An intellectual touchdown at the football game

Intellectualism is dead. Across the campus, students in the dorms, dining halls and eating clubs are forgoing insight into molecular structure and ethical value in exchange for chatter of pop princesses and 80s flicks. Discussions of religious morality have been replaced by evaluations of fantasy football, and reliable quotations are now cited from Bill Simmons rather than C. S. Lewis. Somehow, somewhere, intellectualism died, most likely from the embarrassment of lacking depth in roundtable discussions. Frist's table talks are breezy, Mathey's fireside chats are flighty and professors' office hours are mere planning periods. But there is hope.

On campus, there are students dedicated to providing intellectual stimulation, if nothing else. They are the few. The loud. The band.

This weekend, as the Homecoming football game surged, members of the Yale and Princeton bands competed back and forth over the roar of a decent crowd of students and a monsoon of alumni. While neither band overpowered the stadium, by any means, during the game, their halftime shows attracted attention of student, child,and alumnus alike.

Yale began the battle by paying homage to 1987. 1987. A notable year. I was four. Apparently brighter things happened, and the Yale band proceeded to lead the recollecting alumni and bewildered students through a montage of memories disguised as a band's halftime show. Among snippets of music came quips of Nancy Reagan, Argentina, Gorbachev and sexual promiscuity in the 80s. "Nancy" lectured on the "corrupting taint of Marxism" in a speech that could have appeared from behind the seemingly stagnant podium of McCosh 50:

"My husband Ronald Reagan is leading us to victory against the evil empire with the help of staunch allies like Iraqi President Saddam Hussein, who is combating our enemies in Iran, and the brave Mujaheeden of Afghanistan who struggle against godless communist invaders for their religious freedom . . . Remember kids, just say no to communism, because you're better dead than red." Her voice faded away as members of the band ran to form the letters "USSR." Not your average halftime show.

In the past, Princeton's own band has striven to perform shows depicting, and often mocking, current events both on campus and around the world. In a 2000 show during the Lehigh game, the band portrayed Princeton Survivor and rejected ideas for the 2000 Olympic Summer games. They finished closer to home, touching on the future of Frist Campus Center, "Construction will be completed on the monorail or aqueduct or Stonehenge or whatever the hell that thing is, the administration will force the multipurpose room to choose a single purpose though it can still get a certificate in another purpose, and the class of 2050 will finally figure out how to open those damn mailboxes."

Later, the band pondered Hillary Clinton's role should she be elected into the senate, "Following in the footsteps of Jesse 'The Body' Ventura, no one has higher hopes for the election that Hillary 'The Wife' Clinton." Her plans for a more comfortable stay in the Big Apple? "Lincoln Center will become the Grand Ol' Metropolitan Opry, Soho will be renamed 'Soo-eey!' and the Stock Exchange will be converted to the Livestock Exchange, ensuring that it'll always be a bull market."

So maybe it's not "intellectualism" as it was originally intended, but it is hard to argue that these particular halftime shows would be less welcome at state university games, or any other Ivy League for that matter. In fact, it's doubtful to believe that humor referencing war, current congressional proposals or assessments of the Bush campaign would be so well received at any athletic head-to-head other than Princeton and Yale. And it's not because it's offensive, or because Princeton kids are better, but maybe just simply because we're all nerds at heart — nerds who hate to admit their love for intellectualism and so prefer to have it disguised in the marching band's presentation. "What's the solution for Prospect Street? They napalmed the whole thing — 'Dude, I got bombed last night.'"

That's not to say that every instep movement of the band produces Nobel Prize winning debate. After all, I for one would be happy to discuss the merits of Bush as the "Evil Southerner," but the idea that "God Wears Orange?" That's an indisputable fact.

Ashley Johnson is an English major from Florence, Ala.