Conspiracy Theory: First Years Aren’t Real
In recent news, the life (of the mind) at the University of Chicago has been brought to a startling halt after rumors began circulating that Administration forwent accepting ACTUAL students for the class of 2024 in favor of trained, underpaid actors.
While this may seem outrageous, anyone who has actually seen the way freshmen are acting on campus right now will tell you that their behavior is highly incongruent with what is expected from a typical UChicago admit.
For one thing, there has been a significant decline in crying sounds and general sounds of misery in and around campus hot spots. This could hypothetically be attributed to COVID and social distancing guidelines, but everyone knows that REAL UChicago students could easily make their pain known across six measly feet.
Yet another cause for suspicion is the sheer number of friends some of these “first years” have accumulated. They have “groups”, they have “plans” and they have “social lives,” all of which are strictly frowned upon by Title Z, Article MXIV of The Student Code of Conduct, which, incidentally, also bans creative thinking, brightly colored over the knee socks, and genuine laughter for more than 5 consecutive seconds. If these “students” were REALLY first years, they would be weeping around the Quad, looking hopelessly at roving packs of upperclassmen and getting lost, not taking pictures at the Bean and calling it Cloud Gate.
To look further into this upsetting development, the Shady Dealer allowed me to finally put my three week old English degree into use and get down into a storm of funky investigating journalism.
Several of the people I talked to said things like “Get away from me, you little weirdo.” and “Are you okay?” and “Don’t you have, like, a hobby?” but one particular source was willing to give me information he’d gleaned from overhearing a batch of several “first years.”
The man, who asked to be called anonymous but is actually named Gregory James, said that one of these “kids” had an opportunity to brag about his SAT score and didn’t. They also failed to somehow weave the words “juxtaposition” and “esoteric” and their year-long experience juggling chainsaws in a remote field in Mongolia into otherwise normal conversation.
Yet another so-called “freshman” reportedly remarked that they found Bartlett Dining Hall food “pretty good, actually,” while his friend lauded Max P as “a feat of architectural marvel” and “a good aesthetic choice.”
Obviously, this is concerning news, and Gregory’s points cast even more doubt onto this whole operation. I attempted to contact him for a follow-up but his line was “disconnected” and his RA told me he was removed from the premises in the dead of night. She heard a scream, but it was reportedly unrelated.
All we can do now is continue to live amongst the imposters, hoping that their intentions are good, or at least better than Booth students. We will continue to keep you updated as the story develops.
As for those of you wondering whether I am, in fact, a paid actor sent to make you all think we’re on your side, I’ll never tell.
XoXo Gossip Girl
