answer the question, “Who should I eat with and where?” — a constant reminder of whose company you keep, and for that matter, don’t keep. Of course the “who” part of that question is more open-ended than the “where” in Hanover.

You might start thinking a lot about your lack of connections here because even though you consciously expected not to know anyone right away, it still seems like you’re behind.

If it does seem like that, like everyone here already has many friends, that’s because most people actually do.

But friends are a product of time and you haven’t spent very much here yet.

While you finished high school, the older classes were here carving out and reshaping their little niches, slowly but surely (think about how different you felt at the end of high school vs. the beginning). But don’t make the mistake of believing that the carving process is at all intentional, because eventually you’ll ask yourself where you intend to

be socially in three years, as if planning a major. It will take time to find the places you like to hang out and the people you like to hang out with, so don’t be in a hurry. There aren’t any shortcuts. If you let yourself feel pressured to find your people and places quickly, you risk engaging in a popularity contest — trying just to be liked by people — instead of respected, cared about, understood, et cetera. Simply being liked is different than finding a comfortable place here.

Being too concerned with social life encourages people to put too much effort into being liked, so that they also become uninteresting, really bland in the way that people are when they’re faking it.

They suppress the dimensions of themselves across which unique connections are made. No doubt, you will see this happening to some of your classmates.

They realize that playing up the most identifiable aspect of their personality will make it easy to find people to spend time with. They revert to the version of themselves that comes easiest. Maybe they feel noticed, but the sorry truth is that they accomplish just the opposite.

They manage to fit in in a boring way, like a person who only has one mood, totally predictable. What’s worse, they may not get over that initial discomfort before graduating, because after a while it gets hard to stop pretending and they never really find their place. This isn’t a sacrifice worth making.

Maybe this sounds dramatic to freshman and accusatory to upperclassmen, but I think some people really do throw

away parts of themselves to fit in, which is just so unnecessary at Dartmouth.

Social stuff is relatively simple and easy to navigate. Because the town doesn’t provide ver y much entertainment, Dartmouth has large social structures in place to connect people, namely the Dartmouth Outing Club and Greek system. You don’t have to choose from a million places to go and as many ways to spend your time. You also don’t get to, but at the very least, everyone on campus is within a few square miles of each other almost all the time. People (i.e., New Yorkers) complain about “the bubble,” but those same people would praise Dartmouth’s “uniqueness” because of the very same feeling, the physical closeness and location/isolation — Camp Dartmouth. Not everybody wants to be a part of the structures, to be put in a box, but even the rebels admit that the structures work well. They’re practical, if flawed. It’s silly to get caught up forcing the development of your social self, because if you’re really worried you can start by taking advantage of some of the structures and saying yes to things. Sign up for some trips, get to know your floor, join a group or two (a cappella if you have to, ski patrol only if you really have to). Wait to join a house, and rightly prioritize other things, like finding meaningful work to do while you’re here — whatever meaningful means to you. Just be patient and don’t confuse the structures for more than they are. You use the structures, not the other way around.

FRIDAYS WITH MARIAN COLUMN By Marian Lurio

Boots and RallIES

MIRROR //7

COLUMN

By Aaron Pellowski

As graduation looms closer, I need as much guidance as possible. Forget academic advisors and CDP — I’ve recently discovered that the sage wisdom provided through astrology is the way to go. Here’s what the New York Post’s “Postrology” section had to say to me and all the other Cancers out there: “The choices you make over the next few days will have a major impact on your social or professional reputation, so make them wisely. Above all don’t let other people rush you into cutting corners or cutting back on essentials. Do it right.”

After reading that, I decided to do it right. I quickly got rid of the column I planned to submit this week, which wasn’t that relevant anyway. Was this reading a sign from the stars referring to my career prospects when I graduate in eight months or so?

Well it’s too late for that one — last week’s career fair didn’t fit in with my social (i.e., Netflix) schedule. Job prospects are grim, and I certainly didn’t do myself any favors by not attending this, or any other event, planned by our dedicated Center for Professional Development. I’ve been down that road before. So, I’ve got to ask myself the tough but essential question — what [D-list] celebrity do I want to emulate in my career and life? What kind of impact do I want to have? What legacy do I want to leave on this world?

