For sure, hazing is a sensitive topic to tackle, and I think a lot of people have strong feelings concerning this issue. That said, like most deathly serious topics, there is a top notch hi-larious lighter side to hazing that many of us allow to go unrecognized, just because people think hazing is all serious business. Similar to how “Hogan’s Hero’s” taught us how zany and wacky a German POW camp can be, I intend to do the same for hazing. There are two essential participants in hazing rituals, he who hazes and he who is hazed. First, I’m going to break down some of the key elements a “hazer” needs to create a fun hazing environment for all involved. The first thing that you need to know about hazing is that the golden rule always applies: treat others as you wish to be treated. Ask yourself, “Could I really consume all that raw MSG by myself?” If the answer is yes, then proceed as planned. If the answer is no, then call up Golden Chopsticks and see how much they put in the General Tso’s Chicken, as three combo plates is rumored to be enough to kill Shaq. While we’re on the subject of Shaq, when in doubt, you can resort to what I call “the Shaq rule.” Sure, big number 34 hazes his opponents when he dunks over them on the courts, but the real burns come when he’s throwing down – throwing down rhymes that is! For example, on his debut album Shaq spews, “I got the hand that’ll rock your cradle/ cream you like cheese, spread you on my bagel.” Now if that isn’t some quality hazing I don’t know what is. The mantra of “sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me” is always in effect. I think what I’ve been trying to say for the last paragraph or so is that the greatest hazer of them all is Ludacris. As much fun as this is, I’ve found that being hazed can be just – if not twice – as fun. Andres Bobadilla ’06 for one says, “Yo, I gets hazed by the ladies alls the time if you know what I mean.” I think on a deeper philosophical level no one can truly say they ever know what Andres means, and this case is no exception. Andres aside, lets pretend that you are engaged in a heated battle of “Hungry, Hungry, Hippos” with an upperclassman and he says “the loser of this game must eat the traditional three Muffalata sandwiches of shame. Of course, that upperclassman is an excellent Hungry Hungry Hippos player, and you end up eating the sandwiches. What you find, as I found at lunch earlier this week is that the Muffalata sandwiches actually aren’t all that bad. So that actually works out pretty nicely for everyone. I’m going to maybe try the baked scrod next week. So you see, whether it be eating sandwiches with made-up names, or dropping “ill rhymes,” hazing is simply what you make of it. So, now that that’s out of the way, which member of the class of ‘08 dares challenge me to an exhilarating game of Hungry Hungry Hippos? That’s what I thought.
