Vol. 143, No. 9
THE YALE
Apr. 20, 2015
RECORD
THE GRADUATION ISSUE
Aaron Gertler ’15 Chairman
Scott Stern ’15 Editor-in-Chief
Natalie Warren ’17 Art Director
Sasha Rae-Grant ’18 Assistant Design Editor
Sam Savitz ’17 Business Manager
Madeline Kaplan ’17 Managing Editor
Sahil Gupta ’17 Online Editor
Zach Schloss ’15 Publicity Manager
Chris Rudeen ’17 Copy Editor
Nick Goel ’16 Publisher Daniel Hoogstraten ’17 Design Editor
Rachel Lackner ’17 Ethan Campbell-Taylor ’16 Special Projects Director Staff Director
Ian Gonzalez ’16 Managing Editor
Ben Rudeen ’17 Managing Editor
Ben Garfinkel ’16 Supplementals Editor
Mitchell Nobel, LAW ’16 Legal Counsel
Staff Writers, Artists, & Designers: Graham Ambrose ‘18, Brian Beitler ‘18, Louisa Cone ‘18, Amanda Corcoran ‘18, Valcy Etienne ‘16, Max Goldberg ‘17, Cover Art: Annelisa Leinbach ‘16
Chasan Hall ‘18, Mikayla Harris ‘17, Mitchell Harris ‘16, Victoria Kim ‘15, Archie Kinnane ‘18, Joseph Kuperschmidt ‘16,
Doo Lee ‘16, Roger Lopez ‘18, Annelisa Leinbach ‘16, Alison Mansfield ‘17, Tom McCoy ‘17, Andrew Megerian ‘18,
Elizabeth Miles ‘17, Isaac Morrier ‘17, Alex Ringlein ‘18, Jonathan Rutter ‘18, Natalya Sanghvi ‘18, Harrison Schneider ‘17,
Justin Shi ‘18, Sarah Sukin ‘18, Teddy Thum ‘18, Lining Wang ‘15, Madeleine Witt ‘15, Alex Zhang ‘18
Founded September 11, 1872 • Vol. CXLIII, No. 6, Published in New Haven, CT by The Yale Record, Inc. Box 204732, New Haven, CT 06520 • yalerecord.com/magazine • Subscriptions: $50/year (print) • $10/year (electronic)
All contents copyright 2015 The Yale Record, Inc. The Yale Record is a magazine produced by Yale students; Yale University is not responsible for its contents. Any resemblance to characters and events portrayed herein, without satirical intent, is purely coincidental. The Record grudgingly acknowledges your right to correspond: letters should be addressed to: Chairman, The Yale Record, PO Box 204732, New Haven, CT 06520, or chairman@yalerecord.com. Offer only valid at participating retailers while supplies last. The Yale Record would like to high-five the UOFC for its financial support.
The Graduation Checklist Complete at least 36 credits OR fold at least 36,000 paper cranes. Turn in senior paper/project/sick mix tape. Begin bragging about your LSAT score. You’ve moved on from bragging about your SAT score— you’re mature now. Go door to door, telling each of your friends whether or not you will make an effort to maintain friendship with them. Find a job. Or a treasure map. Or a long maze book. Anything to pass the time, really. Order cap and gown. Return the 12 mugs, 4 trays, and priceless portrait of John C. Calhoun that you took from the dining hall. Turn down job at Goldman Sachs to pursue your dream of working for a non-for-profit in Africa, where you will live in a hut without running water, electricity, or privacy, or… Take the job at Goldman. Just for a few years, until you get on your feet! Just a few years… —B. Beitler
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here comes a time in every young boy’s life when Plus, I have every reason to believe next year’s board he realizes he will never play professional base- will be even better! Ben “Gar Gar Finks” Garfinkel—with ball. For me, that day was two weeks ago. his will-he-won’t-he glasses wearing—is sure to be a refreshingly mysterious choice for Editor-in-Chief. Ian Early in May, I received two life-changing emails: the Gonzalez will, godwilling, continue the proud Publisher first was from the Yale University registrar’s office, asking tradition of keeping us solvent and having the magazine me to confirm the spelling of my name—for my diploma. come out on time-ish. And I know Nick Goel faces a steep My fucking diploma. Jesus. I’m old. The second was learning curve, but I’m confident he will, one day, learn from a Nigerian prince, telling me that just by wiring him to sit in chairs. (To those of you who say that joke is a bit $2,000, I could help liberate $11 million from a closing tired, I say, why the long face?) bank and, in so doing, make a cool $1.1 million finder’s fee. Needless to say, I complied. So yeah. I’m just going to stay a member of the Record’s staff for the rest of my life. Just try and stop me— These two events began to convince me that my dreams with my Nigerian millions, what can’t I do? of becoming