They're Called Final Clubs for a Reason

...because they're last place I'd want to be on even the most busted of nights.

Acknowledging my bias: I am a lady and one of mixed race (none of those races being white). So the predatory terror and hodgepodge of sketchiness that smears itself along the walls and floors of these godforsaken relics of OldWhiteHarvard is something that I may feel more acutely than some. Most smart girls avoid these places like a public toilet with an old poo stagnating in it. Even still, sometimes I just find myself there... no explanation for that. And also, no excuse:

um, yeah...

Sometimes they can be the only places you can "stand in a circle around our pocket book and shoes... I just wanna dance". Especially considering Boston is not poppin', just not. So hordes -or shall I say whoredz- of underage ladies bounce their nubile selves into these joints for the mild entertainment of strange men in tuxes and medallions, or beachwear and ratty flipflops and backwards caps. All of these poor slights a little mixed up and just desperate for the attention they don't get without being bent over a beer pong table. Most of them just peek in, looking for something or someone, hoping to satisfy a weak curiosity... and always ending up disappointed for one reason or another.

All the misogyny, elitism, classism, and racism aside*... Final Clubs, or Finals Clubs, are like so many other institutions at Harvard. They're just rapidly deteriorating in the original quality that once made them what they were. Like the Lampoon that used to be funny; or the Crimson that used to get you somewhere; or like the Harvard name that used to not be attached to a clothing line. Everything losing its polish or spark or initial je ne sais quoi. And while I could bash on the whole Final Club scene, it's almost like teasing a retard. Just sort of pathetic on my part, really. And while I sort of hope that they're secretly doing more than planning the next weekend's party theme in these centuries-old buildings (like something remotely cool/cinematic like money laundering, illegal gambling, art smuggling, or minor drug trade)... I think we all know that they're just homo-ly daydreaming about which superneato underclassman they want to "punch" this season.

*haha, as if!