This, Sir, Is My Case!
Rembert's Valedictorian Speech, June 14, 2009
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Rembert's Valedictorian Speech, June 14, 2009
In this post-Green Key America, I feel as if I literally have nothing positive or worthwhile to bring to society. I'm always sleepy, I don't know where any of my left shoes are and, for the past two hours, I've been trying to charge my Dell with this Mac charger I found on the Green. So I'm sitting alone, avoiding one-on-one interactions at all costs, trying to think of something to write about in reference to "Alternative Social Spaces," which I must say is the silliest theme for the Mirror since "Frats: Are They Too Classy?" (April 2007).
You know what my favorite thing about Green Key is? We don't even try to legitimize its existence anymore. It started off as a party weekend. Then, in 1921, some rogue organization called the Green Key Society swooped in like the Legion of Doom to try to bring some legitimacy to it. Even though they're still around now, the weekend is back to the way it should be -- an unapologetically debaucherous celebration of Spring.
I've decided not to follow the theme of Dartmouth families and legacies; I think they get enough facetime on these new buildings James Wright built with his bare hands. I will, however, talk about the two things that have been dominating my thoughts for the past week -- those being Three 6 Mafia tickets and swine flu -- and how upset I am that I didn't get either.
In honor of PRIDE Week, I was going to wax poetic about different ways that the Dartmouth student body has made me proud over the years. I was in the mood to highlight certain events that have exemplified the high quality of the community members we have here at Dartmouth (The Rally Against Hatred, Fieldstock, etc.). However, this was all before I took a stroll down to Novack Cafe and my mood (and subsequently this article) took a turn for the salty.
I think it's time that I came clean about one of my most private issues. I'm not proud of what I'm about to divulge, but it's the truth and it's been painful keeping everything bottled up for so long.
You will encounter things throughout your life that are blessings in disguise.
Let me preface this article by clearly stating that I know absolutely nothing about style. Yes, I pick up a copy of Esquire, GQ and Highlights before every flight, but don't let that fool you. Frankly, this probably should have been the week I used my vacation days from this job, as to avoid the embarrassment of my lack of expertise.
Attn: Members of the Class of 2009:
Hey '09s, whatever you do, don't read the next sentence. We have 100 days left. Because of this horrific fact, coupled with the facts that it's already March, the term is almost over and our class trip to Cabo is but a few days away, our time is running out to do those things every Dartmouth student has to do before they graduate.
I saw seven stretch Hummer limousines in Hanover on Friday, so I figured there was some dignitary in town, or at the very least a B-side congresswoman (Shea-Porter). But nay. It was for the Class of 2012 freshman formal.
Here at Dartmouth, there are only three types of students. The rarest of these types are those students that plan their academics very efficiently, always work hard, turn in assignments early, write rough drafts of papers, spell check thrice, watch "Spin City" re-runs and go to sleep by 10 p.m.
What cruel God decided that my favorite and least favorite events should happen on the same weekend? Really, aligning planets? Which one of you got everyone else together and said, "Yo planets, let's make Valentine's Day and Winter Carnival happen at the same time and thereby, completely ruin one of Rembert's favorite days of the year. Yea, let's align and make that happen. Boom. Roasted." I bet it was Mars. Wait what? It was Earth? Wow. Whatever, I'm still not going to recycle.
Disclaimer to the Dartmouth Community:
As a senior, I have seen Hanover's restaurant scene change drastically. I was here before Quiznos, I loved The Wrap, and I'm pretty sure I matriculated 12 Murphy's menus ago. I never could have imagined that I would live to see Yama and a BYOB Gusanoz in this little coal mining town. We need to capture this high point in Hanover's dining history before Mr. Recession takes it all away from us.
I know this isn't necessarily the topic of The Mirror this week, but I was stunned and a wee bit upset to return to campus on Wednesday from The District of Columbia and not see an article in The Dartmouth, America's Oldest College Newspaper -- Founded 1799, that had a student reporter doing more than simply describing the basics of the inauguration festivities. I wanted to read some crazy interviews that a Dartmouth student got with people who had traveled 9,000 miles across the Pacific by foot or a Dartmouth photographer who had somehow snuck through the security perimeter to get a picture of Sasha and Malia as they were escorted home. Sadly, none of these dreams were fulfilled.
If I had it my way, my closest friends from home and my closest friends from Dartmouth would somehow meet up at a Lionel Richie concert. They would be the only ones there, and, disguised as one of Lionel's backup singers, I would secretly watch to see if they got along. Halfway through "All Night Long," I would throw down my tambourine, kick off my platform shoes and jump into the crowd of my friends and probably burst into triumphant tears.
"Here it comes the party of a lifetime/31st of December/Man I remember when the ball dropped for '90/Now it's 9-9/ten years behind me" -- Will Smith, "Will 2K"
By Rembert Browne
Put some Taylor Swift on 'repeat' and settle down, because this week Rembert Browne writes an open letter to whomever has time for his broken heart.