Put this in the “odds and ends” column: The name of the band is Sorority Noise. The song is “Wesleyan’s Best Dressed.”
And yes, you should absolutely listen to it. No, they’re not a Wesleyan student group, but a punk band that went to the University of Hartford; they released an album called Forgettable on Bandcamp this past May. The song itself is actually hella catchy, a fuzzy-guitar-based tune (check the rocking solo near the end) with eager drums and lo-fi vocals, and it should be dropping officially on Bad Timing Records on November 4th as part of a split EP with Boston band Somos, as per Stereogum. That website also says the song “sounds a lot like the buttoned-up, anxious students that might attend the titular university.”
I reached out to Sorority Noise’s guitarist/vocalist Cameron Boucher for a quick explanation about the origins of the band and what inspired “Wesleyan’s Best Dressed.”
As a freshman navigating his first year in college, this fall has become for me a race to assimilate into Wesleyan’s culture as quickly as possible. For some of us more than others, being at Wesleyan is a sometimes overwhelming culture shock. Speaking to many of my fellow classmates, there was a common thread in the desire—and frustration—to feel completely at home and comfortable in the Wesleyan community.
We want to know: Is there a place to wittily interact with the Wesleyan community and share all the tiny facets of campus life that make Wesleyan such a unique school? A safe haven to express yourself without fear that The Man will take you down? A medium to disparage the administration in a humorous, crude and borderline offensive way? A place that isn’t the WesACB? Tyler Droll and Brooks Buffington, two graduates from Furman University in South Carolina, answered our prayers. Enter Yik Yak.
False icon courtesy of Maya McDonnell ’16.
The black sheep of Exley Science Center has a new t-shirt logo, and its vaguely uterine appearance has once and for all marked Pi Cafe as the depraved den of iniquity we all suspected it was. While the abstract illustration supports multiple interpretations, only a fool could miss the undeniably sapphic message conveyed by its devious design. “Purity?” “Flavor??” Surely these presumptuous claims are the work of Satan, as all women other than the blessed virgin and my mom are born in sin. Which brings us once again to the question plaguing our generation: what are they teaching our kids in these schools? Will the Academy’s liberal mystifications never cease??
Befuddled patrons of the cafe weigh in after the jump. Only time will tell whether Pi’s insidious efforts to convert Middletown’s youth to its misandrist agenda will prove successful.
Yesterday a new fish friend, Maurice Pacman Lee, moved into our apartment. The UCAB event, Fish are Friends Not Food, outfitted a few hundred students with gold fish complete with plastic tanks, plants and multicolored gravel. Unfortunately I have heard multiple stories of fish already reaching the end of their short lives. I felt pretty sad standing in line for the fish, knowing so many of them would be shortly flushed down the toilet, bright plastic tanks thrown into the trash. Still, these goldfish would surely reach the same fate no matter who took them home and the event was a fun way to outfit students with a fun, dare I say, decoration for their rooms. What will people do when they run out of the tiny bag of fish food we were provided? Can goldfish really eat spinach like the internet says?
Tell us about your fish in the comments below. What did you name it? Did ze survive the night? How do you feel about this event?
Mysterious fliers advertising the return of what initially appears to be the Delta Mu Tau Greek organization have appeared in Usdan, but closer inspection reveals that no such sorority or fraternity exists. One possible explanation of the acronym is that DMT, a psychedelic drug first synthesized in Canada of all places, is on campus and available for purchase. While details remain unconfirmed, this blogger can assure you the fliers bear the mark of Satan. Questions to explore going forward include:
- Have meddlesome reefer youths soiled the hallowed halls of Old Meth with their witch potions and demon rum?
- Is Delta Mu merely a ploy by the Inter-Greek Council of warlocks and Satan-worshippers to maintain their reign of terror?
- Why post in Usdan? Who even goes there anymore?
- Where can I get a connect?
Updates to follow.
Hey! You! Over there, with the brand new Wesleyan University 2018 shirt on… You don’t have to sound like a freshman just because you are one…
Bad news: you’re gonna have to relearn the names of the buildings you spent the summer memorizing off the campus map.
Good news: Wesleying is here to help. We present to you: a comprehensive guide to faking it.
Almost every building on campus has acquired some kind of nickname over the past 100-and-something years that Wesleyan students have spent on the hallowed grounds of Middletown, CT. There are the chop-and-shorten nicknames, the Wes-suffix-words, a few almost-funny-jokes, and one very famous ass-pun… We’ve outlined (almost) all of them to help alleviate the gripping terror and confusion of your first few weeks at college.
As I contemplate my impending graduation in a matter of hours, I find myself wondering what Wes will be in the next semester and beyond. What should Wes be?
Wesleyan is not a perfect place, and only our Admissions brochures pretend that that’s the case. We’ve got problems, big problems. We’ve got deep, meaty, institutional problems. We’ve got acrid, calcifying, traditional problems. We’ve got murky, messy, cultural problems. For the moment I’ll let you define precisely what those are–the point is, Wes is not a perfect place. We all spend days here unhappy, frustrated, hurt. And by and large, we try to change that.
That’s a long, lonely road, but a good one.
Sometimes, you just need a good cry.* If your finals or impending graduation aren’t doing it for you (or, in my case, my delayed flight and consequent 5 hour day trip to Bradley yesterday…. thanks, Chicago), here is a collection of things to get your tear ducts working.
Finals are dumb. You know what isn’t? SPACE.
Thinking about the cosmos, the origins of life, and everything in between is the perfect way to procrastinate because you end up feeling smart and profound while what you’re actually doing is yelling, “duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuude…” at the top of your lungs in Olin.
So, as we set off, watch this:
Still too hungover from Spring Fling to start that research paper that’s been lurking in the back of your mind all semester? Starting to lose your mind in pursuit of the elusive 2048 doge? Take some time to relax with this soothing yet mesmerizing game, Little Alchemy.
The premise of the game is simple: start with the four basic elements – earth, air, fire, and water – and combine them to eventually create all 460 possible elements. Just start clicking around, and pretty soon your brain will gear into the weird logic of this game. Drugs may help with this. “Yoda” is one of the possible elements. Click past the jump for screenshots from the depth of my obsession back in the fall of 2012, to inspire you to keep pushing on get that perfect 460. I will admit, it got a little crazy.