Fraternal Return and Internal Return

Nietzsche argued for the idea of "eternal return," a notion that seeks to reconcile the infinity of time with the finiteness of the universe. The mustachioed German philosopher held that time is not linear, but cyclical. Think of the movie "Groundhog Day," where Bill Murray relives the same day over and over again.

It is Alumni Weekend here at W&L, which means it is time to witness the yearly phenomenon I feel should rightfully be called "fraternal return," which consists in what I feel is appropriately called "internal return."

My fraternity, Lambda Chi Alpha, kicked off the weekend with a cocktail party in honor of returning alumni yesterday from 5-7 PM. While current brothers mingled a little bit with those who graduated in the last five years or so, those who graduated in the 80s and 70s (and a few from the 60s, even) hung around together.

While I would like to have seen more cross-generation reaching-out, it became apparent that that is not the primary goal of coming back to the fraternity house after five, 10, 20, 35, 45 years in the big scary outside world. Rather, those who come back and hang out around the house for much of the weekend do so in order to recover memories of their times here.

With them laughing loudly and drinking and eating heartily, one might have mistakenly regarded the reverie of some as strange and perhaps a bit immature, but I disagree. As men of 40 years or more told some of us stories about how someone fell out of the third floor bathroom window or about how there used to be a beer machine disguised as a soda machine on the second floor, they did so with wild eyes that nearly had us thinking these events took place last week, rather than before some of us were born. It is strange--nearly magical--how this house brings the age of the spirits of all who live here now and have lived here in the past together.

Thus, coming back to the fraternity house after years away is not just coming back to a place but to a bygone time. The internal part of this return comes in the form of the brief brightening of the spirits to college-age vitality. Noticing the generations this house has touched and helped to mold makes me appreciate it all the more. I hope to make the most of my time here, knowing that as soon as I exit its safety for the next stage in life, part of me will be wishing I was back, anxious to return.

Television Poisoning, Part II

The second critical element of television poisoning, of course, is the abject putrescence of nearly all commercials, which often make me feel like a banana in the desert. Take for example:

- A recent Toyota commercial that boldly and inexplicably commits one of the deadly sins of grammar (at least in my eyes): pluralization with an apostrophe. Mind-bogglingly, NO ONE involved in the making of this commercial was able to prevent it from selling "Corolla's," "Venza's," and "Tundra's." I will never buy a Toyota.

- The incessant "Five Dollar Footlong" campaign that Subway has made a part of every single ad it has run, with increasing ridiculousness. I never thought I'd wish to see the Jared Fogel before/after comparison pictures again.

- Bob's Discount Furniture commercials are legendary for their mind-meltingly low-brow commercials. See for yourself...Bob-o-Pedic commercial.

These examples comprise but a drop in the vast toxic slurry that is television advertisement. It is just another step in the full-scale social acceptance of the lowest common denominator.