A berkeley student is not unlike a viking. At least this one isn't. We dutifully perform our daily tasks and do what we can to cultivate strength and vigor. We enjoy casual distraction and allow this to affect our daily routine, though never too far off track. We are sometimes lazy and slovenly, and others fierce and devoted. Much like vikings, we simply enjoy being students. Sometimes we enjoy it more than the act of studying.
We eat what we please and treat our lives as a casual chaos that we enjoy while maintaining some control. But in a deeper sense we are soldiers of the university system. Our war cry is GO BEARS. We walk around the "normal world" outside of Cal as vikings: tall and distinguished. Not everyone can be a viking. When we visit our families we are relaxed but we immediately begin to miss our fellow vikings. We feel some connection to all the other vikings at our school, but there are those with whom the special bond of trust is formed. We meet with them and drink mead. We discuss wenches, and which one is the fairest, and which deserve casual intercourse, and which should be avoided for reasons of health.
The real battleground, upon which we thrive, and on which we pelt screams of dionysian dude-bro fury into the sky, is the party. That greater general party, that pervades chosen houses, apartments, frats and co-ops on wekend nights. We eat with our friends and prepare for battle. We decide what our destination is, but we know that if one man is to separate from the others, we are all true men and that we will handle ourselves and discuss the paths to ultimate victory the following afternoon.
We adorn ourselves with appropriate battle wear and equip our weapons. We have certain goals in mind, but more important than any specific goal is a general one: to do battle, regardless of outcome. We have our main weapon -- be it a flask, a red cup, a "go bears" thermos, or especially a nalgene. "Pass the nalge, bro." "Bro, that's totally my nalge, bro." We are ready for battle. Once we are suited up and armed, and in the right company, we embark on our journey into the night.
Vikings are famous for entering berzerker rage during battle. They would intoxicate themselves to reach a state where all that lay in front of them was the enemy. In a berzerker state, the only way to engage with the enemy, isolated in front of you on the battle field, is complete and total desctruction. There is no time for appraisals of the situation. Action is decision. Your sword will fall upon your enemy and your enemy will perish. You do not pause to interview your enemy and make sure there is not something worth salvaging in them. This is what you came to do. See you in Asgard, Schmoo. And your bloodied sword falls upon the brave warrior you conquer.
In Berkeley, we have "the fun zone." The fun zone is a moving location centered around someone who has entered Berzerker Fury. When you are in the fun zone, you engage only with what lies directly in front of you. You do so honestly, with no thought of cost. With each drink you slay, and each person you carry on your back; with each new friend you make, and each intense dance move you bust; with each party you drunk-fu your way into, and each ex you interact with, you dive deeper into the fun zone and your berzerker rage becomes more furious.
In the fun zone, you gain a natural momentum and pull bystanders into your wake as you carve a path through the night. Everyone to witness you can see the fun zone blazing around you and feels its pull. You will make more friends in the fun zone than you could in any classroom, coffee house or dormitory. It should be mentioned that the fun zone can be achieved in those environments, though with considerable risk. You will look everyone in the eyes, and develop new personal handshakes with many of your friends, and especially your new ones. You will create and discover new slang, and realize you know the words to more songs than you previously thought. You will find within yoruself a deep well of ambiguous school spirit and with it you will entertain every passerby to behold you.
None of these people will take it personally. You are as transparent as the person who asks you if you have a minute for the environment.
In a few years, when we enter Asgard[the working world], achieving a job, a home and a family, we will each think about our time in the fun zone. When we meet later, in the halls of Valhalla, we will drink and make merry. We will look one another straight in the eyes, and we will reflect on this time, and we will both be very glad.
No comments:
Post a Comment