Self-proclaimed Orgo Night Veteran and Chief Ref Room Correspondent Sameea Butt meditates on the highs and lows of everyone’s favorite library musical comedy show.

Something has become obvious to this Bwogger and five-time attendee of Orgo Night about the crowds that pack Butler 209 on a semesterly basis. Despite the speakers’ more than capable enunciation abilities and perfectly competant sets of lungs, either no one can actually hear things the band is saying, or they just don’t get it.

A highly informal survey of our peers’ facial reactions to some of the Band’s jokes divides the attendees into a few archetypes (turns out they don’t just exist in the Reference Room):

Orgoer Archetype 1: The guy who’s laughing along a little too hard with everyone else about Herman Cain, and even harder at the obvious jokes. Yeah, Newt Gingrich and Susan Boyle may just have been separated at birth. Wipe those fake tears and chill, son.

Orgoer Archetype 2: The person who has no qualms about admitting they don’t understand what they’ve heard. You’ll see them shrug, furrow their brows or turn to their neighbors every now and then, whispering: “Dude, I don’t get it”. Their neighbor whispers back and they fake a smile. “Oh, righttt..”

Of course, this isn’t their fault, either. Maybe by the beginning of the second round of jokes in a room filled with the stale smell of intellectual sweat compacted by at least 50 times the normal occupancy, you just need something to distract you from the fact that you’re on the verge of teetering off the table you’re standing on into a sea of equally sweaty comrades.

The Band might seriously consider their idea of a “mic check” though, joked about during the performance:

“Now, a lot of people have complained that we don’t use microphones at Orgo Night. And you know what? They’re right. So we’ve decided to bring special amplification to you RIGHT NOW. Let’s give it a try. Mic check! (Mic check!) Mic check! (Mic check!) Is this thing on? (Is this thing on?) We’re really poor! (We’re really poor!) You’re really rich! (You’re really rich!) Fuck you guys! (Fuck you guys!) Penis! (Penis!)

OK, enough of that shit. (OK, enough of that shit.) That’s really fucking annoying. (That’s really fucking annoying.) Seriously! (Seriously!) Stop! (Stop!) I have a tiny dick!”

Clearly, I’m not alone in thinking that a fair amount gets lost in translation. Perhaps standing on that bookshelf makes you too distracted to focus on anything more than a select word here or there from the show. This actually seems plausible if you go over the script, which seems less offensive than the gasps and head-shaking would have you think. Speaking of which…

Enter Orgoer Archetype 3: The shocked disapprover. You’ll catch these guys (and gals) shaking their heads and muttering “too much, too much”, at every mention of an ethnicity or accent. Sometimes this will happen with good reason, even when the band is not being racist. A prime example: the Band’s jokes about Dean Pena-Mora’s ostracism from the faculty. Nobody seemed to get that the band was mocking the faculty until they heard “A bunch of old white PhDs” and “fucking racists,” which is when the partial stunned silence and awkward grimaces transformed into roars of approval.

Well, approval from everyone except Orgoer Archetype 4: People whose vacant stares at the ceilings betray their ambivalence to Orgo Night and school spirit generally, making you wonder probably as much as them why they bothered showing up in the first place. You endlessly wish they had followed their instincts and stayed clear of the event, giving you and your pungent peers a little breathing space.

Back to the show itself, it should come as no surprise that the best part of the evening came from the band’s mocking their own recent run-in with the administration, in which they were banned, and subsequently un-banned, from the final football game of the season.

“Of course, we immediately apologized, admitting that we’d totally crossed the line. Buuuutt… maybe if the team had crossed the line more often during the season, the Band wouldn’t have been singing those songs in the first place.”

Zing! And, putting it pretty eloquently:

“The marching band cannot play football. Instead of nine consecutive losses, we would have racked up…ten consecutive losses.”

Orgo Night indulges our need for a little cheer and made an attempt to rebuild our self-esteem that finals week has left in tatters. That’s why everyone will cheer in response to snarky digs at their Barnard peers and all snappy criticism of Occupy Wall Street will be forgiven. They’ll collectively shake our heads at the Band’s jokes about pedophilia and then laugh and roar in approval as they shout: “UPenn works hard to provide a safe environment for kids. In fact, it’s the safetiest school around.”

