Students paid for 'alcohol initiative' comedian

A few weeks ago, the Class of 2003 ran a heavily advertised event sponsored by Princeton's very own Alcohol Initiative (so appropriately named!). The event was held in McCosh, and the large lecture hall was filled to capacity. Hypnotists are always good for a laugh, and, besides, there was free pizza at the end.

Before the hypnotist's act even began, there was a comedian, to get the audience warmed up, I guess. The event certainly hadn't been misrepresented: He was x-rated. He began with a few jokes making fun of Catholic schools. OK, no big deal, right? Everyone does that. Then he started joking about ugly girlfriends, fat girlfriends, stupid girlfriends. Whatever, not such an uncommon motif in college humor that it would really bother me. It was only when he made a joke about knocking his girlfriend out the window and followed it up with a story about getting a new girlfriend who happened to be a midget (and how that made the sex interesting) that I really started feeling uncomfortable in the audience. I'm not a midget, and I've never been knocked out the window, but I can think of people who are or have. They probably wouldn't think the jokes so funny.

Luckily for me, a guy in the row ahead of me stood up and walked out. He didn't make a lot of noise, but the look on his face told me he wasn't taking a bathroom break. He wouldn't be back. I had just enough nerve to follow suit, and I walked out with more of the same jokes hitting my back until I got out of the building.

It was a fairly confusing situation, to me at least. The event after all had been sponsored by the Princeton Alcohol Initiative . . . you know, that huge fund they use to bribe us to put off our drunken revelry for a few hours in exchange for somewhat more innocent entertainment (at least I thought so) and free food (sometimes even t-shirts).

While the whole idea of such an initiative and the way run needs another column entirely, I just want to get at the principle of what this event should have been. Whether or not they intended to, members of the University as a whole sanctioned everything that went on at that performance by paying for it, advertising for it heavily to get as many students as possible to attend, and making university facilities available for its occurrence. As you might guess, I'm as much for free speech as anyone, but I don't believe that all speech is deserving of all media (a sentiment I share with many members of the Princeton community).

Even more embarrassing than the fact that the event was initiated at all is the fact that — though it might have been planned without the knowledge of how offensive it would be (and if jokes about domestic violence during domestic violence awareness month are tolerated one can't help but question the value of such awareness campaigns and the strength of any beliefs in each of us) — we all sat there and listened to him. Silent inaction is as good as consent, and consent as good as approval. I wonder how many victims of domestic violence were in the audience, how many people with a handicapped family member. Were they amused, or did they sit through the performance hurting after a comedian trivialized awful events in their lives for some cheap laughs (and those are the cheapest kind)?

Whether or not they intended to do so, everyone involved in Princeton University sanctioned everything that comic did by tolerating his presence. The audience too, by their silence, and moreover by their their approving laughter, also sent the message not just to the comic but also to one another that such jokes are OK and even ought to be encouraged. We're supposed to be stronger than that. We're supposed to be the ones who stand up when something like that happens and say, "No, this isn't ok. It's not a laughing matter." It's not OK to joke about certain things, ever.

I know we all hear jokes like this, and most of us (including me) can't help but laugh at them. Yet I know we all realize that they're wrong, and that it would probably be embarrassing to us in a more thoughtful mood to reflect on the jokes we'd laughed at before. The fact is, though my real problem is with the jokes the comedian told, I really resent the University funding and community approval that he received. If he'd performed at an eating club, or if I heard those jokes from an acquaintance, the subject matter would be just as offensive. Yet it would not have had community sanction, and this approval from Princeton is what was so embarrassing (to say nothing of the fact that such a ridiculous bribe is thought best for keeping us off the 'Street' for a few hours).

That comedian came in, trivialized many of our espoused beliefs, and we sat there, applauded and laughed, and paid for it. Aileen Ann Nielsen is from Upper Black Eddy, Penn. She can be reached at anielsen@princeton.edu.