Sept. 26, 1957

I beg your pardon for the delay, but it has taken me a full day to recover my compusure
after subjecting myself to the stomach-turning ordeal of setting that cursed word down in
print.  Upon finishing that wrd my new pen began to assume a molten state and to emit
a sickening odor.  I disposed of it immediately by flinging ti in the lake which now, a day
later, is beginning to steam and boil.  Dead fish line the shore and a stench is in the air.
However, that is neither here nor there.  Back to the problem at hand.

Tom, I am shocked beyond words.  What more can I say?  The situation goes beyond
the capabilities of the English language.

And to think I respected and trusted you because of your high ideals, your command of
eastern barbarisms, etc.  What is to become of our fair country if pillars of the nation
such as yourself begin to crumble and rot, yes rot away.

What more can I say?  You have committed your statement into writing.  It looks like your
writing so I must conclude that there has been no forgery, especially since the entire letter
is written in your style - - an uncopyable style.  I know that nothing could make you say a
thing like that unless you meant it.  You could not have lost your senses sufficiently to cause
you to say it, because to say or write a thing like that you would have to be so far gone that
you could no longer write, speak, hold a pen, etc.  I estimate that you would have to regress
to the mentality of a 5 month old fetus before such a thought could come to you.  No, the
only explanation is that you were in earnest, and since you were, there is nothing more to say.
We are all doomed.  Once this leaks out and it will, because the scream I uttered when I
read that fateful line was recorded on seismographs as far away as the Newberry Library.
Such a scream can only mean one thing.

When the truth comes out, stocks will landslide, government will crumble, our economy will
be ruined.  I am buying Russian war bonds as fast as I can.

I will not condemn you for what you did.  Revenge belongs to God alone.

See you on Judgment Day - -  I never thought the end would come like this.  I hope the
postal service remains intact long enough for this to reach you - - you traitor, you Benedict
Machura, you Brutus.

Ceasar

Pardon the misspellings, faulty punctuations and inconsisitencies in the above epic.

It was written in a state of extreme shock and thus is not a fitting example of the author's
literary capabilities.

Sept. 25, 1957

Dear Thom,

Your account of rushing at ole Dartmouth was both interesting and entertaining  (ach
redundant).  I haven't told G or anyone else about your experiences for I am afraid that
they might riot, especially G.  You know how emotional he gets over alcoholic subjects.

I am Sandwich Commissioner of Howard Hall!!!!!!!!!!?  This dubious title means that I am
in charge of selling sandwiches and milk every night in our hall.  Out of every dollar I take in
60 cents goes to pay for the sandwiches & milk, 20 cents goes into the hall treasury,
and 20 cents goes to me.  After I pay my assistant I should make a personal profit of at
least $10 a week.  I am on my way to becoming a Captain of Industry.

I still haven't got a grappling hook, but one of these nights I'm going to scale that roof, with
or without proper equipment.

My fish tanks arrived today via Railroad Express (102 lbs..........$4.69).  I didn't think they
weighed that much.

I strongly object to your inference that rock and Roll music is not a true form of music.  I hold
that it is a very basic form of music..  It may well (might well, well might?) be a very crude and
primitive form of music, but it still must be termed music. You may hold strong opinions on
certain subjects, but you must not let your opinions constrew (correct spelling?) basic facts.
Case in point:  the fact that you do not consider D to be a member of the human race does
not alter the fact that he is a member of the human race, albeit a very crude member.  Let's
watch our statements from now on.

As for P, I thought I expressed my opinions of her in my last letter.  Frankly I haven't  figured
her out yet but I am very interested in continuing my extensive survey:  however, let me say
immediatley that she does not appear to be a very discernable individual.

All that I have said up to now has merely been idle conversation.  Now I will come to the meat
of the letter.

Tom!!!!!! How could you possibly in all honesty, integrity, sincerity, up righteousness, etc.
ad nauseum et ad infinitum, begin to prepare youself to consider, to anticipate the remote
possibility of even entertaining in the most inner recesses of your sub-conscious, the half-
hearted casual and instantaneous quasi-thought impulse of glancing thrice at a modern girl
who by her own insidious actions has shown that she publicly engages in, and is undoubtedly
addicted to, that insidious, repugnant, repulsive, and positively habit forming vice that I must
set the name of this abomination down and thus defile this innocent sheet of virgin paper
to (ugh!) chewing gum (ugh), (aah-goah--waaghaaga).

Sept. 22, 1957

Home is Heaven and orgies are vile,

But I like an orgy once in a while.

                               Ogden Nash

Dear Bob,

Again I add an erudite touch to my letter, but this, again, is not just an ostentatious frivolity.
The couplet does have direct bearing on the text of this letter, which deals to a large, if not complete, extent with the happenings during the five day period - - from last Monday to Friday
 - - commonly referred to as rushing period.

I'm happy to say my efforts were successful, and I am now a pledge of Alpha Theta.

The rushees' activity on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday night consisted of going around
to as many houses as possible and convincing the brothers thereof that the rushee in question
was an entertaining, intelligent, friendly, congenial fellow who would be very desirable as a
brother.  In the process, a rushee must consume at least three quarts of cider or coke (which
is the lesser of two evils, I will let you decide) and five packs of cigarettes.

Formal invitations are issued for Thursday night to those the fraternity finds up to its standards,
and an invitation means at least a quart of beer and a pack of cigarettes in this four hour
period (it lasted four hours every night).

Then comes Friday night - - Sink night - - so called, I believe, because a few non-swimmers
have been known to sink, though granted, smiling, in a beer flooded bar in a fraternity
basement.

On this evening, and this evening alone, beer assumes the identity of water and most
people treat it as such - - pouring it down someone's back, telling funny jokes and giving
the audience one in the face right at the punch line, etc.

Another characteristic of the evening is the aversion everyone shows for clothes - especially
someone else's.

As you can see, it's quite a wild time, and it's fortunate that it occurs only "once in a while".

Other than the above happenings, nothing much has been happening around here, but with
the football season rapidly approaching, I'm sure I'll have lots to write about.

Your"P" Report, although not very conclusive, provides some important information.  I must object, however, to your statement:

"Most types of music, including rock and roll,"   I am sure that you made a mistake, for you are
an intelligent person, and I'm certain that you didn't mean to insinuate that rock and roll could
be included among that most expressive of arts - - music,

Speaking of pros and cons, you gave me her pros and cons, but you didn't mention your
pros and cons in regard to her.

I'm glad to see she has no aversion to dating car-less boys, and I'm afraid I'll be seriously
considering asking her for a date this Christmas, even though she does chew gum.

Tom