Even if we don’t get what they’re saying, or if we find their jokes distasteful, 209 will always be packed to the brim the night before the Orgo exam. It’s not even really so much about the band as it is about forgetting about finals and protecting the tradition in every way: screaming out the Fight Song in the beginning, rolling your eyes at the little overzealous freshmen’s obvious enthusiasm, and tricking yourself into believing you’re witnessing some signs of community in this otherwise tired school. And, perhaps most importantly, as one shocked but nonetheless pleased junior first-timer said upon sighting a flask in 209, “seeing that Columbia school spirit actually exists.”

Last night, Butler 209 played host to Orgo Night, one of Columbia’s time-honored traditions and the reason many upperclassmen choose to move off campus. Bwog will have a full review later today, but for now, check out some pictures of the festivities and peruse the script.

Pics courtesy of Roko Rumora, Dylan Lonergan, Raphaelle Debenedetti, and Peter Sterne

The Full Fall 2011 Orgo Night Script:

[Roar]

Tyler: Ladies and gentlemen, and organic chemistry students, back despite mugging people on 114th street, it’s the boxcutting-est band in the world, the Columbia University Marching give me your iPhone motherfucker!

[Fanfare]

Bree: Featuring:

J. Stephenie Meyer: Breaking Dawn

J. European Union: breaking down, and

J. Justin Bieber: breaking hymens.

[Fanfare]

Tyler: Welcomes itself back to spirited, saccharine, strangely antiseptic, sedulous, sententious, sesquipedalian, semicircular, semi-centennial, solipsistic, recently fumigated, (yet still in need of fumigation!) College Library, where the shelves are long-lasting, but sadly not the men, and the women are checked out but long overdue. As well as human trafficking on Columbia’s campus going up, Public Affairs students…going down, and your professor’s heavy breathing at an all-time still not sexy, the Band now presents its 54th consecutive, 69th semi-annual drive to lower the curve in Organic Chemistry while consummating the world’s largest simultaneous Orgo! And so, in the interest of everyone’s enjoyment:

SEAS students, please turn off your electronic devices.

Bree: GS students, please turn up your hearing aids.

Tyler: CC kids, please set your phones to vibrate;

Bree: and Barnard girls, please set your vibrators to phone. Let’s start the show!

[Who Owns]

Tyler: Now, a lot of people have complained that we don’t use microphones at Orgo Night. And you know what? They’re right. So we’ve decided to bring special amplification to you RIGHT NOW. Let’s give it a try. Mic check! (Mic check!) Mic check! (Mic check!) Is this thing on? (Is this thing on?) We’re really poor! (We’re really poor!) You’re really rich! (You’re really rich!) Fuck you guys! (Fuck you guys!) Penis! (Penis!)

OK, enough of that shit. (OK, enough of that shit.) That’s really fucking annoying. (That’s really fucking annoying.) Seriously! (Seriously!) Stop! (Stop!) I have a tiny dick! (silence)

The news coverage of Occupy Wall Street has dwindled so much in recent weeks that it seems like those grizzled urban lumberjacks have packed up and headed home, leaving behind nothing but vintage skinny jeans, crumpled cans of PBR, and ironically placed copies of the new Real Estate album.

Which is too bad…the Band really sympathized with the Occupy Wall Streeters on several issues. We too are frustrated with our nation’s leaders. We too have been evicted from certain public arenas for just expressing ourselves. We too hate the 1%, skimming the cream off the top and milking the system. And if you think that last one is just a lead-in to a bad dairy joke…you’re right. What do Occupy Wall Street and eggs have in common? They both get beaten and peppered!

Police skullfucking aside, Columbia has really taken to the Occupy movement, which is not surprising, since Occupy Wall Street is about as poorly thought-out as Frontiers of Science. Inspired by the actions of the 99%, some CU students have started their own Occupy Columbia movement, fighting for their ideals with one of history’s most effective protest strategies: drum circles. Because we all know how well that worked out for the Native Americans. We in the Band are much more sympathetic to the Occupy Barnard movement, which has taken up such fine causes as OccupyTheKitchen, OccupyMyBedroom, and OccupyMakeMeASandwich, Bitch.

In honor of fighting for worthy causes, the Band now forms a pastrami on rye and a blowjob and plays “More Than a Kneeling.”

[More Than a Feeling]

Bree: In case you hadn’t noticed, this country’s due for another one of those election doodads, and we all know what that means: educated discourse about the state of the nation. Ha! We have fun. No, don’t worry, America, this election will be just as the Founding Fathers intended–a knock-down, drag-out, balls-to-the-wall affair full of terrorist fist jabs, Photoshopped pictures of Adolf Obama, and more steamy scandals than you can shake James Madison’s tiny dick at.

