(If you didn’t get the reference.)

My suspicions were first aroused about 2:30 AM the day of the prank.  I was visiting a friend (named Elizabeth, inevitably) in her room when I saw a familiar cream-colored card being used as a coaster for a beer.  It was an invitation, adorned with the Lizzie’s falcon crest and font, to a party with other Elizabeths, advertising refreshments, Turkey-salad sandwiches, and a talk by Justin Zaremby. It was to start at 4:30, and cocktail attire was requested. A tell-tale epigraph even adorned the bottom.

It looked super-legit, but I hadn’t heard of any sort of event, and I didn’t think an opportunity to hear himself talk would be something that Zaremby would keep quiet about. (Joking. Whoa.)  The edge of the invitation was also frayed a bit too much, as though torn, and not cut, from a larger piece of paper.  I concluded that it must be a joke.  I didn’t tell my friend Elizabeth.

That afternoon at 4:30, the Elizabeths started to arrive, clutching their invitations and wearing all manner of cutesy cocktail dress. A couple Elizabethan Pundits had stationed themselves at the door and—here’s the best part—were handing out name-tags to all of the Elizabeths who came. As each Elizabeth signed the guestbook by the door, she added her name to a growing list of other Elizabeths.

The cat slowly got out of the bag. After at least twenty girls were there, and everybody figured out that it was an elaborate joke. The Elizabeths gathered on the back porch, where Zaremby, true to the invitation’s promise, gave a talk on “Name and Identity: Embracing Royalty,” only a few minutes after learning the topic.  He spoke eloquently about historically important Elizabeths—Queens Elizabeth I and II, and  Elizabeth Montgomery, who played Samantha Stephens on “Bewitched” for like forty seasons. He talked about why we call our presidents “Mr. President” and not “Your Majesty” (apparently there was some controversy). He even mentioned a certain eligible British bachelor in the audience, who promptly fled in adorable shame after hearing his name spoken.

We all applauded when the talk was over. It had lasted no more than six or seven minutes, but I decided that this was probably the best and most positive prank I’d ever seen pulled by the Pundits—even better than the Cross Campus monkeys.

(Although we’re not exactly sure it was
the twenty-third when he was born, because
the only date recorded is his baptism,
which happened on the twenty-sixth, so today
is just a guess.  But Shakespeare also died
on April twenty-third –– coincidence?)

I hope that Joe will join me in requesting
that commenters be forced to use this form
for any comments on the Yale Bullblog,
so figure it out, people.

Master Chun and the Yale College Dean’s Office will begin the search for a new Dean of Berkeley College immediately. The person fortunate enough to land the job won’t be quite like me—that would be both disturbing and redundant—but I know he or she will be just right for this place.

Sad face. Happy face? Melancholy face.

“It’s the easiest sale to make in front of a search committee,” Isaacson said. “Levin is a very effective president with a spectacularly successful endowment, one of the great reputations in the country and a centralized management team.” Yale “has become a talent hothouse,” he said.

It’s nice to know that there are good things happening that I have no idea about!  Salovey’s mustache didn’t get a mention, FYI.

VP candidate Kolata + her musical friend. Is this the same guy from her Youtube video?

For more coverage of the campaign, check out our Yale College Council page.

Click here for the video.

This list is actually a total sham and is based on entirely numeric factors (cost, acceptance rate, and somehow they have quantified “academic rigorousness”) and not on ambience or polls of students.  So we’d like to know: are you stressed out of your mind right now? Comment with your answer and let’s see if the Daily Beast has us pegged.