While most of you are probably relieved to have exited Columbia's campus, free of Butler and Lerner for an entire summer, there's an entire generation of earnest young people who just can't wait for August. They were born in 1990, their SATs were probably out of 48,000, and we're calling them the Terrible 12s.

Every now and then Bwog likes to take a look at their Facebook activities, and oh what a bevy of activity there's been! A certain hyper-social member of the the Columbia - Class of 2012 group who calls himself "Stephan" has already volunteered his Carman room for a party the first night of Orientation, giving ResLife nearly three months to prepare for the task of breaking up the party.

Within another group, this one dedicated to the good folk of Carman, "Stephan", who Bwog can only hope is an English major, again advertises his fete by announcing: "we r throwin da sickest party to get the year started rite.... Carman the sexyest dorm house ever.... we're goin show these other dorms who runs shit..."

Other burning questions amongst the Terrible 12s on the "2012" group include marijuana (answer, according to one: "DO IT, DUH.") and the virtues of their own individuality ("I beat all the varsity girls [but a couple] on the crew team on my erg score [rowing machines, for those who aren't familiar with ergs] my freshman year.")

Looking forward to meeting you, 12s! See you at Stephan's party.

Living in Carman can sometimes resemble wading through a disaster zone. Last night was one of those times. Freshman flood survivor Kurt Kanazawa reports:

Last night, the explosion of a hot water pipe in the bathroom of suite 1103 set off a fire alarm and covered half the floor with about an inch of water. Only one person in the suite was in town - Nicholas. Residents immediately helped Nicholas evacuate
his and his suitemate's room, pulling out bottom drawers, snack kits underneath the bed, light/laptop/cellphone chargers, carpet, refrigerator etc.. The flood also spread and invaded about 2 other suites on the floor, whose damage varied.

While inactive authorities stood on the outside observing, students - some friends of the suitemates, others complete strangers - lifted their pants and got their shoes wet to get things out, stacking them all in the hall near the elevator. Many tourist-students attempted to exit the elevator to observe the damage and were shoved back into the elevator by campus security.

In which ex-freshman Parker Fishel imparts his first-year dorm wisdom.

Carman

There is a magnetism about Carman that tends to polarize its residents.

There are some that are fiercely loyal to the residence hall, almost to the point of confrontational. They will hear nothing of the overflowing trash bins and it's resulting stench, nor the overpowering debauched bacchanalia of the place. To them, this is just the ambiance and you couldn't get a better I'm in New York City! Freshman Year! No Parents! Let's Party! vibe anywhere else in the city (well, okay, probably at NYU, but those damn hipsters would never admit it).

The other sect of Carman's residents begin to reveal themselves progressively throughout the year, though never to fellow Carman-ites who would take the slightest hint of negativity as high treason. These are the kids who find the whole scene kind of, well, grotesque. You'll find them nesting in Butler, Lerner, anywhere that isn't Carman and when you ask them where they live they say "Carman" with reluctance.

But hey, to each their own.

I would, however, like to leave you with my favorite Carman anecdote. One Tuesday night, I was going up to a friend's on the 6^th floor to borrow an air mattress. In the elevator was a girl who looked a little weirded out; I soon found out why. On the floor of the elevator was a piece of toilet paper with smeared excrement on it (to put it nicely). I can't say whether this in particular was a common occurrence, but I can say that it was gross. Needless to say, I took the stairs back down.

Because Bwog knows you're not really going to Tom's with your OL group. (You know you don't have to, right?) Here, several upperclassmen recall what they did on their first night of college.

My best friend from high school arrived at NYU the day before and he had already made friends with Haley Joel Osment. I called my friend and met up with him, Haley, and Haley's entourage at a club in meatpacking where the 7 of us were given three bottles of vodka and an assortment of juices- all free. This was just after his DUI. --BC '10

I didn't have a computer that first night, so I was writing a letter by hand to a friend to tell her how college was going so far, when I looked out the window of my room in Wallach to see a bunch of freshmen from John Jay 5 staring back at me, motioning for me to come outside with them for a party on the lawn. I grabbed my suitemate and walked to the steps with our new friends. We were still wearing our pajamas. I thought "This is college -- wearing your pajamas outside." -- CC'09

Someone calling herself Reni Laine (the suspicious name was not found on Facebook nor the Columbia Directory, her name's there Bwog just can't spell) sent Bwog a music video, about, of all things, Frontiers of Science. "Sexy ladies, get out your calculators...we're gonna do a little thing called a...back of the envelope calculation."

Though it was most obviously filmed against the cinder blocks of a Carman double, Bwog commends the sophisticated lighting techniques -- flashlights and Christmas decorations.The sexy fadeout of Frontiers lecturer Darcy Kelley's sensuous voice may just keep you awake in class on Monday.

UPDATE: Reni has a myspace, apparently she tours and just released a CD. Also, Bwog consulted a first-year--apparently the video is the product of an extra credit assignment, in which the tykes had the option to express themselves "artistically" about everyone's favorite science requirement.