Speaking of dicks, Herman Cain still hasn’t acknowledged that maybe whipping out his shlong wasn’t the best form of employee appreciation! He suspended his campaign after being buried under a pile of sexual harassment allegations, which is nowhere near as exciting as it sounds. We have no idea what Cain did to these ladies accusing him…we can only assume that the former Godfather’s CEO was knocking on their doors asking if they wanted to try his “big sausage pizza.” Still, we understand why voters are upset with Cain: in the GOP, you can be a hypocrite, a sex fiend, and sometimes even black, but not all three at the same time.

That’s why Republican voters have thrown their support behind Newt Gingrich, who cheated on his cancer-stricken wife and said she wasn’t, quote, “young or pretty enough to be the wife of a President.” Apparently she was pretty enough to be the wife of a man named Newt–an oversized garden gnome whose face resembles the offspring of Susan Boyle and a half-melted candle. Mr. Gingrich is of course known for being the “intellectual” candidate, which in the Republican Party means he can go poopy in the big boy potty. This runs the risk of alienating members of the smart-o-phobic Republican base–polls have shown that far-right voters prefer a candidate who’s just one of the guys…they can get a beer together, talk about the local sports teams, and eventually have plausibly deniable gay sex on a heap of Bibles.

In honor of the American electoral process, the Band now forms two Republican senators at a glory hole and plays Grand Old Party Rock Anthem.

[Party Rock Anthem]

Tyler: Recently it seems that America is in the midst of a MANcession. Yep, those women, with their fancy “bachelor’s degrees,” “master’s degrees,” “PhDs” and IUDs managed to steal jobs from hardworking men like this guy right here. It looks like the feminist crusade has finally made sexism obsolete. Radical C.U.N.T.S, eat your hearts out. Then eat each other out. Then eat your hearts out again.

But men shouldn’t be taking their stay-at-home-dad roles lying down! In these changing times, those afflicted with external genitalia and a pesky Y chromosome will be forced to learn new skills, like how to change a diaper or suppress their gag reflex. Of course, there’s only one place that can teach such expertise: Barnard College. Incoming Barnard men will quickly be enrolled in classes such as Why Foreplay Matters, She’s Always Faking It, and Maybe You Should Just Cuddle. Bill Clinton, recently domesticated by his husband Hillary, will give a guest lecture at Conbrocation entitled, “My Balls: Learning to Live Without”. A special all-guys theatre troupe will stage the first male rendition of “The Vagina Monologues”. “My vagina is an outie, long and thick. My vagina is a source of life, a petrified sequoia in a mysterious cave. And sometimes when I rub it, it lactates.” When those brave Barnard men head out into the world to become part-time elementary school substitutes and secretaries, they’ll always be able to look back on their emasculating days at Alma Pater. So move over, Barnard women. Some new classmates will soon be entering your Vag.

In honor of getting in touch with your feminine side, the Band now forms an extra-large pair of jeggings and plays Last Friday Night.

[Last Friday Night]

Bree: It’s been a rough year to be a Columbia administrator. First, Provost Claude M. Steele packed up his porn name and headed for the bright lights of California, and then Michele Moody-Adams journeyed to the center of earth to stabilize the Core and was never heard from again. The latest campus figure to find himself in hot water is SEAS Dean Feniosky Pena-Mora, who was told in no uncertain terms by engineering professors that he doesn’t “fit in with the culture of Columbia.” The implication being, of course, that he would TOTALLY fit in with the culture of ColOMbia.

Some at the University criticized the overtly racial angle taken by the New York Times in its coverage of the scandal. However, the faculty letter published in various media outlets isn’t actually the one that crossed President Bollinger’s desk. Newspapers drastically edited the epistle so as not to offend delicate sensibilities, but luckily the Band has a copy of the REAL letter, uncut and uncensored.

(unfold letter)

“Dear Provost Coatsworth,

We are writing to inform you of a massive communication barrier between the engineering faculty and Dean Pena-Mora. Basically, he has a weird fucking accent and we can’t understand a word he says. How can you expect him to turn out good engineers when he can’t even pronounce “en-hin-eer?” We’re all outsies if you don’t take him back to Home Depot right the fuck now.

Sincerely yours,

A bunch of old white PhDs.”