Naturally, I immediately scrolled through my Twitter feed to find out.

Maybe I should emulate a Dartmouth grad, I thought to myself. Who pops up in my feed but Dinesh D’Souza ’83, conservative pundit and Obama conspiracy theorist (a real gem). As we all know, D’Souza was sentenced to spend eight months in a confinement center, five years on probation and a lot of time contemplating his life choices.

While he is narrowly avoiding (real) jail time, I’d rather not follow in his footsteps.

Also in the headlines was Mike “The Situation” Sorrentino of the hit MTV show “Jersey Shore.” Sorrentino pleaded not guilty in federal court Wednesday to tax and conspiracy charges, I guess sometimes fame doesn’t pay. If those two, who have nothing whatsoever in common — and whose names have probably never been uttered in the same sentence — both succumbed to greed and corruption, is any celebrity or pseudo-celebrity safe? Am I safe?If this controversial (in terms of Sorrentino’s strained and platonic relationship with the beloved Snooki) reality star can make $9 million dollars doing whatever it is that he does over the course of five years, then I think it’s time for me to drop out of school and get myself on a reality show.

Of course, there is one Head Bitch In Charge who isn’t facing indictment, and who has become a role model in my life. I am, of course, talking about Choupette Lagerfeld, the sharp-tongued feline companion of Chanel and Fendi designer, Karl Lagerfeld. Reportedly Lagerfeld refused to lend her out to other designers, explaining that she’s above the commercial lifestyle. However, she’s inspired handbags, a makeup collection and a book — but most of all, she’s inspired me. She’s clearly living the life. She has two maids, Francoise and Marjorie, who take care of her and track her everyday activities. According to her Wikipedia page, she prefers Francoise.

When I grow up, I want to play favorites among those who tend to me.

But furry friends aside, there are a few other celebrities whose careers I would love to model. Over the past two weeks, I have become obsessed with Joan Rivers. I’ve heard many use the word “legend” to describe her since her death, and while I wish I could say that she’s been my hero for a long time, I only knew her as the old woman on E!’s show “Fashion Police.” However, on the day of her funeral, I discovered the gold that is “Joan and Melissa: Joan Knows Best?” — a “reality” show based on the premise of Rivers moving in with her daughter Melissa and Melissa’s 9-yearold son, Cooper. It’s simply delightful.

As a comedian, I know that you always have to stay current. Rivers was no exception — just look at the evolution of her face over the decades of her career. I would like to thank Joan for her irreverent, unapologetic and often biting words. And although that kind of comedic genius is a rare gift that most people only think they possess, we should all take a page from her book (actually, I think she’s written more than one).

I’m reluctant to think of a world without Joan Rivers’s jokes, but then again, until two weeks ago I didn’t know a world with her jokes. Of course with death comes new life, and it’s (reportedly) coming straight out of Beyonce’s womb. But that’s a topic for next week.

So, readers (Phil, have you gotten this far?), I want to leave you with this advice — say what’s on your mind and don’t apologize, unless you are D’Souza, in which case you should apologize for everything you say. Lastly, more fourletter expletives, please.

That’s the advice I’ll follow once I start my job search (emphasis on start).

I have no doubt it will serve me well.

“Son of a Gun” is a Dartmouth drinking song that’s managed to survive into the 21st century through the repertoires of a cappella groups and oddball enthusiasts. It’s also a favorite of mine, primarily because it’s basically a song about beer, which, along with my girlfriend and “Seinfeld,” constitute the only three things that give my wretched life any meaning. “Son of a Gun” is a joyful panegyric on fun and festivity — “Let every honest fellooooow / Drink his glass of hearty cheeeeeer! / For I’m a student of old Dartmouth and a son of a gun for beer!”