the starting second baseman for the Yankees —S. Stern might be a tad far-fetched. (I could still play for the PiEditor-in-Chief rates, of course.) As a college graduate—as an alumnus of this storied institution—would I be able to fit in among my fellow muscle-bound athletes? And as a newly minted member of the 1 percent, would I alienate my hardscrabble, working-class fellow occupants of the dugout? But if not baseball, then what? I began to consider all of the other career paths in front of me. Of course, there were the obvious: finance, consulting, European gigolo. I could, I suppose, do something equally fulfilling, like becoming a Dickensian orphan-starver or dealing meth. Or, and I don’t write this lightly—typing, as I do, with lead-polished fingernails—I could just stay on the Record forever! I mean, we’ve had a pretty good run. I was a pretty damn ok Editor-in-Chief! But let’s be honest, Chairman Aaron Gertler did most of my job for me. (He also did most of everyone else’s, which explains the Record’s new minimalist layout and sensible donations to GiveWell.) And Publisher Nick Goel kept the magazines coming out on time and kept everyone entertained by joining me in long, passionate, sweaty Groupme arguments.
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MY BIGGEST REGRET AS A GRADUATING SENIOR
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s I begin to pack away my clothes and books, and say final goodbyes to friends and suitemates, I look back on the last four years of my life at Yale with a fondness that can only come from a place of great sincerity. I’ve had some great times here, like the first time I went to Toad’s, or when I saw All-Time Low at Toad’s, or that time I found a quarter outside of Toad’s. But there have been some hard times too, like the time I drunkenly fell into the moat outside of the Morse basement, scaring a suite full of sophomore girls and fracturing my right arm, or the time I got run over by a security guard riding one of those scooter things. I have to say, though, I have enjoyed every moment of my time here, and have learned a lot, both in and out of Toad’s. As I stare introspectively out of this window, as people looking back on their lives so often do, I think of my experience, and realize that I have but a single regret. And no, it’s not that I never hooked up with my adequately hot TA, or stole one of those diaper-wearing goats from the baby animal study break in Stiles. It’s not even that I skipped my brother’s wedding for chicken tenders day, or the time I accidentally sexted my lit professor. I feel no tinge of sorrow when I look back on these events. You see, I never once tried the vegan Gardein Chick’n. This is my one remorse. Covered with a spicy sauce, sautéed with vegetables, or served over rice: never have I sampled the flavors of soy-based chicken substitute. Oh how I wish I could have resisted the temptation of Morse pizza just once, or found some room on my plate of full of mushroom ravioli and corn casserole for just a single piece, but alas: my stomach is left wondering and rumbling, with no satisfaction in sight. And as I prepare to graduate, I can’t help but feel that it is too late. When I am old and dying, and I look upon my life, what will I see? A meaningful existence full of love and happiness, or a vegan Gardein Chick’n shaped hole where my heart should be? Only time will tell. —R. Lackner
A COMMENCEMENT ADDRESS
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t’s such an honor for me to speak to you today, on the great occasion of your graduation from Yale University. You truly are the future leaders of America. Webster’s defines “graduation” as “the act of receiving a diploma or degree from a school, college, or university; the act of graduating.” I think it’s important that we all take a moment to reflect on what that means. (Pause for reflection.) I hope we were all thinking of the definition I just read, because that’s what it means. It’s especially exciting for me to be here today because, forty years ago, I was exactly where you were: sitting in a chair. At my dog’s graduation from Dog School. And now look at me! I’m standing up now. As new graduates, everyone’s going to be giving you advice on what you should do with your life. After all, you’re the future leaders of America. They’re going to tell you how to live, and how to succeed. But you shouldn’t listen to any of them. Just me! (Pause for laughter.) But seriously though, I’m going to give you the secret to a happy life. It’s just three little words. But those three little words can get you through anything. Let’s all count to three, so we can get a sense of just how low a number that is. (Pause for counting.) It’s not a lot. The words mean a lot, though. And those words are: Follow your heart! Well, that’s about all the time I have. Farewell, future leaders of America. Good luck leading America, in the future. —M. Kaplan
