Tonight was Orgo Night, that (rare) cherished Columbia tradition, in which The Cleverest Band in the World occupies Butler 209 and strives to “lower the curve on the orgo exam” by telling raunchy jokes with topical music interspersed. Likely due to a number of recent events, 209 was buzzing by 11:10 p.m. By 11:20 Public Safety had arrived, and by 11:30, all library taboos were out the window! Burly Public Safety officers acted as bouncers, keeping disappointed students penned in the hallway.

As one freshman girl noted, “Orgo Night is harder to get in than Campo!”

At 12:00 a.m. sharp, CUMB entered that hallowed hall and proceeded to entertain.

CUMB teased the crowed early with a Vincenzo/drug bust joke, but then backed off and went for the Social Experiment. The band made classic riffs on paying Columbia students to talk to people, and referenced the Crimson article which belittled it. Harvard students, the band explained, had their fathers to buy them friends.

After playing “Tainted Love,” the band cheered the recent sorority recognition, noting that “one fourth of Barnard women are in sororities. In an unrelated Spectator article, one fourth of Barnard women have herpes,” to very mixed reactions. The band rejoiced in the sororities since Barnard had apparently lacked a place for women to join together in sisterhood, at least until the recent mandatory meal plan, because friends who “binge together, purge together.” Again, mixed reactions.

At the end of “Stacy’s Mom,” CUMB moved on to Assange. The “secrets” released by Wikileaks are really no big deal, the band believes. “Saudi Arabia supporting terrorism? Afghanistan being a shitshow? Those things are about as secretive as a SEAS kid’s porn addiction.” Next they stopped by the email from SIPA, and mused why art majors didn’t get such an email. After a few more Barnard jokes, they played “Toxic.”

Next our marching band advised the crowd on TSA travel tips. If you’re a SEAS student and get patted down, refrain from ejaculating—CUMB knows that to you “a foreign touch is your left hand.” But it’s no big deal, the band comforts, because being groped by high school dropouts is just like a Well Woman center. “Sweet Dreams” came next.

Gender-neutral housing was praised. The band wondered, why are these conservative pundits complaining we’ll live in sin on our parents’ dime?  “Haven’t they been to college?” And it’s great for another reason: “Barnard students can spend the night with a guy and see him again.”

Finally, what the crowd had been waiting for: Epstein. A concerned citizen called CrimeStoppers because he heard exuberant cries of “Who’s your daddy?” from Epstein’s office. The crowd laughed, cried, groaned. The affair began, CUMB confided, when at the breakfast table Epstein asked, “You come here often?” After being arrested in what the police called “Operation Poppa Cherry,” Epstein is on indefinite leave, probably to spend “less time with his family.” The band regaled the lovers with “Sweet Child of Mine.”

And in a grand finale, the band broke with word of the 5 Loko (groan). The band noted that frat boys often use drugs to get ahold of busts—but that the NYPD was doing it wrong using busts to get ahold of drugs. Then again, the dealers are party to blame. After all, when a GS student wants to “score some reefer, brah,” it is probably best to decline.  The NYPD was unfair in naming it “Operation Ivy League,” they bemoaned—if NYPD arrested NYU students would it be called “Operation Safety School”? The band thanked their stars for the procrastination tool Bwog comments provided and congratulated campus news sources on their good work, but “not you Spectrum, nobody fucking cares.”

Sadly, this was where the show ended. CUMB advised the crowd to “try not to damage the shelves” on the way out, and everybody left feeling like we have a community here after all.

Photos by AB and CDS