The lyrics ignite sepia-tinted memories of a world that died before I was born, in which all undergraduates entered with a mastery of Latin and Greek, firm values and enough sense to recoil in disbelief were they to ever encounter a time-traveling ambassador from our decade, tasked with explaining the phenomenon of the selfie. You can imagine these fellows, arm-in-arm, gathered around a fireplace after final examinations, smoking pipes and heaving flagons of ale to the ceiling, hearts ablaze with the joy of camaraderie uninterrupted by the soul-sucking sorcery of Twitter and BuzzFeed quizzes.

The energetic climax surges as the singer announces, “And if I had a son, sir / I tell you what he’d do! / He’d yell ‘To hell with Harvard!’ like his daddy used to do!” At which point in my fantasy, the song repeats three or four more times until its singers collapse, happily wasted into leather armchairs, dreaming of European art and love untainted by Taylor Swift’s interpretation of the human condition.

The “to hell with Harvard” bit is quite titillating, though. I conjecture that this sentiment is a fossil from such older days of the Ivy League, before the haunting Princeton Review rankings, the multimillion-dollar admissions industry, CollegeConfidential.com, the College Board and the hordes of status-anxious parents. It was a time when feelings of difference among colleges amounted to little more than friendly rivalries to be settled on the football field, or perhaps the occasional jibe at a Yale man’s assumed cocaine usage and closeted homosexuality.

Nowadays, it’s a gross truth that the name of the Ivy League is no longer about sports, but an empty arthropodal husk, a hollow encrustation of “prestige.” The lucky members simultaneously enjoy the insane entitlement and opportunities of the Ancient Eight while suffering from niggling embarrassment and awkwardness when asked about their privileged schooling by interlocutors hailing from the real world. What no one seems to talk much about is the internal complex of resentment of inferiority within the Ivy League itself. Sure, Harvard made a very funny video lampooning Yale, but it would have been somehow cruel to target Penn, Brown or any of the other “Fivies.”Isn’t it hard enough to suffer the indignity of attending a Tier-Two Ivy League school without the added sting?

No. Get over yourself.

If you’ve spent anytime at Dartmouth, you’ve likely either overheard or partaken in some kind

of degrading, anti-Harvard fanfare. Before I even went on freshman trips, I was surprised in Collis by the Welcome Croo with a choreographed, musical announcement “There isn’t going to be any four-hour safety talk. That is some Harvard shit!” as part of a snappy song-and-dance routine spoofing Kesha’s “Blow.” In a philosophy seminar, a student openly derided the Harvard-based author of a paper we had read, unaware that our professor attended undergrad there.

These are not isolated incidents. Much like the burrito that was disemboweled and deposited in my backpack, by a vicious classmate of mine in seventh grade English while I was on the can, the Harvard Shmarvard fanfare seems to be everywhere — it stinks, and it persists.

This bogus junk is not just almost always baseless and uncreative — it’s embarrassing. After all, Anti-Harvard (and anti-Yale, Princeton, Stanford, to a much lesser extent) jabber is motivated, with few exceptions, by an entrenched cultural inferiority complex. Dartmouth is substantially populated

by Harvard rejects who have not learned how to cope with disappointment in a mature fashion.

We need to realize that college admissions and rankings are a chaotic circus of baloney. Instead of nursing our bruised egos with sniggering digs at Harvard, we should grasp the opportunity to critically examine how we build our identities and how much we rely on external sources for validation.

I don’t so much blame Dartmouth students as I do the larger structures that have inculcated into them what I think are some really crumby values, and administrative forces who haven’t done much to sustain Dartmouth’s integrity as a liberal arts institution, choosing instead to pander to a perceived need to keep Dartmouth competitive.

A competitive spirit, when exercised virtuously, is healthy. But the way things are, it’s not healthy.

This kind of rancid competition nurtures class after class of public school valedictorians who delight in soothing their supposedly second-rate achievements by perpetuating an elaborate culture of obnoxious ressentiment (that’s the French word for having a stick up your ass). In doing so, they perpetuate the very ideas that dub their achievements “second-rate” in the first place. Would it be so much to ask for Dartmouth students to chill out a little, and reflect on the enormous blessing of getting to take classes here at all?

