R

Pranks for
the Memories

If you bring
naked fire
dancers to
commencement,
they'll remember
you at reunions

BY JOHN FRIEDMANN
Johnny can read. And write. Doesn't do too bad a
Our system of higher education is in crisis. Yes,
job programming a computer, either. But he lacks
the know-how to play a good prank. Whether he
realizes it or not, without this crucial skill, his
college education remains woefully incomplete.
Wake up, campers! Remember when you were in high
school, and you dreamed of all the wild things you'd do
when you got to college? How many of them have you
done? College means more than bad beer, junk food and
access to better computer games. It's supposed to be an
awakening of the spirit, an opening of the soul, a broaden-
ing of the mind. Simply put, college is a place to get away
with as much as you can.
Today's young scholars are abandoning a legacy, fritter-
ing away a trust fund of truly great pranks perpetuated by
their predecessors. Students now seem less inclined to
commit the devilish deeds that have had adults chuckling,
"Oh, those college kids!" since at least the 18th century.
Panty raids are down nationwide. Campus statue thefts
and "alterations" are at their lowest level in years. Even
the champions are dormant: MIT, usually in the first
division, hasn't disrupted the Harvard-Yale football game
since 1982.
What is going on? Today's students are no less intelli-
gent, creative or funny than those who preceded them. If
anything, they are more so. Aren't you brighter and wittier
than your parents? Sadly, some of the decline must be
attributed to laziness. The Great American Couch Potato
Epidemic has reduced some collegians to chairbound ALF
worshipers. Many of the greatest escapades had their
genesis in boredom. But the incentive to do creative things
with statues of past campus presidents is lost when a
student turned sofa spud has 64-channel cable.
The decline could also be blamed on the gradual relax-
ation of moral standards. Students are less likely to be
creeping out in the predawn hours playing tricks if they
could be spending that time creeping into someone's bou-
doir. A more probable explanation is that students are just
more cautious about everything. Simply put, future Yup-
pies don't want to jeopardize tomorrow's gravy train with
today's tomfoolery. What if Merrill Lynch finds out that
you were the one who put grain alcohol in the football
team's Gatorade jug, precipitating the greatest second-half
collapse in school history? Bang. A promising career flog-

ging Eurobonds goes down the tubes. That's scary, but not
likely. Successful jokesters don't end up flipping burgers.
Your future boss probably went his classmates one better
prankwise, and that's why he's a boss.
Perhaps one explanation for the current lack of prank-
ishness is that potential merry tricksters are ignorant of
the rewards for pulling off memorable capers. You want
everlasting fame? There's no better way to attain immor-
tality. Think about it. Whom does your father remember
better-the president of Young Dweebs for Better Civil
Engineers or the guy who turned on the stadium sprinklers
during the ROTC parade? When you return for your class
reunion 30 years from now, no one will give a damn about
the great job you did with the student senate. But it's
guaranteed that they'll remember the naked fire dancers
you brought to commencement.
The sad thing is, the '80s should be the golden age of
pranks. Administrators are too busy trying to rein in
underaged drinkers and apartheid protesters to harass
those well-rounded collegians who think underwear looks
fine flapping at the top of a flagpole. The students of the
'50s had to visit the seedier parts of town to engage a
stripper for the faculty-senate meeting. Now one phone
call and a Visa card is all that's required to precipitate
embarrassment throughout campus.
Switch to standby: High tech should also lead to high jinks.
Computers, for example, open up previously undreamed-of
horizons, places where no jokester has gone before. With-
out leaving your dorm room, you can alter menus, repro-
gram stoplights or change the school president's flight
reservations from first class to standby.
Don't be misled, though: traditional capers are in no way
outdated. Although it has been known to peeve some of the
more militant neighborhood feminists, a good old panty
raid is hard to beat. An added bonus is the resurgence of
campus ROTC programs, which provides all-important
leadership talent for the assault. This isn't a strictly male
endeavor, either; women could do quite well with an attack
on a fraternity. Other, more personal, crusades are just as
effective. If you know any blow-off seniors (and aren't they
all?), introduce them to the Fear of God. Get some depart-
mental stationery and write up a little note informing the
hapless upperclassman that graduation is out of the ques-
tion because of unfulfilled freshman distribution require-
ments. Pop it in the mail and be sure to be around when the
letter arrives-it's fun for the whole family.
If you still lack for inspiration, look to role models. Allen
Funt of "Candid Camera" is the dean of pranksters. Al-
though now found only late at night on channels with
numbers larger than your IQ, Funt is a veritable fountain
of ideas. Even check out top administrators at your school;
you'll probably be surprised at the percentage who were
college cutups. Maybe that's why they're still in school
instead of being out in the real world. Another thing you'll
find is that once word of your first adventure makes the
rounds, other jokers will start asking you to join them, or
coming with plans of their own.
This isn't professional wrestling; a prank isn't necessari-
ly legal just because it happened in the ring. There are
some things, however hilarious they sound, that go beyond
the bounds of good taste. One general rule to follow is: if
the endeavor could earn you a felony conviction, it usually
isn't a good idea. Other than that, just have fun and repeat
the true prankster's credo: "If David Letterman can do
it, so can I."
John Friedmann is a senior at Carnegie Mellon who
plans to become a college administrator.

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50 NEWSWEEKMON CAMPUS

MAY 1988