Don't get me wrong. This weekend, I had as much fun as you. The alumni looked successful, if unhappy, and the laser light show on the Green was uplifting, to say the least.
But amidst all the hoopla, a discouraging fact slipped beneath our collective radar: the football team lost, again. In triple overtime, again. To Yale, who we always knew was better than us anyway.
When the Penn football team loses like this, after winning twelve championships in seven years, it's clear some sort of doomsday has arrived. We're 2-4. We lost to Dartmouth. And that was after losing to Lafayette, which many of us didn't even know was a school.
There's only one way to explain such catastrophe: Armageddon. Judgment Day. You know. We know. Ben Affleck knows. It's here.
Take climate change, for example. While the rainstorm Friday night cleared the skies out for a crisp Celebration on the Green, the residue of our endless summer is still lingering, palpable in the air. Yes, the past six-plus months of sun have been great for croquet, but I've had trouble sleeping. Visions of Kevin Costner drinking his own urine keep running through my head.
In the New York Times Magazine, we read about the Colorado River drying up. And on other fronts, the news is even worse. President Bush, as noted here last week, is calling down World War III in the event that Iran acquires a nuclear weapon. Light sweet crude is selling for nearly $90 a barrel, and according to one new study, we have already passed peak oil. The stock market is shaky. Congressional approval ratings hover at 11%. California is on fire. And monks are being massacred in Myanmar.
Amy, I know we're making history together, but exactly what sort of history are we making? Maybe it's just me, but a hint of the last days did seem to be floating around our own little version of "homecoming" Saturday night. Alumni drank themselves silly before going back to the 18-hour workday. Freshmen ran around belligerent like they didn't know what hit them. And Michael the Archangel himself worked the door at Smoke's, checking IDs and hitting on girls, telling people that hell is fun but costs two dollars to get inside.
Still, you gotta get drunk sometime, and in the midst of all this fire and brimstone, the open bar on the Green was an upper I didn't know I needed. The free beer was appreciated, and those dim sum dumplings next to the tamales table were delish. Besides, it's nice to know that whatever shit is raining elsewhere on God's air-conditioned Earth, we're about to rake in a cool $3.5 billion to do with as we please.
Because really, who are we kidding? The Apocalypse isn't coming. Don't get suckered in. We're in the middle of a Capital Campaign. Al Gore is winning Nobel Prizes like they were party favors. Sweden is chillin'. We're getting degrees. And people are riding bikes.
Apocalyse? You must be joking. The football team will get better. They have to. With all that sunshine, they'll have more of the year to prepare.