It’s clear to us that to create a good dialogue, the SEAS faculty just needs a little language instruction. That’s why the Dean is collaborating with PBS to bring you a new educational program: “Pena-Mora the Explorer!” He’ll teach SEAS profesoras the basics of Spanish while trying to avoid his own terminacion! Can you kids say “terminacion?” (delay) Muy bien! But he’ll have to watch out for sly fox Vice Dean Goldfarb, who managed to swipe all his professional responsibilities. Hopefully Pena-Mora the Explorer develops enough “communication skills” to finally call the engineering faculty what they are—fucking racists ;-).

In honor of navigating stormy SEAS, the band now forms the beleaguered Dean and plays Carry On, Wayward Dominican.

[Carry On, Wayward Son]

Tyler: This semester, a lot of people were quick to call Columbia’s football program an embarrassment, which seems a little harsh. The Lions aren’t an embarrassment…they’re just not very good. Penn State’s football program…now there’s an embarrassment. Some pretty titillating reports have come out of Happy Valley in the last month. Apparently Plato Sandusky was holding nightly Symposia with JoePa-crates, doling out “wisdom” to little boys they’d showered in love, and loved in showers. In the purest of pure relationships, the boys swooned in the coaches’ wrinkly laps and professed their love either on a grassy field or one completely shaven.

After the Penn State student body was told why their beloved icon had been fired, by someone who could read, Sandusky appeared on television to refute the allegations against him. The former coach dismissed his shower room antics as simple “horseplay,” because that’s how horses get their kicks, by fucking children in the ass. “It was just good clean fun,” Sandusky said. “After all, boys will be boys…sweet, soft, succulent little boys.”

Another unfortunate side effect of the scandal is the flood of job-seeking University of Pennsylvania students who have to once again explain “No, I don’t go to THAT Penn!” And they have good reason to be upset. UPenn works hard to provide a safe environment for kids. In fact, it’s the safetiest school around.

In honor of state schools, the Band now forms a superiority complex and plays “Build Me Up, Buttercup!”

[Buttercup]

Bree: Marching bands, historically famous only for their enduring virginities, have never been the subjects of much media attention. That all changed just one month ago, when Columbia made national headlines for something other than inviting an evil dictator to campus. We were shocked to read that SOME punk-ass marching band, full of vim, vigor and bullshit, had the audacity, nay, the nerve, nay, THE BALLS to inform the football team of what it had been doing all season long: losing. And even worse, we did it with a lighthearted parody of our fight song, which was apparently the worst thing to happen to Columbia since Aaron Burr. When the coaching staff complained to the Athletics Department, the CUMB found itself suspended, and journalists across the country jizzed their collective pants at the opportunity to use the phrase “Band Banned.”

Of course, we immediately apologized, admitting that we’d totally crossed the line. Buuuutt… maybe if the team had crossed the line more often during the season, the Band wouldn’t have been singing those songs in the first place. Given all the serious injuries one can sustain playing football, we didn’t think hurt feelings would be one of them.

In the wake of the CUMB-gate scandal, many angry blog commenters had their say. They asked snarkily, “Why not have the band put on helmets and pads and see how well they do on the field?” A legitimate point. The marching band cannot play football. Instead of nine consecutive losses, we would have racked up…ten consecutive losses.

Lions Head Coach Norries Wilson was dismissed just over 12 hours after winning the final game of the season, reportedly fumbling his pink slip on the way out the door. Norries was replaced by NFL coach Pete Mangurian, who proudly declared at his introductory press conference that he wasn’t afraid to use the “W” word—Win. Of course, Norries wasn’t afraid to use the “W” word either… “WAAAHHH!”

In honor of newfound tabloid stardom, the band now forms the New York media machine and plays All Of The Lights.

[All of the Lights]

Bree: Well, that’s all for us tonight, folks. But before we go, we’d like to leave you with a few study hints for that big Orgo exam tomorrow:

Tyler: Backside displacement is characteristic of an SN2 reaction, whereas two people doing S&M often displace their backsides.

Bree: When a molecule loses an electron, it becomes electrically charged. When our drum major loses her clothes, the Band becomes sexually charged.

Tyler: Neutral organic compounds tend to be hydrophobic, meaning they are less soluble in water than in organic solvents. Right-wing organic compounds tend to be homophobic, meaning Rick Perry will never be president.

Bree: And finally, latex condoms are elastic hydrocarbon polymers. That information will never be relevant to an organic chemistry student.

Tyler: Thanks and good night folks! Try not to break any bookcases on your way out!