This seems like a lesson that could go far in improving all our characters in the long run. I’m not saying that we should ignore our emotions when we feel like we’ve failed or disappointed ourselves, but masking them with sardonic vitriol is a far worse solution than stepping back and looking at the bigger picture, sizing up what you don’t have with what you want out of life and maybe realizing that everything’s fine. Some of us will never experience rejection or failure, but most of us will. There are smart, honest, authentic ways of coping with these basic human experiences, but I cannot love anyone who makes a habit of transmuting frustration into pathetic resentment, nor any group that makes it a tradition.

8// MIRROR

LAUREN HUFF

Hinman Box 3439 Lauren.E.Huff.17@dartmouth.edu EDUCATION: Dartmouth College, Hanover, N.H. Bachelor of Arts: Major is Undecided Honors: • Never lost a fracket • Record for most consecutive days eating brie and apple for lunch • Most improved in making it to the Life Sciences Center on time for class WORK EXPERIENCE: Freelance DJ: • Utilize tools such as Spotify to create a diverse selection of playlists for social gatherings with my friends.

• Sometimes make the playlists myself.

Professional Organizer: • Tendencies reminiscent of obsessive compulsive disorder symptoms compel me to spend hours on end reorganizing my drawers, computer desktop and even the physical top of my desk.

• Demonstrate my dedication by prioritizing these crucial tasks over things such as studying and papers.

Research Experience: • Regularly conduct observational studies of student socializing patterns on the Green. Dartmouth’s unique climate sometimes prevents the possibility of research due to harsh conditions.

• Accurate results require a beautiful sunny day and a temperature of at least 65 degrees. This typically occurs around four or five times each year.

• Extensive investigation to confirm or deny Morano Gelato’s status as the best gelato east of the Mississippi.

Results pending.

LEADERSHIP AND VOLUNTEER EXPERIENCE: Honed my Wilderness Survival Skills: Viewer — The Couch • Utilized ABC’s “Lost” as a source of valuable wisdom regarding outdoor endeavors. Hours of footage demonstrated key skills such as transporting unstable dynamite, identifying decayed human bodies and escaping from captivity under insane experimental psychologists.

• Following this rigorous viewing, I am now prepared to take on any situation life throws at me, provided I have the fully intact remains of a crashed airplane as supplies.

Got Acquainted with the Medical Field: Patient and observer — The Hospital • Experienced firsthand the intricacies of the notoriously simple yet unbearably painful tonsillectomy. My relentless dedication to medicine and continuous pursuit of further knowledge led me to return for a second surgery, in order to experience and fully understand the process of wound re-cauterization.

• Further demonstrated my commitment to the field by eating literally nothing besides Kids Carnival Pops and Jell-O for a full 14 days. Can now attest that these are the most important tools in a tonsillectomy, and are far more necessary than any of the instruments used during surgery.

Gained Valuable Experience in the Automotive Industry: Driver — Massachusetts • Improved my driving abilities tenfold by hauling out to Middle of Nowhere, Massachusetts every weekday on behalf of my brother’s hockey career.

• Was assigned crucial tasks such as transporting protein powder and waiting in parking lots.

• Practiced difficult technical skills including implementing cruise control and exiting on the left.

Explored Culinary Passion: Chef — The Kitchen • Tested the limits of my gastronomic imagination while simultaneously seriously enhancing my cooking prowess.

• Two key factors, a.) lack of access to DDS and b.) proximity to a functioning kitchen, forced me to break from my diet consisting solely of stir-fry and FoCo cookies to discover a world of delicious options.

• Examples of novel creations include Eggo waffles with Nutella and strawberries and microwavable Panera mac and cheese (gourmet Easy Mac).

SKILLS: Technical/Computer: Dealing with blitz (seriously), Netflix Other: Throw saves

ERIN O’NEIL // THE DARTMOUTH SENIOR STAFF