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Many people complain about a lack of enthusiasm around Penn sports or a lack of excitement when one of Penn’s teams wins something. There is one clear and easy way to solve this: Bring back rowbottoms.
Student-athletes are getting worse grades than ever before.
Over the past year, Penn Athletics has taken advantage of the decreased traffic in their facilities due to COVID-19, making much-needed improvements to its historic playing fields, thanks to the help of some corporate sponsors (thanks, Wharton). Here are a few notable improvements to keep an eye out for when Penn’s campus starts to reopen.
Penn administrators and city leaders joined together Thursday morning, April 1, 2021, for a ribbon-cutting ceremony to officially kick off the construction of the campus' first sex dungeon. Due to COVID-19, there were limited in-person attendees for the kick-off event. President Amy Gutmann cut the rope alongside Ronald Perelman.
As the Board of Trustees of the University of Pennsylvania, we are often tasked with making the unpopular decisions — one such decision was mandating sophomores to purchase a dining plan. We heard your feedback saying that it was motivated by profit, considering that the pandemic has forced many families into a precarious financial position. As ashamed as we are to admit it, we are also in a precarious financial position: Due to a series of unwise financial decisions, Huntsman Hall is at risk of foreclosure.
Penn’s decision to host a partially in-person commencement on May 17, 2021 was received by many graduating seniors with appreciation and celebration. For many other students, however, the decision also led to anxiety and uncertainty regarding the date of commencement, which is the same day as the Jewish holiday Shavout, as well as Stephanie and her friend group’s flight to Bora Bora.
Since the beginning of time, rulers have attempted to not only maintain control over their kingdoms, but to expand and assert dominance over neighboring territories and oftentimes the whole world. Many have vied for this role in the modern age, but only one ruler has the courage to succeed today: Penn President Amy Gutmann.
Known for its undying commitment to the skinny Caucasian female population and its penchant for playing Frank Ocean’s 2012 album channel ORANGE in stores 24/7, Urban Outfitters, Inc. is a retail fashion chain store based in Philadelphia. The store’s target customers range from prepubescent, portly young adults who recently put the links to their VSCO pages in their Instagram bios to mentally ill second-year grad students who are considering applying for jobs at CoStar. Take a walk in Rittenhouse Square and you will spot many a young woman sporting head-to-toe Urban Outfitters attire, and you will think to yourself, “Girllll!”
On Wednesday March 31, President Amy Gutmann and the Board of Trustees finalized their plan to distribute vaccines to members of the Penn community. This comes in tandem with the University’s announcement that the fall 2021 semester will once again see in-person instruction.
Since the dawn of time, there has been privilege. First came the dinosaurs: There were those dinosaurs born with arms proportional to body size, and then there was the T-Rex. Then came the Pilgrims, some of whom happened to land on the beautiful shores of Maine, while others landed in Jersey. (Who the hell wants to land in Jersey?) And finally, here I am. A straight white male. Not only do I have arms proportional to my body size, but all of my limbs are proportional to my body size. I’m blessed, to say the least. But for some reason, now more than ever before, Penn students seem to be making an effort to stop misusing their privilege. Claiming that privilege is “unjust,” and “unfair,” students are beginning to support and raise awareness for the less fortunate. Penn students, I have one question: What the fuck are you doing?
In the latest scandal to hit Penn Athletics the “lacrosse” team has been suspended indefinitely for creating a fake sport.
The University of Pennsylvania is an 'Ivy League Institution,' which means it must be very selective and chooses only the very best candidates for admission. Throughout its 281 years of existence, the University admissions committee has done the very most to ensure that every class of Penn students is as talented, intelligent, and white as possible. Penn admissions has got this process down to a science and makes sure that it is fair and equitable at all times. Here, Under the Button presents a walk down memory lane for Penn admissions to demonstrate how the University has done nothing wrong — not ever — in selecting each new class of students.
UTB kicks it back and makes the most of their spring stay!
UTB gets creative with their drug use to expand their Spring Stay.
In in the age of the coronavirus pandemic, many of our favorite restaurants and dining halls have been closed, forcing us to cook our own meals. The entire process of choosing meals, going to ACME, and then actually preparing and cooking them is spiritually and emotionally draining. It’s so difficult, in fact, that we’ve compiled a list of things that are easier than meal-prepping for one.
Chad F. Daniels
Friendship. Laughter. College. Salad. Memories. Booths. Almost ripe fruit. Long lines for pasta.
What is that succulent scent wafting through the hallowed halls of Harnwell? God damn it. Is that steak au poivre? Damn it! That’s unmistakable. That guy across the hallway is making steak for the fifth time this week. Every single night, man. Every single night I go to sleep with that distinctive smell on my nostrils, and every single night I have this recurring dream: my eyes open, I find myself adjacent to a Parisian boulevard, sipping a fine apéritif, mulling it over in anticipation of my first bite into the heralded main course: a feast truly fit for a king, savory motes of bovine flesh floating over the undertones of a fine peppercorn crust, an oasis for my impoverished taste buds; I watch the sun glide past the abutments of the Arc de Triomphe, descending, lightly, as if pulled by string, through the glowing peephole that is my imagination. But as dawn breaks, the only solace to my deep-set carnivorous desires is the tough, economically-calculated gristle of a Big Mac. Dear Lord! How did it come to this? Christ, how did it come to this? I’m literally sitting here, a captive in my own dorm, as that kid across the aisle is living it up with his haute cuisine and sous vide, while I have to scrounge up whatever I can from last night’s McDonald’s misadventure. How excellent! I feel nauseous. Oh, sorry — I meant to say I feel nauseated — ah, there it is! There it is again. The smell of simmered heavy cream, delicate cognac, added salt to taste! An experience so Sisypheanously out of my reach, through barriers of drywall, across the cool expanse, aromatic particulate crossing the gap between rooms, infiltrating my olfactory factory, electrical impulses triggering, scattering electromotive forces like billiards, hardy neurotransmitters crossing the gaps between cell bodies, these signals of decadence finally achieving a perfect quincunx at my mind’s eye! Holy moly guacamole, I need that steak! I’m slobbering like mad over here: awooooooga! Somebody throw me a bone, preferably one with some damn meat on it! What will it cost? (A steep price, I’m sure of it.) When will it end? (No time in the foreseeable future.) How can I still smell that damn steak days after it’s already been devoured, savored, enjoyed, relished, and fancied? (The window is broken; it can’t be opened.) Why does it persist into my dreams, and why does it persist into my nightmares? (The A/C is broken; air can’t be circulated.) Why has it come to define my life? (The lights in the dorm are broken; nothing can be seen.) Yes, yes, an infernal dance for the culinarily snubbed seems fitting. Doesn’t it? (It does.) It’s settled then. I’ll do it while my limbs still wield the potential for movement! I’ll do it as the days turn to years! I’ll do it so long as my tongue still hungers for the taste of life! I will dance! Dance, you tragic clown, dance!
Even before he came to Penn, Leon Jefferson (N ‘24) was a huge self-described foodie. But when he arrived in Philadelphia for the first time, he wasn’t sure if he would be able to maintain his passion for enjoying and photographing the culinary arts. After all, most college dining halls don’t exactly have the best reputation. But much to Jefferson’s surprise, he found that Penn more than delivered on its promise for high-quality food on campus. He found that 1920 Commons, the flagship enterprise of Penn Dining and Bon Appétit, exceeded all expectations and is, in fact, the culmination of human culinary achievement.