The Fulton Hall Manifesto
Written by Christopher Deleo
With help from Joseph Levy

For all those who may not recall, either from lack of memory or general ignorance, there was once a time when Fulton Hall shone anew, a fresh, clean slate, from which brilliant life emanated. It was from this tabula rasa that the glorious chaos soon to become the Fulton Hall way would arise. All this in the spirit of sport, sex, mirth, and merriment. All for shits and giggles.

Alas, those times now seem a fading memory. Some of you may think to yourself, "What is he talking about?" You don't know of the water, the blood, the vomit, the shit... the hydrochloric acid with which our majestic hall was adorned. How many times could Fultonites be written up in a given week? How often would a Five Quad ambulance be spotted outside our windows? Have we traded in Nokieball for freewrite?1

It was that all Presidential Scholars could identify each other on sight. Of course those were the days of sixty scholars. Now our numbers have risen to 250, but does this mean we must resign our elitism, as another campus group undeserving of the privileges granted to us?

This is not the way it is going to be! All freshmen had better be on guard, for soon they too will be initiated into the true ways of the Presidential Scholars. We hope, however, that this is what they long for.

It is time to recapture the Fulton Hall experience and all that it stands for. I ask of you now, my fellow Scholars, rise up and reclaim the noble heritage of our earlier years, make this the proud home it once was, and resist the natural forces fighting to reduce Fulton to the status of just another residence hall.

Let us bring back naked Santa Clauses running rampant through the halls. Let us bring back the bad fashion of Presidential Scholars past. Let us above all bring back the chaos that made this the greatest place to reside at this pathetic University.

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1. This sentence was grudgingly changed to "Have we traded in Nokieball for masturbation?" shortly before presentation, in order to avoid alienating the people involved in free-write. (Some of our best minds were among them.)

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