It’s difficult for me to offer any sort of retrospective regarding my triumphant, white-knuckled thrill-ride with the Yale Daily News. Half of the articles I wrote never even got printed, as they were shot down at the last second by some mysterious editor who supervises this publication, always deeming what I had written “offensive.” Perhaps I truly belonged in the “edgy” scene section, where I could have incorporated swear words and inanely veiled sexual references in conjunction with the trying quotidian life of the “Yalie” (a word I don’t recommend using outside of Yale for certain safety reasons).
I’ve never really known what to make of this University. It can be at once brilliant and ridiculous, individualistic and shockingly superficial. The academic experience we’ve all had is no doubt unparalleled, yet certain aspects of Yale leave us scratching our heads now and then, saying, “What kind of school is this?”
I’m going to give just one example: singing groups. I’ve always loathed singing groups. Why is there this inexplicable and excruciatingly annoying cult-following surrounding “singing groups” at Yale? If mankind ever returned to some sort of post-apocalyptic primitivism where we had to survive only in nature, people in singing groups would be the first to be killed and eaten.
OK, I know I sound like I hate everything and everyone sometimes, but in fact, I applaud everyone I’ve ever lashed out at for giving Yale its diversity and uniqueness. I just think we all take ourselves a little too seriously here, which makes for some classic idiocy.
John Phillips is a senior in Timothy Dwight College.