Lately CWRU has grown pretty blatant about its goal of gaining some national recognition, which was apparently brought on by the complaints of faculty members who were tired of being asked, "Is that a four-year institution?" and, "I bet those Minnesota winters are killers, huh?" at academic conferences.
Right now, CWRU's students are perceived merely as intelligent sloths, counting down the credit hours until graduation.
"So," you say, "how can I help? How can I show that this place turns out inventive leaders? What can I do to put this place on the map and help recruit other top-notch creative people like myself to this school?"
It's simple. What CWRU needs is a good, clever prank.
I'm talking about a major-league, lawsuits-are-pending, "This is Dan Rather reporting from Cleveland" type of stunt. If everyone logging onto a computer at MIT found their accounts erased with a taunting message like, "We are Case. Fear us," as all that remained, their respect for us would balloon. Trust me.
Heck, it doesn't even have to be a prank; any large-scale stunt will do. If some motivated students stormed and seized Adelbert Hall one weekend in protest of not being able to pay tuition with points, it would be sure to draw the attention and admiration of politically-active future senators from across the country.
So what do you say, gang? The reputation of CWRU is in our hands, and it only takes one motivated dreamer to get the ball rolling. Have some spirit and do your school proud: go cause some trouble.
Being a veteran of several first-weeks-of-school here at CWRU, I know that the madness of bookstore lines, drop/add hassles, and settling into a new place of residence can all be quite unnerving.
One of the best nonchemical ways I've found to deal with all this stress is to sit back for a minute, get out of the way, and watch all the other people scurrying about on their futile errands. Like a large scale ant farm, you'll see all sorts of strange and exotic people keeping themselves as busy as possible. Let me be you tour guide through this CWRUzoo, and introduce you to several of the more interesting creatures you may see:
The Upperclass Engineer
This group has witnessed a population explosion in recent years, despite an unsuccessful breeding program here on campus. Easily identified by his pallid complexion, vacant stare, and use of the words "utilize, optimize, and Jean-Luc Picard," the upperclass engineer can be observed during the first week of school designing and building a mammoth loft. The purpose of this loft is unknown, but it appears to be a rite of passage in which elevation, cost, and a high number of moving parts are prized. Upon completion of the loft, they disappear as their attentions turn to the glories of the Internet and the endless pursuit of free software; after that, only rare glimpses of them are likely.
The Liberal Artist
Hunted to near extinction in the 1980s, the mysterious liberal arts major is slowly beginning to reappear on campus. With demeanors ranging from skittish to downright bold and imposing, liberal artists are easily spotted by their bright plumage, unpredictable grooming habits, and costly sandals. Always involved in a wide variety of activities and causes, liberal arts majors still are rarely found traveling south of Euclid Avenue, where, despite stiff penalties, they are occasionally shot at.
The Woman
By far one of the most interesting creatures on campus, the woman is also extremely rare. They are most easily found by looking for the large flock of more common animals that inevitably surround them in curiosity and awe. While relatively little is known about their origin, it seems clear that they maintain the highest position on campus and control the actions of the lower creatures. It is also relatively clear that they know this.
The High School Stud
This breed of freshman is amusing, really. Deeply believing that people will be impressed he won four bowling letters at Parma High, his high school tales are probably as fictitious as they are endless.
