Seigle Hall. The DUC. Crow Hall. These are the names of some of the most iconic spaces on WashU’s campus. And also the physics building. But I’m gonna drop a truth bomb on you guys: these are also all the names of BIRDS!!! (if you pronounce them out loud and reeeeally squint at the way they’re spelled)
“So what?” I can hear you saying, to which I retort, “So this!” while theatrically pointing at a Diet Coke-stained trifold. I am firmly of the belief that WashU has named all these buildings after birds as an act of war. Like the lion and the zebra, the whale and the krill, Doja Cat and her fans; WashU and birds are natural enemies. The university has named these buildings after birds as a way to mock the feathered creatures, replacing them with stone monoliths to remind them that they’re not welcome here. Seriously, have you ever seen a bird on this campus? Cause I’ve been here three years, and the only bird I’ve ever seen has been a Canada Goose.
We’re now left with only one question. One which has haunted every avian-themed conflict since the Great Emu War of 1932: “Why the heck are we beefing with these birds?” I’m ashamed to say I don’t know. In an attempt to further my investigation, I went to Andrew Martin’s office to demand answers, but the warlord was allegedly “in a meeting.” I left, disappointed, and went home for my afternoon siesta, only to wake up to THE HEAD OF A PIGEON IN MY BED. I sloshed around for a moment, struggling to pick it up. (Waterbeds, am I right?) In the pigeon’s beak was a note, which read: “Back off or I’ll vaporize Fredbird.” With the fate of my favorite MLB mascot in jeopardy, I knew I needed to end the scourge that WashU has been unleashing on our feathered friends, but a worry gnaws at me. I fear I may have made things worse, that the balance of half-and-halfs might tip ever slowly towards chicken. But I stand regardless. This war isn’t over. It’s only just begun.