Do you recall a time before you’d stepped foot into Butler Library? Do you remember the innocence you once had? Staff writer Jordan Merrill does, and she has some evidence-based theories of what happens on the inside™. 

The version of Butler Library that Columbia wants you to think is real

Every Monday through Thursday as I make the stroll to my classes from Carman to the north end of campus, I pass by something that I’ve heard people call “Butler Library.” If you haven’t seen this building because you’ve been living in the sewers or just transferred to Columbia this week from a remote Siberian village, Butler is the gigantic edifice that has all of the dead white men’s names displayed on it. After hearing many stories of Butler facilitating “stress culture” and because I’m too lazy to leave my dorm in general, I haven’t stepped foot inside. That doesn’t mean I haven’t formed opinions on Butler, though, or that I don’t regard myself as having full knowledge about what goes on inside. From what my own psychic abilities have told me, I’ve made some solid conclusions about the specific purposes of each floor of Butler.

• I don’t think there’s a first floor. If there is one, I refuse to acknowledge it.
• The New York County Fair on the second floor. Complete with a cotton candy machine and a 100-foot-tall ferris wheel, students come here when they are looking for a more collaborative study environment. In between problem sets, students can be found enjoying the carousel, befriending goats in the petting zoo, and milking the county fair cows that live in the stacks.
• A formal recreation of Versailles on the third floor. Everything, including the people here, is made out of solid gold, and there is a rotating crew of 100 freshmen who serve food to students on gold platters and scrub all of the books with toothbrushes. Rumor has it that if you knock three times on a table and whisper “I’m stressed,” Marie Antoinette appears and gives you edibles.
• The infamous fourth-floor fight club. If you’ve been to Butler and don’t know about the fight club, don’t try to argue this one. You just haven’t seen it because it’s a secret.
• Rats on the fifth floor. There is nothing on this floor except rats. Hundreds of them. With a formal system of government, including a rat parliament that is focusing on overcrowding problems and other rat-centered issues. Students are banned from this floor for obvious reasons.
• The town from Call Me By Your Name on the sixth floor. Have you ever dreamed of walking up to the sixth floor of your college library only to realize you are actually somewhere in northern Italy? Of course you have, weirdo. Butler is where this dream can be brought to life. Also, Timothée Chalamet lives here. Like, he keeps a mattress in the corner and everything. The library faculty has been arguing for months about whether or not they should say something to him.
• The physical manifestation of your worst nightmare on the seventh floor. The seventh floor is a unique experience for every student. It’s like the room in Harry Potter that transforms into whatever the student needs, except with your worst fucking nightmare.
• The cult dedicated to the fourth Jonas Brother on the eighth floor. Many people don’t know this, but Frankie Jonas, often referred to as “the bonus Jonas,” has a devout group of followers at Columbia. Every night they meet for six hours on the eighth floor of Butler to light candles and sing songs in his honor. These meetings are invitation-only and very exclusive.
• The ninth floor. What did you think would be here? It’s fucking books.

Fancy butler via Bwog Archives