For those people not in fraternities, there is a short list of things that they’ve gathered from the myth surrounding the Greek community – such as Bacchanalian orgies in the basement (false), underground tunnel systems throughout the Oklahoma State campus (true), secret handshakes (false), or hidden networks of rich industrialists all striving for world domination (true).  And perhaps the most notorious of all is the dreaded Black Ball.  Tradition has held that in secret societies, membership was decided upon a secret vote and voting against a candidate meant slipping a black ball into the voting cannister.

Ooh, scary.

Well, in truth, this was not how my fraternity (FIJI) decided who its new members were – we would just play Pledge Invaders with frozen water balloons until the losers quit (or were knocked unconscious).  Still as long as non-brothers still thought that the Black Ball was the primary means of determining membership, then why wouldn’t my pal, Glock, and I have some fun with it.

Enter Wes Reed.

Hazing = Fun!

Any community of young men is going to have a nefarious nature.  Add in sexy sorority girls (sometimes not so sexy – but slutty works just as well) and cheap, watered-down Oklahoma beer.  BAM!  Fraternity.  Video games and robes optional.

A staple of the fraternity life was Hazing.  This is where you use psychological torment and physical punishment on the perspective brothers, i.e. pledges, to help mold them into suitable initiates.  Does whacking someone across the ass with a wooden paddle make them into a better student or a more effectual young man?  Of course not.  It’s just fun to do it.  Plus, who else is going to clean the toilets?

Of course, hazing is illegal.  Fraternities are no longer supposed to abuse signees and pledges.  No one is allowed to do it – even the sororities aren’t allowed to haze (mud wrestling, I assume).  Personally, I blame the Beta’s for ruining it for the rest of us.  They just had to make their hazing revolve around man-man nakedness and genitals.  Ick.

Notice I didn’t say rushees and that’s because rushees are still in the courtship mode where the brothers will lie about how great their house is (exhibit A: the Pikes).  Only once you move in and see the hot girls streaming through the lofty corridors of the chapter house will the beatings begin.

And is the case with all crimes … it is only illegal if you get caught.  Hehe.

Glock

I’ve mentioned this guy and his antics a few times on my blog, most notably here and here.  He is my pledge brother, a fellow ill-fated Upsilon.  He was our pledge class president, though I feel that his election results were as tainted as George W. Bush’s in Miami-Dade County.  But frankly I would be disappointed in him if he didn’t try to rig the election.  That’s Glock.

As a pledge, he was boastful, disrespectful, and arrogant.  During our pledge days, Glocky naturally attracted a lot of attention.  One memorably moment, a brother got in his face and threatened to “goat rape” him if he didn’t wipe the smile off of his face.  I have no idea what “goat raping” entails, but admittedly I’m still eager to see it.  I think Danny Holland has done it a few times, I’ll ask him.  To Glock’s credit though, he never stopped smirking.

So … when he became a brother, Glock was perhaps a little more eager than most to flex his brotherly muscles.

Poor Wesley

There was a character in Star Trek: The Next Generation that was a boy-faced crewman that was smarter than all of the others, except for Data of course.  His name was Wesley Crusher.  In the Fall of 1999, we added a Wesley of our own.  In many ways, they were very similar, such as the inability to grow facial hair (or even peach fuzz sideburns).  The difference was that our Wes only thought he was smarter than every than everyone else.

I remember talking to him at a rush function.  I was there for free pizza and to do my duty to the house in helping recruit new members.  Afterall, when you want to make a good impression … you want The Rob front and center, right?  Hello?  I remember that Little Wes said maybe four words in our entire conversation … and covered his pizza slice in an absurd amount of parmigiano cheese.  So I thought … okay, he’s shy.  No worries, the house will help bring him out of his shell.

Fast forward a few months.

The Fall semester was just about to start.  Brothers and signees were allowed into the house a week early – to fix up their rooms, move in their stuff, etc.  Wes signed with our house.  Turns out that he wasn’t so shy after all.  In the first few weeks of the semester, Wes was doing a lot of talking.  Talking out of the side of his mouth with a perpetual smirk on his face in the way a genius might in dealing with morons.

Glock noticed immediately, like a bloodhound on a fresh scent.

You’re Fooked

Still early in the semester and Glock and I are goofing off one day.  The signees were still signees and not pledges (shh … secret stuff).  Glock and I are bored.  And we had this conversation …

Me:  Dude, I’m bored.

Glock:  Well, Chico, wanna watch Good Will Hunting again?

Me:  Nah.  Twice today is enough.

Glock:  Wanna play Mario Cart?

Me:  Nah.  Bo broke one of the controls when I smited his ass with the magic mushroom.

Glock:  Wanna go fuck with Wes Reed?

Me: Okay!

And so it began.  We climbed the stairs to the third floor to 3 Alpha were Wes was playing the Sims or something on his computer.  Glock and I shared a look as we walked in, a silent message of improvisation.  Wes looked up at us, smirking, and offered a simple hello without leaving his computer.

Here’s what happened next:

Glock:  Wes, we need to talk.  It’s important.

Me:  Yeah, very important.

Wes:  Oh really?  (standing up, a bit confused)

Glock:  So the brothers took a secret vote and you just got a black ball.

Wes:  What?  Really?

Me:  Yep, a big … black … ball.

Wes: (clutching his face) Oh no!  But what … what did I do?

Glock:  A lot of the brothers don’t like your attitude.  You’re too cocky and it has pissed some people off.

Me:  Pissing off the brothers is not a good thing, Wes.  Not good at all.

Glock:  Listen to brother Chico.  Your pledge educator will tell you this later, but basically you’ve got a strike against you.  You are now on probation.  You get one more black ball and you’re kicked out forever.

Me:  Forever, dude.

Wes:  Man … its only the second week … I’ll never make it!  (he sits down on his bed, devastated)

I don’t remember how long we let him wiggle on the hook, but eventually we told him that it was all bullshit.  I’d like to say that was the only time we messed with Poor Wes, but it’d be a lie.  He became Glock’s project for the semester … well, more than that.  He became Glock’s project for a bit longer … I think Wes became his senior year thesis in mental torture.

Eventually, Wes was initiated and became a full brother.  I think the jury is still out if Wes ever became cool.  Maybe if weak side burns became cool …