NEW HAVEN, CONN ECTICU T ·
MONDAY, MAY. 18, 2014 2015 · V OL. CX LIII , NO. 9
· yalerecord.com
Yale Graduate Amazed to Find Parents’ Basement Pretty Similar to Calhoun College BY GRAHAM AMBROSE STAFF REPORTER EAST BRUNSWICK, NJ — After graduating from Yale College earlier this month, Andrew Matherson ’15 returned to New Jersey on Sunday to a home surprisingly pretty similar to Calhoun College. “My mom’s really decked the place out to avoid some of the culture shock I was expecting during my re-acclimation,” Matherson said while
stuffing his face with Mal- nights, or loud music, or low Oats and half-cooked friends coming over after catch-of-the-day. The midnight, or intercourse. basement, where the club But other than that’s it’s lacrosse star learned how to pretty much your classic play Halo 2, kiss a girl, and college dorm.” Matherson plans to wipe a search history clear of porn, will be his home spend a few months writing for the next two years as he his novel before applying for grapples with the sinking long-term work. “It won’t ever be exactly Calhoun,” reality of unemployment. Deborah Matherson says he said, “but hey, at least it she set up the basement to isn’t TD.” feel like the college environment he loved. “Well, of course there’ll be no drink- Contact GRAHAM AMBROSE ing, or marijuana, or late at join@yalerecord.com
Honorary Degree Awarded to Yo Mama BY ARCHIE KINNANE STAFF REPORTER NEW HAVEN, CT — Citing her breakthrough achievements in being so fat, President Peter Salovey awarded Yo Mama an honorary degree at Yale’s commencement this weekend. “It is fully deserved,” Salovey said. “Yo Mama is a pioneer in her field—one of the first to look at a restaurant menu and say ‘Yes,’ and part of the team that revolutionized our understanding of being so fat by leaving in high heels and coming back in flip flops.”
Salovey went on to say that he wished Yo Mama could have been on stage with him, but all of Yale’s engineers were not able to design a structure strong enough to support her colossal weight. “We wanted to provide Yo Mama a gift along with the honorary degree,” Salovey said, “but what can you get the person who has already eaten everything? We considered giving Yo Mama life-long free Wifi, but she is already worldwide. We thought about sending her on a bungee jumping trip, but we were
worried about collapsing the bridge, and, we unfortunately couldn’t find any harnesses in size equator.” That Yo Mama’s achievements earned an honorary degree is especially impressive considering the sub-par education she received as a child. “She went to a public school, where they didn’t have the funding to even provide a math class,” said Yo Mama’s close friend A Priest Walking Into a Bar. “Also, they didn’t have a history class, but that was just on account of Yo Mama being so old.”
Knock confirmed that Sources close to Yo Mama reveal that despite on second thought Yo the scarce opportunities Mama was likely just hunprovided to her, she had a gry. Yo Mama is expected to thirst for education, and also was thirsty so she put remain in New Haven for some period of time. There a straw in the ocean. “I remember one time is speculation that she will a school bus from the teach a seminar in the fall, wealthy private school join the administration in drove past us,” said Yo some capacity, or that Yo Mama’s childhood friend Mama is so stupid when Knock Knock. “And from she goes to the airport, she the twinkle in her eye you sees a sign that says ‘Aircould tell Yo Mama was so port Left’ and turns around jealous of how much they and goes home. were getting to learn, so Yo Mama ran after the school Contact ARCHIE KINNANE at bus yelling, ‘Stop that join@yalerecord.com Twinkie!’”