The repast will be served at LeFrak Gymnasium, and in the order that Barnard likes you; Barnard first-years can eat at 11 p.m., all other Barnard students can eat at 11:30 pm, and the rest of the CU community can scrounge the remaining Ape Tit at midnight. À Bientôt!

Tall Things via Wikimedia Commons

Unorthodox: An actually pretty funny promotional video from the band.

Unexpected: As an extra credit project for his orgo class, Professor Campos called for original music videos. Here’s our favorite. (Click CC to turn on the captions)

Chief Ref Room Correspondent Sameea Butt forayed a floor below her usual spot to recap yesterday evening’s this morning’s Orgo Night. If you want to see video, you can check out one from a commenter or CUMB’s YouTube channel.

There was a little more excitement than expected in 209 last night, as the crowds sweated it out for the “53rd consecutive, 69th semi-annual drive to lower the curve in Organic Chemistry.” As usual, there were people piled atop desks and chairs, kids squeezed between anxious band groupies, dudes passing out CULPA fliers (do it, comrades!) and diligent students trying, also as per usual, to study through the ruckus. In what we naively hope was a rare display of school spirit, the eager audience burst into applause before the band even got there and started singing the Fight Song… yeah they were probably just jazzed about school ending.

A guy in a fedora led a slow clap to herald the band’s actual entrance. They proudly marched in playing the “Roar, Lion Roar,” with a few sporting sunglasses and one member carrying what this Bwogger heard described as “ohmygod an inflated penis!”

The speakers, Tyler Benedict, CC ’13, and Travis Alvarez, CC ’12, started the night off with a topic still fresh in students’ minds: the “bureaucratic error” that forced Bacchanal to move to the lawns.” Also, please step back from the fence. The show cannot continue unless you step back.” Someone from the crowd responded with a shout out to the co-president of Bachannal: “We love you Jody.” Shit happens, we forgive you too.

The crowd seemed largely to agree with the band’s assessment of Bacchanal this year: “saying ‘Snoop Dogg is coming to campus!’ is a lot more fun than him actually being here.” Although people were visibly annoyed by the comment, “Guess they [the barely-intelligible Das Racist] shouldn’t have booked the sound guys from the Varsity Show,” two band members shouted “Swag, swag!” The band then played “Push It,” “in honor of sticking your dizzle in a hot piece of pizzle and doing it all night lizzle”.

The second group to take a hit was CU Democrats for asking Public Safety for permission to protest at the “Swipe-In-Sit-In.” “Seriously? Did the Egyptians fill out a space request for Tahrir Square? Did the Freedom Riders stop singing ‘We shall overcome’ because it was quiet hours? Did Gandhi obtain consent before beating his wife?”

“Yikes,” you say? Keep reading, there’s plenty more where that came from (Seriously, where did that come from? Have you, too, ever wondered who writes the script?)

That last one did not go down without some booing; however, even stronger were the jeers from the crowd after just mentioning the CU Republicans. “Alright, this isn’t a tea party folks,” the announcer said, before moving on to announce that Orgo Night was a safe space for Republicans (“Yep, all ten of you!”), because “they are the best example of a minority group at Columbia.” To much approval from the audience, the band played “Any Way You Want It” in honor of the two-party system, “because, let’s face it, that’s really all Columbia’s social scene can handle”.

The Greek Games events were amply mocked: “Hoop rolling… Plato’s Pilates… Watermelon. What the fuck is Watermelon?” “It’s fucking delicious, that’s what it is!” came the response from a (strong, beautiful?) lady in the crowd. The speaker tried to come up with a response, but just ended up repeating her words to the crowd before commenting on the toga party: “If we’re lucky, we’ll have multiple V-shows this year”. Booing and jeering came aplenty with that, but more than laughter and applause? Obviously not. There weren’t enough people in the room to take offense to good ole Barnard jokes. To be fair, we don’t either. Nor do we take offense to the ugly CC girl, awkward SEAS guy and old GS student jokes. We do wonder, though, where our good CC gentlemen are in the script… what’s that? Oh, they’re writing it? Gotcha.

There was a semi annoyed shout of “that’s racist!” about NoCo succeeding Kent as “the most Asian—sorry, most studious building on campus,” but nowhere near as much disgust as at the crack about people going in to Joe’s to peer at the brownies—”and we don’t mean the Harlem residents.” The disapproving “ohhhh” from the crowd succeeded in eliciting an apology—”We didn’t realize it’d get that strong of a reaction, sorry guys”—from the speaker, who went on to express his concern that the new hottest study destination, Joe, would “sell out, just like Justin Bieber did.”

