For thousands of years, from the age of Socrates to the present, the great scholars have pondered such meaningful questions as, “What is life?,” “How can men form a just society?,” and, “To which U.S. president is each Princeton eating club most similar?” In this week’s issue, The Nass has bravely stepped forward to answer the third. So, without further ado, here’s the list of the Pennsylvania 12:
Our nation’s 30th president was also its most taciturn, earning himself the nickname “Silent Cal.” The story goes that Coolidge once attended a dinner party, at which a woman bet him that she could get him to say more than two words over the course of the evening. He responded, “Fuck you. I’m going to get kettle corn,” and walked away.
CANNON DIAL ELM–Gerald Ford
Little-known fact: though his predecessor Richard Nixon installed the White House bowling alley, it was Ford who added 12 taps and technology to rival the hottest NYC nightclubs.
CAP&GOWN–Future President Mitt Romney
You want to be athletic? OK. Wait, you want to be musical instead? Sure. Neither one? I guess that works…. You want to party hard? Sounds fun. You want to chill? That’s better…. You want to feel exclusive? Awesome. You want to be welcoming to underclassmen? Why not?…. You want to dance downstairs? Let’s! You want to dance upstairs? I wouldn’t have it any other way…. You want Cap to apologize for America? Cap will never apologize for America.
CHARTER–Warren G. Harding
Warren G. Harding loved Fridays.
CLOISTER INN–Ronald Reagan
Reagan was never hosed from T.I., but he did once lose the race for the Republican nomination. In the late 1980s, Reagan offered documentation to illegal immigrants; when Cloister once tried distributing passes to freshmen, they all immediately left for better clubs. “Tear down this wall!” demanded freshmen unsuccessfully at the bicker clubs before resigning themselves to the fact that Cloister would have to be their shining city upon a hill.
In 1972, Richard Nixon re-opened U.S. relations with China. He also hailed from the U.S. state with the largest Asian-American population. This has nothing to do with Colonial; it’s just always interesting to learn about American presidents.
Like Nixon, though, Colonial has accomplished a miraculous comeback. After a distinguished career on the Street, Colonial had only 13 first-round sign-ins in 2010. “You won’t have Colonial to kick around anymore,” whined the club’s president. Colonial then promptly went on to post record sign-in numbers in both 2011 and 2012, and has become the center of Prospect Avenue’s Friday scene. Someone should check to see if Charter’s being wiretapped.
Colonial Club and Nixon have a few additional things in common. For example, Nixon was known to be a lot of fun.
Among the basketball and football players, the hard-partying Southerner George W. Bush cheer-led his way into Cottage. W. was a great match for the club, until he got bored and convinced everyone to invade Cannon with him.
Since then, Cottage has devolved into a leaderless, Lord of the Flies-type wasteland. No one is ever seen entering or leaving—except by way of the second-floor terrace.
Take a look at this excerpt from Kennedy’s application essay for Princeton:
“Ever since I entered school, I have had the ambition to enter Princeton, and I sincerely hope I can reach my goal. I feel the environment of Princeton is second to none, and cannot but help having a good effect on me. To be a ‘Princeton Man’ is indeed an enviable distinction.”
It’s clear that, upon arriving at Princeton in the fall of 1935, JFK and his butler were immediately initiated into St. A’s. Seconds later, the out-of-breath Ivy president appeared at Jack’s door, begging him to help diversify the club—they didn’t have enough rich, white elitists.
Garfield was undoubtedly our nation’s nicest president. In his spare time, he loved to read and even devised an alternative proof of the Pythagorean Theorem. The only thing he got around to during his six-month presidency was civil service reform and opening up the government, just like Quad is trying to open up the Street by lowering its fees.
Garfield’s most famous, though, because he was shot and never heard from again—kind of like Quad for the rest of the year after Sh!t That Glows.
He inhaled. And while he may not have believed that FOOD=LOVE, he certainly didn’t believe that marriage did, either. Breaking down heteronormative social constructs like a true Terran. There’s even more: Clinton’s a talented saxophonist who hangs out with other musicians and the vibe of Terrace’s free-for-all Green Room was approximated in Clinton’s Oval Office, where interns gave blowjobs and candy rained from the ceilings—wait, the second part isn’t true.
As Clinton once said, “I did not have sexual relations with that woman. Also, Terrace is my mother.”
TIGER INN–Thomas Jefferson
“Oh, I think I need a drink,” chanted this Founding Father as he pounded Beast, taking a break from writing the Declaration of Independence. Jefferson was totally hammered the entire time he was penning the Declaration, and was dressed in the frattiest attire of the late-18th century: a tank and powdered wig. When that pussy John Adams asked for a copy of our nation’s first great document, Jefferson taunted, “Chug one to get one!”
Not only did Jefferson invent America Night and State Night, he invented America and state schools. Like any good T.I. member, Jefferson also occasionally spent some nights out that he’d later regret. Like the time he had 15 beers and knocked up Sally Hemings.
Said Wilson, the 13th president of Princeton and 28th of the United States, “I should one day hope to have as my namesake an institution of public policy and affairs that attracts the finest students. Scratch that—rather than the best kids, let’s take anyone competitive who likes the sound of her own voice. Hopefully, they’ll all go into finance. And rather than demonstrating an interest in gaining new perspectives on the issues of the world, they should all flock together into one social group and fritter away their time playing beer pong and dancing.”
That is the story of how Woodrow Wilson founded Princeton Tower Club.