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How many smart, sweaty Saybrugians does it take to bring home an intramural C-hoops championship? Apparently more than 10, because the Saybrook C-hoops men’s basketball team hasn’t won a game in three years. But while the ladies may flock to the men’s varsity football, hockey, basketball, and lacrosse teams, we at The Record find ourselves drawn to this rag-tag group of loveable and shockingly sweaty (seriously, why are they so sweaty?) losers. The team has faced constant heartbreak over the past few seasons. It all began when each member of the team received a letter the summer before their freshman years informing them that they had been assigned to Saybrook College. Can you imagine? And as if that wasn’t enough, these students then decided to devote their evenings to repping Yale’s shittiest (in all senses of the word) college on the intramural basketball court. Unless you live under a rock (still preferable to living in Saybrook), you’re surely familiar with the Saybrook squad. You might find them at Toad’s on Wednesday nights, dancing in the corner and eyeing the busty babes of Silliman’s intramural ping-pong team, scoring even less than they do on the court. You might see them seated together in MB&B 425: the team is notorious for taking Yale’s toughest classes as
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a group (but they never share notes, because Yale is about challenging yourself and enriching your mind rather than benefitting from the work of others, you free-loading bastard). Or you may see them enjoying a mid-afternoon snack at Alpha Delta—
yesterday—it came down to the final minute,” said Jack Lowell ’15, who agreed to speak to this reporter after an apparently exhausting two-minute stint on the treadmill in the Saybrook gym. “Right before tip-off, our fifth player showed up. Calhoun only had
They may not be your typical sports team, but they’re good enough for The Record. And since you’re reading this, they’re probably good enough for you, too. Would we sleep with them? No. Would we go out drinking with them? No. Would we sit most personable with them in the dining AMATEURS hall? Hell no. But would we give them a quick nod and make brief conversation three people because their while passing them on captain had sent the team the wrong game time, and Cross Campus? Absolutely. they had to forfeit. We got And, ultimately, isn’t that so drunk that night. I would what Yale is all about? do anything to experience the thrill of victory once more. Well, actually I’m – Z. SCHLOSS
SAYBROOK C-HOOPS MEN’S BASKETBALL TEAM
part of a new and allegedly “European” training method introduced by their star point guard, Ethan Willoughby SY ’17, who leads the league in body weight with a grand total of 254 pounds. “Sports are all… aaalllllcuff…about... auughhh…blaahdfdf… camaraderie,” said Willoughby while choking on his third Wenzel of the day. “Hang together, eat together, sleep together, study together, watch Space Jam together, eat together, eat together. If you do all that and never forget to eat together, you’re bound to win together. Well, not right away. But eventually, maybe. I mainly love eating together.” Some of the team’s older players are a bit more competitive and can recall the last time the team recorded a big W. “I remember it like it was
pretty busy with other stuff, so I don’t have a lot of time to practice. I guess I’m pretty fine with the way things are.”
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PIECES I NEVER WROTE FOR THE YALE RECORD AND NOW WILL NEVER GET TO WRITE AT ALL, OH GOD, OH GOD, I'M SO SCARED, I DON'T WANT TO LEAVE, OH GOD U.S. Presidents You May Not Have Heard Of Four Weird Advertisements For Ice Cream That Would Exist If Ice Cream Wasn't Delicious What If Birds Could Use The Internet? Ten Jokes We Wish We'd Never Made, Because They Really Offended People The First Time Around What If A Serial Killer Who Picks Up Hitchhikers Picked Up A Hitchhiker Who Was Also A Serial Killer And They Decided To Go On The Great American Road Trip? The Erotic Adventures Of Former Yale Record Editors-In-Chief Fifteen Lies About Dolphins What If All People Were Actually Me? Six URLs Of YouTube Videos Where Michelle Obama Eats Vegetables In Slow Motion Why Is Everybody Else Wearing Clothes At This Naked Party? —A. Gertler
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Congratulations Class of 2015!