Good thing I wasn’t there. I’m allergic to Cipro.

They defunded everything!  Even the stuff they didn’t steal!

I’m an NYC resident and didn’t know about this glorious spectacle. My message to Columbia is this: Bring back the band, and I’ll come to one of your events—from the look of things that should make your gate sales a full 10% higher.

I think that this situation absolutely requires a really futile and stupid gesture be done on somebody’s part.

Ramming SPEED!

If that’s the case, it should be no surprise these guys are getting jerked around behind the scenes. 

The mop was my favorite instrument played by the band.

The school fucked up, they trusted them!

As a Columbia alumnus and someone who took orgo, I can vouch for the fact that people who were serious about studying for the Orgo exam the night before the test knew not to go to the library. Everyone was at the library that night to listen to the band, not to study.

In 1965 I hitchhiked from Harpur College to Cornell to see the Rolling Stones at Barton Hall. We got there early so to kill time we went to the Cornell/Columbia football game. At halftime the Columbia band performed before the BIG RED BAND came on. Their theme was a typical Saturday night at college. I remember they…

This underplays what Orgo Night is. I saw this story elsewhere, and it led me into a rabbit hole. Here’s what I took away (and I’ll happily stand corrected if any Columbia alumni can offer better info):

At the Yale game in 2001, at the height of the anthrax scare, when Yale was hoarding the cure, the band formed the shape of a Cipro pill. Pure art.

Word is they’re going to reform as a fraternity and get revenge on the jocks by showing that they can be cool too.

I went to Tennessee, which is quite fond of its large, well-disciplined, and staggeringly, staggeringly uncreative marching band (that’s not the fault of the actual band members, of course, unless they spend a lot of time asking the director if they can go a bit crazy this week and do four Sousa marches instead of…

they’re busy cartwheeling through some administrative office, playing a tuba loudly and poorly and making off-color dick jokes.

I hate double secret probation.