A note from another angry alum

Dear President Price,

As an esteemed, geriatric and obscenely wealthy alumnus, I’ve taken it upon myself to once again write a tediously long, rambling letter expressing an opinion that no one requested or desires to read. It seems particular fitting given your recent official induction into the Duke family. Under the tenure of Brodhead, I’ve watched the beloved university—where I studied, dodged the draft and was hazed into emotional instability—transform into a liberal cesspool. The Gothic Wonderland I once held so close to my heart is now overrun with snarky women studying physics and politics of all things! In recent years, I have withheld my donations in light of the distressing transformation of my beloved alma mater into a hive of Marxist thought and homosexuality. However, with the end of Dick’s tenure, I’m confident that we can finally address the new direction Duke desperately needs. The students need leadership like yours to return Duke to its glory days. I can’t think of a more inspiring figure than you: white, old and unwaveringly loyal to the stock portfolio of the university. Now is the opportunity to earn back my support. For your convenience, I’ve compiled a small list of said grievances.

First and foremost, the campus architecture can only be described as a bastardized cross between the Chadley Chateau in the Riviera and my private Bauhaus villa in Bavaria. On their own, both are delightful to the senses. But at some point, this university has to decide whether or not it’ll be a Gothic Wonderland where the best and brightest brood or an ever-expanding glass box with, admittedly, impeccable selfie lighting. Personally, I prefer the latter when I drive up Campus Drive in my chauffeured porsche for alumni weekend. And indeed, I do not have the words to describe my disappointment with the dullness of the West Campus lawn. We need greener grass; more vibrant, no matter the cost! May I remind you that Harvard is importing its grass from the Brazilian pampas?

Furthermore, the quality of students on this campus has obviously dropped since the Class of 1963. They take useless majors, like history or literature, and spend too much time making “dank, duke-specific memes” instead of actually studying. Back in my day, you could always be sure to find an Andover man at Duke ready to work for Bain instead of these soft public school kids who want to work for the Peace Corps or some useless non-profit. Moreover, these dorms obviously leave much to be desired. My grandson, Leonard Chadley VI, even wrote to me asking that I donate a wine cellar to his section, since obviously Duke is unable to provide for its students! I also suggest on expanding the wooden paddle fund for Greek life in order to continue the legacy of producing masculine Duke men.

While I’m on the subject, the composition of our student body has me trembling in my titanium, gold-encrusted knee replacements. For one, women are on West Campus now, shamelessly flaunting their bare ankles to defenseless Duke men. The names of our students now average almost three syllables, two more than I’m willing to spend my time pronouncing. Whatever happened to “Jack” or “James”? Furthermore, the food at the Brodhead Center is clearly way too over-seasoned! May I remind you that half of Duke remains unable to process such piquancy? How about some traditional dishes with mayonnaise and saltine crackers for once?

Lastly, I feel the need to inform you that the editorial board is simply crawling with communists! A dose of McCarthyism is important for our university.

Affronted,

Leonard Chadley IV, Class of 1963