As the 2023/24 academic year comes to a close, we all find ourselves reflecting on the key moments which made it what it was. For me, as for all of you, many of those moments involved the ghost of Milo P. Jewett, first President of Vassar, appearing and sharing words of wisdom. Here are the top 5 wise things that the ghost of Milo P. Jewett said to me this year, ranked from least wise to most wise. I hope that they provide you with as much help and guidance as they did for me this year.
#5: “E=mc2.”
In hindsight, this one was not actually all that wise. I was sitting in my chemistry midterm, and the very last question required me to use the formula for photosynthesis, which I did not know even a little bit.
“Damn,” I said. “What is the formula for photosynthesis?”
It was then that the ghost of Milo P. Jewett appeared to me and spoke, his voice booming through the lecture hall like thunder.
“E=mc2,” he said, before vanishing into thin air.
I was pretty sure at the time that this was not in fact the formula for photosynthesis, but I’m ashamed to say that it was a desperate enough moment for me to take him at his word. I plugged the terms of question into E=mc2 as best I could, handed in my test and left the exam room. I looked it up later, and it turns out that E=mc2 is actually Albert Einstein’s equation for mass-energy equivalence, which is not even close to what I needed.
I didn’t even get partial credit on that question. Thanks for nothing, Milo.
#4: “If you will establish a real college for girls and endow it, you will build for yourself a monument more lasting than the pyramids; you will perpetuate your name to the latest generations; it will be the pride and glory of Poughkeepsie; and honor to the state, and a blessing to the world.”
This one is a solid quote, but in context it was kind of a non sequitur. Early one morning, I heard a tremendous noise and I woke up with a start to find the ghost of Milo P. Jewett looming over me. Through the remaining fog of sleep, I mumbled something unintelligible, but he completely ignored me and said:
“If you will establish a real college for girls and endow it, you will build for yourself a monument more lasting than the pyramids; you will perpetuate your name to the latest generations; it will be the pride and glory of Poughkeepsie; and honor to the state, and a blessing to the world.”
I mean, sure, but I’m not sure what I was supposed to do with that information. I looked it up, and apparently that was part of what he said to encourage Matthew Vassar to endow a college in Poughkeepsie rather than a hospital. I can’t afford to endow either of those things, so this one was kind of wasted on me. I’m also a little offended that he’s recycling quotes on me rather than providing original material. Milo, I’m sorry, but this is another miss.
#3: “D-Backs in six.”
Actually, on reflection, this one wasn’t particularly wise either. One night, some friends and I were talking about the upcoming World Series between the Texas Rangers and the Arizona Diamondbacks and making predictions. I hadn’t spoken yet, and was considering what to say. Neither team had been expected to make it as far as the Fall Classic, and though the Diamondbacks had an exciting young lineup, the Rangers’ thrilling seven-game defeat of their state rivals the Houston Astros was fresh in my mind.
These were the thoughts running through my mind when the ghost of Milo P. Jewett once again appeared in front of me and began to speak.
“D-Backs in six,” he intoned imperiously.
That seemed plausible. Corbin Carroll and co. were a fun team to watch, and a 4-2 series win seemed like a reasonable enough outcome. It didn’t occur to me at the time that Jewett, who died in 1882, would probably not have been aware of the 2023 ban on the shift and introduction of the pitch clock to Major League Baseball, let alone all the other rule changes that occurred in the 140-odd years prior.
I repeated his words, confident in the prediction, and the Rangers went on to defeat the Diamondbacks four games to one, making me look like an idiot. I didn’t even ask for Milo P. Jewett’s help in the first place. I guess he just wanted to feel included.
#2: “Do, or do not. There is no try.”
Okay, actually, forget about the “ranked least to most wise” thing, because I’m remembering some of the things the ghost of Milo P. Jewett said to me this year and he’s really starting to irritate me in hindsight. This one came during one weekend during cricket practice. I dropped an easy catch and started berating myself, and all of a sudden, the ghost of Milo P. Jewett appeared to a fanfare of spectral trumpets.
“Do, or do not,” he said. “There is no try.”
Not only did I find this profoundly unhelpful at the time, but I immediately recognized it as a quote spoken by the great Jedi master Yoda in the classic 1980 film The Empire Strikes Back. Even in its original context, I find this quote a little condescending, but I have to admit that Yoda really pulls it off. He’s an ancient little green guy with immense charisma, and when he says something like this you just have to nod your head and smile. Coming from the ghost of Milo P. Jewett, though—a bespectacled, white-bearded theologian—this quote really grates. Also, not only is he recycling quotes, but now he’s straight-up plagiarizing them too? Seems like somebody needs to take another look at Going to the Source: A Guide to Academic Integrity and Attribution at Vassar College, by Rebecca Edwards, Matt Schultz, Debra Bucher and David T. Bradley.
#1: “Don’t you dare publish that article, you insolent little…”
This article was originally going to be titled “top 4 wise things that the ghost of Milo P. Jewett said to me this year,” but then he came in at the last minute with one I knew that I had to include. I guess he realized that the article didn’t paint him in the most flattering light, so just as I was about to send this off to the editors of The Miscellany News, the ghost of Milo P. Jewett appeared.
He really pulled out all the stops this time. The spectral trumpets and tremendous noise from some of his previous appearances were back, but now they were accompanied by a flickering of the lights and a spine-chilling wind for increased effect. I was sitting on my bed putting the finishing touches on the article when he appeared and roared:
“Don’t you dare publish that article, you insolent little…”
I didn’t hear the rest of what he said, because I had scurried under my bed in fright, but I can only assume that he didn’t take kindly to the contents of this article. Despite my initial fear, I was determined to push forward and take the article to print to show that bold investigative journalists like myself cannot be intimidated into silence. I’m a little concerned about what this interaction implies, though—either the ghost of Milo P. Jewett is watching me all the time and read this over my shoulder, or he has access to the contents of my Google Drive. Can we get Computing and Information services to look into this?