Despite taking the nation (and Bacchanal) by storm, the Black Out Rage Gallon, casually known as BORG, stemmed from meager beginnings.

It was a regular Saturday night in the magical year of 2013 in the suburbs of Cincinnati, Ohio when Joe and his friends decided they should have a party. After a very heated group chat exchange, his parents let him use the basement that night, promising that they would stay upstairs if no one drank at the party. Joe was distraught, if they weren’t going to run around Walmart for the second night in a row, the only thing left to do was drink. They had to drink. But how could they get drunk but not leave any remnants in his basement? His friends came up with the solution, an invention that would revolutionize frat parties and suburban basements for centuries to come.

At once, all 11 boys hopped on their bikes and sped over to Matt’s house. His mom was the cool mom, and she had bought them a few handles of Svedka, the best of all alcohols. Between them sat three jugs of water, which they then proceeded to take turns drinking from until there was just enough room to dump in their prized vodka. This is it thought Joe, we changed the world. He took a sip and spit it out immediately.

“Guys. Problem. This shit tastes dank and like…not in a good way.”

But Matt had a solution, years of summer camp had led him to amass a variety of water flavorings, and this was his moment to shine. Without saying anything, he ran up to the pantry, coming down with a weird-looking, somewhat triangular bottle labeled “Wicked Blue Citrus Mio” and dumped a heavy stream of the thick fluorescent remnants into the jug. “Try it,” he said “I dare you.”

Chad could not say no to a dare. He braced himself, prepared for the worst, and took a gulp. “Boys…we did it.” He proclaimed, grinning ear to ear.

After much discussion, they decided to name it the Black Out Rage Gallon, or BORG, for short. They liked to keep things casual like that.

From then on, news of the BORG spread through Boring Suburb East High School, and the boys skyrocketed into popularity, toting along with them a rainbow array of jugs.

But it didn’t stop there. The BORG first spread to the University of Cincinnati, then to the surrounding schools, and on and on, until it had become a darty staple at state schools around the nation.

Far away, on the East Coast, a Columbia Sig Nu junior received a call from his friend at the University of Wisconsin. “Dude,” he said, ‘I had the best name for my BORG, I called it Borgan Wallen.” Mr. Sig Nu had to do more research, this ‘Borg’ concept intrigued him, and he decided the pset could wait.

From then on, even Columbia University couldn’t escape Borg fever. You see, they were already several years late to the trend, so they had to go all out to show that one day a year they could compete with state schools’ levels of fun. Bacchanal 2023 was the rise of the Columborg, and it was glorious.

If there is anything to be learned from the origin story of the Borg, it is that even good things can come from the suburban Midwest. Oh, and also, if you add enough flavoring and a fun name, you can convince even the smartest of people to lug around a gallon of water for hours.

The Famous Borg via Bwarchives