Bogus Togas

To the Editors of The Crimson:

While crossing the Yard one night during freshmen orientation week, I heard rhythmic chanting emanating from a group of freshmen across the Yard. Because of the breeze and the distance between us, I could not discern the words and yet something about that melody of monotones and its degenerate animalistic qualities struck a responsive chord deep within me. Where had I heard this droning before? The beastly grunts and yells had a tribal sound like that of a rain dance or perhaps a war dance. The blood in my veins got hot. Did evolution inscribe this primitive melody and rhythym in my mind for some purpose of natural selection? Could it be possible that this responsive chord that I felt when I heard the degenerate chanting lay at the subconscious level or even at the genetic level? Slowly I was being drawn across the yard toward the source of the chanting. At thirty yards I still could not discern the words. As I approached, the band of freshmen seemed to open up so that I could enter the tribal circle. As I penetrated the circle I saw six or seven leaders dressed in sheets jumping up and down in a frenzy, screaming in timely unison. "Toga! Toga! Toga!" in between guzzles of beer.

I was crushed. My responsive chord, as I have termed it was merely a fuzzy recollection of the movie "Animal House," and these freshmen, these chosen few, the best and the brightest the country has to offer, seemed quite impressed with this Hollywood portrayal of college life. In fact, most of these guys were so well nurtured on T V that they idolized, and even impersonated, many of the celluloid heroes. Starsky and Hutch and, of course. Clint Eastwood seem to be quite popular with the class of '82. But don't jump to conclusions. Not all the freshmen emulate these macho studs. No, it's a well diversified and varied class. Many of them emulate comedians. In one hour I met six "wild and crazy guys" doing Steve Martin imitations, and another guy who introduced himself as "Hawkeye," a M*A*S*H* fiend, no doubt. I guess the most pitiful display of this T V -oriented class occurred when a big, burly, freshman football player did his impression of the "Incredible Hulk."

Perhaps the gut feeling of degeneracy or de-evolutionary decadence that I described as a responsive chord to the chanting is a harbinger of what's to come. After all, we only need look at the past, at the Romans who clad themselves in togas and indulged in orgies and drink and subsequently lost their structure, their discipline, their empire, and most importantly their culture as we are losing ours to the tube. We are now experiencing the emergence of punk rock which is nothing more than powerfully amplified chants, moronic mindless chants. One punk group calls itself the "De-Evolutionary Band." Will close inspection of that perfect microcosm, Harvard Yard, reveal a regression of Man? Will students' minds grow shallow and their bodies soft from addiction to the tube? Will not the pillars of Cambridge crumble in the presence of punk, or will they prove stronger than those of Rome? T. Apollo Whitbread '80