In one of the most memorable moments of the night, an audibly upset girl in the crowd swiftly responded: “NO!” “Puberty is like so mainstream now,” the announcer noted before the band played “Hips(ters) Don’t Lie”.

Then the band took a dig at the the AEPi brothers’ forced exodus from their brownstones. They must now “wander Low Plaza for 40 years in search for a new land of beer and honeys.” It would be for the best, the band mused, that the Palestinian Student Organization’s “refugee camp” guarded with “cardboard guns” wouldn’t be available to them because”those debauched frat bros would probably just turn the place into a Gaza Strip Club.”

The band even took a stab at the ROTC’s return to campus. Over a trombone womp womp a la Charlie Brown, the speaker shouted, “Transgender! Racism! Heckling a vet!” It was refreshing to see the band adopt this unique presentation style. The next number “honoring Columbia’s anti-discrimination policy,” saw the most enthusiastic response. The 90s babies in the crowds danced and warbled along to the Mulan classic “I’ll Make a Man Out of You.”

The last segment included the most anticipated joke on the tale of Hektor bin Laden finally being taken down by Barack Obamachilles. “Two hundred tortured prisoners, three thousand dead soldiers and one Nobel Peace Prize later,” he “drags his body round Ground Zero seven times and stuffs some rocks in his turban, covers him in bubble wrap and dumps him in the ocean. Exactly as the Prophet Muhammad intended.” This one probably received the most disapproving “ohhhh”s of the night. The band dedicated the next song,”Fuck You,” to Osama bin Laden, with “two towery fingers” raised in his direction. The dancing, singing, and warbling reached its apex with people sing-shouting along “WHY!”

The night wound down with a the usual jokes about organic chemistry, and the band exited playing the fight song, leaving the sweaty masses rushing to escape out of the humid room. There were a few comments from the crowd on song choice (“Fuck You is the worst pick for that segment. That song’s about unrequited love!”), and a sarcastic “real good comeback” at the delicious watermelon comment, but not a negative word beyond that as people headed back up to the third and fourth floors to finish studying for their finals.

All in all, Bwog has to agree with that assessment. Although some jokes were more offensive than usual, (ragging on Gandhi, fine. But “brownies” of Harlem? C’mon, guys) and we’d hoped for some newer songs, the CUMB made the very most of the material it had to work with this semester. And bonus points for the Disney song. Orgo Night was a rollicking good time.

Midnight breakfast is circus themed

Just because finals start tomorrow in earnest doesn’t mean you can’t have fun tonight!

At midnight in 209, CUMB hosts Orgo Night. There will be music, shouting, school spirit, and Barnard jokes.

Speaking of the ladies across Broadway, tonight is another Midnight Breakfast. There will be barrels of free food. Barnard seniors may start munching at 11 pm, the rest of Barnard can join in the festivities at 11:30 pm, and Columbians can begin gorging at 12 am.

Entertainment via Wikimedia

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

…grandmothers protest the war(s) (NYT)

…the MTA budget continues to suffer (Gothamist)

…CUNY is forced to limit the number of applications (City Room)

…and Spec has video of Orgo Night

The jokesters started off a little slow, and this slowness characterized much of the show, especially when compared to last semester’s performance, which was longer as well. The pair began making references to Deans and had a sly Varsity Show jab before moving on to cracking jokes about Bwog and Bwog commenters. These garnered laughs, but the main theme of the first act seemed to center around two controversial topics of the day: the Catholic priest molestation scandal and health care reform. The second topic’s story was based around Columbia enacting its own health care reform, and the audience seemed to receive this well. Again, there was your typical GS joke (Why is Health Services stopping coverage at age 26? “No one really cares about GS!”), but there were some better ones (CAVA will stop denying people due to pre-existing conditions, such as living in Carman).

As usual, the duo then continued lampooning current events. In this next segment, they managed to insult three major religions and joke about the crisis in Haiti, all while receiving the standard reaction of laughter-turned-groans from the audience. They then referenced Ahmadinejad’s recent return to the United States, asking why, if he hates America so much, he keeps visiting. This was craftily tied into a news topic of the day when it was announced that Ahmadinejad had just finished watching a Broadway play when he was shocked to discover his green 1998 Nissan Pathfinder was towed and Times Square cleared out. (To his credit, “bombs come standard” in Iran.)