An email from Dean Colombo to Carman residents reveals that some homophobic graffiti was applied to the pillar outside the freshman dorm on February 11th, and was removed about a week later. Colombo's email, reproduced below the jump, asserts that the slow response time in dealing with such incidents will be looked into in the future and improved. In the meantime, the administration has met with student council representatives and LGBTQ community leaders, and will be hosting events meant to address the issue. An investigation has also been launched with Public Safety.

Bwog continues to look into the incident and is awaiting further details from Dean Colombo. One pressing question: the pillar is visible and accessible to anyone walking through that part of campus, so why have (apart from the aforementioned student leaders) only Carman residents been involved thus far?

-CJS

Wednesday night saw a beginning of sorts to the CCSC election season — the first of three information sessions for prospective candidates in Carman Lounge. Spotted at the meeting were '08 VP Michelle Diamond and '09 President George Krebs — widely considered the frontrunners for the CCSC Presidency, should they decide to run — as well as other current Class Council members from each class and some fresh faces, including SGB treasurer Jonathan Siegel.

As Subash Iyer, Chair of the CCSC Elections Board, discussed the at-large positions, interest flagged somewhat; there didn't seem to be many potential Student Services Representatives in the room. "If you want people to take you seriously as candidates, ask us questions," Subash urged. A long and somewhat awkward silence fell over the room, broken only when Krebs asked why the schedule for the elections had been moved up this year (the elections are to be held March 28 and 29 to accommodate religious holidays, said Iyer).

But the most telling question came from Diamond, who asked when candidates may start asking for endorsements. (She, and her fellow candidates, were advised to begin seeking endorsements before midterms.) Meanwhile, Krebs has told friends that he plans to show up at the next two information sessions. Candidates are only required to attend one, but further visits would allow him to scope out his competition. Only forty-nine days until the election... let the games begin.

More photos after the jump!

Women must overcome shortness, queen bees, and Barbie in their epic quest for tenure

Freshman fornication facilitated? Lactation station rouses male curiosity, Carman pride

Sex columnist informs us being frightened of subway rats not necessarily gay, quotes...other sex columnist, who discusses (why not?) class implications of kinkiness

GS student: I'm not part of a Star Trek villain-race! I'm just "the scruffy Julie over here on the Aloha Deck"!

Masonary decapitation...it's art!

Media Watch BONUS: NY Times metro section editorial kinda gently blasts M'ville expansion for potential post-gentrification property price hikes...and for using "archaic" word "Manhattanville"

This year's dorm themes make Bwog want to live in all of the dorms at once!

East Campus' Diverse and Tolerant!: Most Cuddly

Continued after the jump!

No more CUnity this year. Orientating first-years, who arrived at Columbia a few years too late to have Edward Said tell them that they have in fact been Occidentating all along, instead had BlaZe--a kind of scavenger hunt / color war hybrid--sending them screaming across campuses on both sides of Broadway. Naturally, Bwog was there, in the form of correspondents Andrew Russeth and Marc Tracy.

The event was everywhere, and nowhere. A hula hoop race—quick, everyone hold hands! now pass a hula hoop around your circle without not holding hands!—in front of the B School. Sudoku in Upper Mac. Beirut and Quarters, at, respectively, Barnard Lawn and the basement of Mac—except with cheap cola instead of cheap beer. Word games in front of Philosophy, posted to The Thinker (get it?). All done by forty teams spread out in five colors ( e.g., Yellow 1, Red 3, Bwog favorite Green 5).

We had been told the name of the event—BlaZe—carried humorous connotations. Puzzled by this, we put on our reporting caps and asked around. "Fire and fun," an OL offered, on what BlaZe meant to her. "Pouring gasoline on people and lighting them on fire," another, perhaps the younger brother of the McBain arsonist, told us. "I don't know," demurred another student, inexplicably adding, "I don't smoke." And then there was the first-year who, as we talked to her during something of a traffic jam behind Earl Hall, insisted, "You know what we're thinking." Um, no, not really.

In which frequent Bwog contributor J.J.V Neun expounds on the importance of knowing Columbia's most magnanimous employees.

There will come a time when you just win the beer pong competition at the West End with your old, sketchy friend from high school, and after stumbling back to your John Jay dorm and collapsing into alcoholic oblivion, that same sketchy friend takes a sharpie and writes graffiti all over your hallway. No problem! you might say. How will they trace it back to you? Fun fact: when your RA sees your name on the wall, you're somehow implicated. Always. Write that down.

And that's when I realized that the most useful person to know at Columbia was not my RA, not Wilma the Omelet Lady, not PrezBo himself, but a stout, middle-aged man named Armando. He, and the other unionized, bonded, dutiful members of Columbia's janitorial staff hold the key (in this case, it took the form of a kick ass spray-on stain remover that melted the paint on the walls and was imported illegally from Moldova) to getting you out of a housing fine.

Because I looked at Armando with respect, smiled, and never complained about his whistling, he provided extra garbage bags and soap, and never minded when we almost set the building on fire, or when I stumbled into the bathroom he had just shut down for cleaning for a five minute shower before a meeting with my advisor.