1st rule of fight club...

This post is influenced by the most recent controversy to take place in Clemson, SC. I have no interest in getting into a racial debate over whether this party was racist or not, my intention is to give commentary on the progression of the collegiate party experience, more specifically, the

I am thrown back in time about 4 or 5 years during my time at Clemson as a member of the undergraduate student body. While nothing as "controversial" as the MLK party ever became a national news headline, themed parties have been a constant in Clemson, nay, any university across the country. I personally helped organize a "Frat Party" where participants arrived to the festivities draped in khakis and white long-sleeve dress shirts. Accessories included Ray Bans, Rainbow Sandals, bow ties, and trust funds. To date, there have been no protests, no lawsuits, no demonstrations against our party. We did take pictures at the party, but digital media had not yet reached its zenith. Digital photos were sent via email as attachments, but they weren't posted at a universal site for all to see.

The age of communication and globalization that we exist in doesn't allow for discretion of events that were once left to the haziness of a broken, inebriated, sudo-reality which often begged the question, "Did that really happen?" Throwing up off of the balcony of your friend's apartment after a night of Jello shots, Jager Bombs, and Taco Bell has now become the next hot item on YouTube. Video phones and megapixels are now commonplace. We record everything: tv shows, parties, births, weddings, bat-mitzvahs...today, instead of people saying, "You remember that time we got so hammered we molested that concrete pig?" we say, "Look at these pictures and this HD video of us molesting that concrete pig after the night we got hammered!" Memory is no longer an issue. The great thing about photos, not digital pictures, was that they sparked the memory. The recollection of an event can be so much more powerful than the re experience of it.

The moral of the story is: Sometimes its better to just remember rather than watch unedited footage of stupid shit you have done. I guarantee you it will come back to bite you in the ass.