Next, they talked about Columbia being ranked as the No. 2 most stressful college in the nation, to which 209 erupted with a prideful cheer. If you were waiting for the part where they mention other Ivies, here it was. They joked about how different Ivies cope with stress: “Brown has pass/fail; Princeton has racism”–all themes we’ve heard before. They finally reached Cornell, where the majority of their jokes involved puns such as “head over heels” or “hitting rock-bottom,” clearly referencing the recent tragedies at the university. The audience seemed to agree that this came a little too soon, only mildly chuckling at these puns. And to the band’s credit, perhaps they were showing some sensitivity, and did not have anything outstandingly and blatantly insulting–unlike how they treat, say, Barnard.

They ended with your characteristic comparison of the College, SEAS, and Barnard, framed around what the class of 2010 will be doing after graduation–the CC grad has an unpaid internship; the Barnard grad is married to an 80 year old. This segment perhaps produced the biggest laugh of the night, thanks to a vocal audience member. After the performer said that the SEAS graduate is laying in bed with a bombshell of a woman, a male (presumably SEAS student) in the audience gave a large cheer. The joker responded, “…At least that’s what she’s programmed to be,” causing the heckler to be rightfully humiliated and the audience to roar with laughter.

While the jokes tonight weren’t necessarily fresh, Orgo Night succeeded in doing what it has always done: provide a sense of community. Even though we’ve heard all too much that SEAS students don’t get laid, there’s something about hearing the fact that SEAS students don’t get laid while crammed in Butler 209 with a bunch of friends and strangers that is special. And as is typical, Orgo Night managed to provide that special sentiment and was an enjoyable performance.

- DH

Oh also, we know it’s confusing, but remember not to scream tonight: Primal Scream is Sunday.

Also also: Midnight Breakfast will be in LeFrak Gym tonight. Barnard seniors get in at 11, all other Barnardians at 11:30, then the rest of CU at midnight.

Update, 10:40: We have word that the Red Bull fairies are back in action- there are cans of Red Bull under some desks in 209, plus someone with a green duffle bag full of Red Bull sitting at one of the personal desks- if you want one, ask him.

This may come as a surprise to anyone of the several hundred that packed into a sweaty Butler 209 at midnight last night, but not everyone attended the fall iteration of the Marching Band’s semiannual Orgo Night performance on Wednesday. If you were too dedicated to studying, writing papers, your grades, your career, your sanity, and/or yourself to take an hour-long break in the name of Columbia spirit and comedy, you probably made the utility-maximizing decision (you econ major you) but you still missed a sometimes funny, if perhaps overly long show.

The show officially began just after 12:00 with the band marching into to the obligatory “Roar, Lion, Roar,” but the comedy started about half an hour earlier, when the Butler 209 began filling with boisterous expectant revelers, bewildering would-be diligent Literature Humanities studiers uninformed of the Orgo Night tradition, who desperately turned up their headphones as loud as they could before leaving to find shelter from the crowd. Post-fight song, the band kicked off the jokes by targeting PrezBo’s salary (“Do you know how hard it is to wake up in the morning knowing the President of the University of Tulsa makes more money than you?”) and recent 125^th st.-Toast bar brawler Lionel McIntyre (His favorite building is Harmony, because “he likes having a building named after his baby mama.”).

After a musical interlude—the band played quite well, as far as this reviewer could tell—the band riffed on “The War on Christmas” at Columbia for a little bit, with varying success, blaming swine flu, Twilight, gender neutral housing, and the ubiquitous “safe space” signs. “Pink is not a Christmas color. Sure you’re an ally… of Satan.” The show then hit its low point with a too-long segment exploring the mystery of the death of the Columbia lion intended to poke fun at other Ivy League mascots. Even if anyone really cares about mascots—does anyone?—this segment was just too far-fetched to hit home, and included the most offensive joke of the night: “our case was tighter than a Yale student stuffed in an air duct.” The lone highlight here was the band’s take on the Princeton tiger, who “has a long, notoriously tense relationship with African-American mammals.”

The subject then switched to “SEAS boys,” whom the band purported to make fun of this year in the place of “Barnard girls. “The “Band,” in the story told by the Orgo Night MCs, was supposedly picked up in Butler by a SEAS boy using the pick up line, “Want to check out my Gateway Project?” After several jokes about the feminine nature of this “SEAS boy” it turned out he was a Barnard girl all along, leaving the audience laughing, but slightly confused. Had all the jokes been about Barnard? Unclear, perhaps, but it was well received by the audience.

