TSL, WASC, CCLA, SYR in Massive Conspiracy to Replace Real Life with PACS, Hip-Hop
By David Lydon
Opinions Staff Writer

Reading through this week’s TSL (which, by the time you read this, will have become last week’s TSL as part of the same natural process of renewal that has recently incinerated our mountains), I couldn’t help but notice firstly that the WASC (The Western Association of Schools and Colleges) seems to have come down pretty hard on Pomona recently and, secondly, that TSL’s Editorial Board seems to have come down pretty hard on snack at Frank. I’ll be briefly tackling the Board (not literally, of course, since I’m fairly confident that any lone member of the Editorial Board could crush me into a small cube [ed. note: this is correct]), and then I’ll be moving on to hit (again, I’m speaking metaphorically) both the WASC and a third, secret subject. Are you brave enough to discover what my third subject will be? If so, read on! If not, I’ll be talking about SYR, so you should read on anyway.

Why is snack location still an editorial-board-worthy issue, even after a rather clear (some might even go so far as to say “nuclear”) E-mail from Dean Quinley that basically finalized the snack policy? I don’t know, and I don’t really care all that much at this point. I had a well thought-out article about snack, but following D.Q.’s e-mail, that article was exiled to the bulletin board outside of my room, Oldenborg 263, doomed to fight a lonely battle against the forces of snack-privilege, and I’m not sure why the Board’s snack editorial didn’t suffer a similar fate. Regardless, I’ll leave my old article to its fate, but I’ll offer it a smidgen of support by asking two questions: (1) Why is Frank snack “lame”? (2) Why is it that snack “belongs on North Campus”? Hint: If the answer has anything to do with the superiority of seniors, then it’s stupid. That argument may have held water back in high school, when seniors had put up with three more years of crap than the freshmen, but it doesn’t make much sense at Pomona. Are we supposed to give seniors special treatment because they’ve been having fun for longer than we have? What kind of argument is that?
Well, actually it’s a much better kind of argument than that of the Western Association of Schools and Colleges, which recently wrote a long, ultra-critical report on Pomona that basically said: “Sure, Pomona College seems to be a top-notch educational institution, but since they don’t adequately document their process, it could just be a giant coincidence.” I’m still scratching my head, trying to figure out where that one came from. To gain a little perspective, let’s break out a can of cool and refreshing Pomona Elitism (don’t worry, we have several million more cans in our collective fridge) and look at what just happened here: WASC, an organization that is in charge of accrediting the West Coast’s numerous universities and colleges (of the liberal-arts, technical, and community varieties) is upset that Pomona College, which most parties would probably agree is one of the three best schools in the American West, hasn’t implemented all of their recommendations, most of which seemed to involve coming up with all sorts of elaborate ways to measure our effectiveness.

Maybe it’s the elitism kicking in, but I’m not sure if it’s really possible to quantify our effectiveness. Since President Stanley seems to agree with me, and he’s a neat guy, I’m going to hold that point to be true. I mean, it’s entirely possible that I’ll major in something so esoteric that I’ll wind up living in a box, but that doesn’t mean my education will have been a complete waste. Or maybe it does. Either way, I’m still kind of bitter at WASC. They’re the same brilliant organization responsible for our PAC system, which I’m not really a big fan of. I mean, I think I’ve learned more science sitting around listening to my scientist friends than I could learn by taking the “Genetics for Non-Scientists” that’s being offered this semester—especially when you figure in that I’ve already obtained some already science either on my own and in high school. The PAC system is, among other problems, based upon the assumption that all of one’s learning takes place in the classroom, an assumption I believe to be wrong. And even if you like the concept of the PAC system, you’ll probably agree that its current incarnation—which contains countless ways to basically avoid doing actual work for your PACs—is deeply flawed. At WASC’s request the modern PAC system was created, and now WASC is complaining that we have not allowed them greater input in messing with our school. Well, boo-hoo.

Speaking of “boo,” I’d like to take the remainder of my space to express my displeasure with CCLA, specifically regarding this year’s SYR. Although I have nothing against the Edmunds Ballroom, and do not wish to unfairly belittle the hip-hop genre, I must say that this year’s SYR was something of a disappointment. The Edmunds Ballroom is a less interesting location than the Seaver Theater courtyard, and the monotonous string of nearly identical hip-hop songs was far less interesting to me than the mixed musical offerings of last year’s SYR, or even this year’s much-maligned Dryspell. (And if you don’t believe me, you can ask all the people who spent any time at Dryspell—it shouldn’t take you very long, since there were only eight of them.) Seen from this context, the low turnout at this year’s SYR, though disappointing, was not unexpected, given the parochial nature of the event.

I understand that this criticism is somewhat unfair, in the sense that I ignored all of those Digester articles about joining CCLA, only to turn around and criticize them when I don’t like a party. On the other hand, my demands are relatively simple: when dealing with the large, all-encompassing campus parties such as SYR and Harwood Halloween, please try to ensure that the musical offerings reflect the varied nature of this campus’s musical taste. This does not mean that hip-hop should not be granted a home at these parties, only that other music should also be played. Although I’m perfectly willing to make an exception with regards to Smiley ’80s—you see, I’m not that completely ridiculous.