VIEWPOINT Tools, Dave Matthews and New Jersey: a Random Mix By Josh Zumbrun

Students at Georgetown talk differently. Being from Northern Indiana I was blissfully unaware of many words that dominate conversation and culture at Georgetown. The differences extend across all walks of life, from socializing or politics to music and sports. There are no topics where I can avoid these bizarre additions to the English language. But, now that I am fully versed in some of these complicated turns of phrase, I feel obligated to share my reflections on my new, improved vocabulary.

Just look at insulting. One of the most poignant, stinging insults that Georgetown students deliver is “tool.” I really ought to hesitate in calling my vocabulary improved because, eight months after convocation, I still have no idea what this means. The insult seems to work in any context. Teaching assistants that assign lots of papers are tools. Students who work hard are tools. Students who are nice tend to be tools. Newspaper columnists reluctantly admit that they themselves are indeed tools or cleverly observe that everyone else is a tool. Fred Durst is definitely a tool. I often call people “tools” because I like to exhibit my proficiency with such jargon when I am actually sketched-out by its randomness.

Or maybe I am just not appreciative of its versatility? No, I am a big fan of versatility. Just look at the way I seamlessly meshed “sketched-out” and “randomness” into the same sentence. One thing I have learned at Georgetown is that every Friday night is either “totally random” or “totally sketchy.” For example: “Oh man, we were at this sketchy, random party last weekend and, like, the most random person started talking to us. My friend was completely gone so she wasn’t sketched-out at all, and she kept randomly saying all these totally random things, but, like, she’s a really random person even when she’s sober.”

Those words sure are versatile! Examine the word “random.” Modifying “party” it is derogatory. The random person is merely unknown. When used as an adverb it conveys that the friend’s thoughts were disconnected. When used to modify “things” it was simply redundant. Ultimately, the friend’s randomness is something laudable since being random is a source of great pride at Georgetown – being random is almost as great as being from New Jersey.

I always thought New Jersey was just a state in the Union, but I was mistaken: New Jersey is a state of mind. I hear that everyone hates New Jersey, so New Jersey people have to stick together. I suspect most people simply do not think of New Jersey like South Dakota or Maine. However, being close to New York, a place that others actually care about, people in New Jersey deny their irrelevance by pretending to be despised. Surviving childhood in New Jersey must be some great accomplishment, because no other Americans brandish their home state’s name with such unabated pride. I think that when someone claims they are from New Jersey the correct response is, “Good job, congratulations!”

So, how can you tell if someone at Georgetown is really cool? Not whether they prefer “random” parties to “sketchy” parties. Even if you are not a “tool,” you have not reached Georgetown’s social epoch unless you listen to Dave. “Dave who?” was my response the first time somebody inquired whether I liked him. “You know, DMB!”The department of motor .?” I wondered. “Come on, Josh. Don’t you have Dave Matthews in Indiana?” Oh, the Dave Matthews Band. We have that. The song Crash was a big hit – for two months in 1996.

Georgetown, you should be ashamed. The state of Indiana is five years ahead of you. “I’m the king of the castle, you’re the dirty rascal” – who thought that lyric was cool? Going to Georgetown should have enriched my vocabulary, not stupefied it. Why, as college students, are we unable to find terms less vacuous than “tool” and “random” to describe people? Hammers are tools. Dice are random. And for God’s sake, nobody cares if you are from New Jersey.

Josh Zumbrun is a freshman in the School of Foreign Service.