After a diversion about Sarah Palin running for President of Columbia—hasn’t Sarah Palin been done to death yet?—the band continued with what seemed to be its greatest and most reliable comedic bit: Barnard College. This time the theme was Barnard’s drive to instill a sense of community concurrent with “the opening of its shiny new Vag.” Along these lines, Barnard will be placing incoming freshmen into “houses” by use of the “Placing Panties.” Names being considered for the houses include “Griffinwhore, Ravencunt, and Huffledouche.” Finally, the band touched on the new policy of mandatory meal plans for Barnard upperclassman: “What better way to build community than in a women’s restroom, where your entire student body will be when they shift from starving themselves to binging and purging?”

This joke succeeded because it was relevant to current issues on campus in a way much of the rest of the program wasn’t. We’ve already heard enough about PrezBo, other Ivies, and Sarah Palin. We want jokes that are fresh. It was altogether a good, not a great, Orgo Night, but was nevertheless thoroughly enjoyed by those who appreciate that sort of humor that likes to push boundaries simply for the sake of pushing boundaries.

- An eager crowd awaits the band’s entrance

If you missed Orgo Night, fret not – the show was recorded and will be available tomorrow on CUMB’s blog. Now, the Bwog review:

After entering to the usual “Roar Lion Roar,” the Columbia University Marching Band noted that, due to the recession, this year’s show would be sponsored by the Columbia University Show. “We also thank the Varsity Show,” a band member opined, “for lowering expectations for the past 35 years.” As the Hillel-distributed stress balls flew in the air over the spectators (one eventually landing in a tuba sousaphone), many were still looking for seats, but the band told them not to worry: “if you can’t hear the jokes, there’ll be plenty seats open by intermission.”

Thus began one of the best Orgo Nights in recent memory, though, in typical marching band fashion, some of the jokes skirted the edge of tastefulness. Surprisingly, the end of the election and the departure did not dampen the band’s taste for political humor- the first two segments focused on Ann Coulter (simply described as “fucking crazy” and Fox News respectively (with “Beat It” and “More Than A Feeling” mixed in), and mostly had fun at “Coultergeist’s” expense, including asking “If she thinks kindergartners are being taught fisting in kindergarten, what are they being taught in high school?

But the satire soon returned home, with bits on the “fun recession,” new Dean Moody-Adams’s secret plan to make Columbia more like Cornell, and a well-received, epic narrative of the band being dragged home by “The Diana.” Jokes included Dean Cristen Scully-Kromm and her “eight hairy legs,” a scuffle at the Winter Formal coat check over people attempting to “smuggle out fun in their pockets,” and “The Diana” being described as “every Barnard girl: she was tall and short, slutty and a lesbian, fat and anorexic.” Appropriately the tale of hooking up with the Diana ended with a spirited rendition of “Love Shack.” The Cornell segment was perhaps the edgiest section, though, as jokes included “Columbia’s new mascot – the Suicide Lion,” and the building of a gorge on 116th Street where students can express their frustration and despair “the Cornell war: headfirst.”

The performance closed with a combination of the political and educational spheres, as the Marching Band took on Hillary Clinton, Barack Hussein Obama, and Eric Holder. Holder got the lightest treatment, his experience in Columbia College, Columbia Law, and the Board of Trustees making him “the only person Bollinger follows on Twitter.” Clinton became fodder for another Barnard joke, as the band expressed surprise that Clinton would return twice in a year when “Barnard girls don’t know how to make a relationship last more than three months.”

It was Obama, though, that led to a surprise, as the band announced that “Barack Hussein Obama, honorary member of the marching band, will be delivering the commencement address…in your fucking dreams.” Continuing to draw inspiration from that beloved alum, the band continued “we are not a liberal Columbia, we are not a conservative Columba, we’re just a mostly liberal Columbia” and, to even more applause, “we are not a white Columbia, a black Columbia, a Hispanic Columbia, or an Asian Columbia – we’re a mostly Jewish Columbia!”

With that, and a playing of “Jerk It Out,” the band departed, but not before one final Orgo-inspired shot: “a long chain of molecules is called a polymer, and a long chain of the same joke over and over again is the Varsity Show.” A final ovation followed, and, in Bwog’s opinion, the band deserved it all.

- JCD