I went to Gaieties Thursday night.
Gaieties is one of those Stanford tradition things. Every year before the “big” football game against Berkeley, Stanford puts on a musical whose purposes are basically self-congratulation and reassuring everybody we are better than Berkeley.
Frankly, I wish the intense effort put into that was put into reassuing us about something I was more worried about.
Berkeley? Who gives a fuck about Berkeley? I know I’ve never lost any sleep worrying about Berkeley. I would rather be reassured through bad comedy and dance routines that we are much, much better than Harvard or M.I.T., or that I’ll be able to get a job after I graduate, or that there’s actually hundreds, maybe even thousands of eligible bachelorettes on campus who wear cute glasses and watch cartoons and want to go out with me.
Anyway, there was gum under my seat that ended up on my jeans.
I hate that.
That’s pretty much all you need to know about the entire Gaieties experience right there. It’s exactly the obnoxious, juvenile, pointless pep-rally styled display of “school spirit” you would expect and that I predictably find so very, very unmoving and annoying, followed by the band playing the same things they always play, badly.
I had to add in that part since the jump from gum-on-seat to fucking-annoying-as-all-hell-juvenile-bullshit probably only exists as a one hop jump in my mind.
I did like this one scene in a library where throughout some long annoying series of dialogue that was probably important to the plot people were just having sex in the background. (Well, not actually having sex, you know, acting. I mean, this isn’t fucking Berkeley.)
But I think that’s because I’m easily amused by anything that involves sex in a library.
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