Autumn has arrived in Morningside Heights, and around the Low Library steps that means one thing: The statue of Alma Mater is furiously demanding a sacrifice worthy of her greatness.
Yep, Fall is definitely here!
Pumpkin Spice is in the air, low-effort halloween costumes are roughly planned out, and this 8 foot tall statue from the 19th century is threatening to bring famine upon campus if her demands are not met. The first one who heard Alma’s big news was sophomore Rich Ewel, who shared his story with the Fed:
“I was walking up to Havemeyer and all of a sudden Alma turned her head directly at me, and said ‘ᴀɴ ᴜɴʙʟᴇᴍɪsʜᴇᴅ ʟᴀᴍʙ, ᴛʜᴇ ʜɪᴅᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ʟɪᴏɴ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ᴏғ ᴀ ᴋɪɴɢ, ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ᴍᴜsᴛ ʙᴇ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇᴅ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ᴍᴇ ʟᴇsᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀɴᴅ ʙᴇɴᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴍʏ ʙʀᴏɴᴢᴇ ᴠᴇssᴇʟ ʙᴇ sᴡᴀʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ ɪɴᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴅᴇs ɪᴛsᴇʟғ.’ It was pretty freaky, because I still felt like it was like August, but apparently autumn’s in full swing.”
Some lucky campus-goers have seen Alma surrounded by spiraling flocks of rabid pigeons, who were apparently driven mad by the malevolent forces surrounding her.
Campus access is limited this year, but that’s not stopping some persistent tourists from bringing flowers to Alma and watching them wilt, burn, or bleed when placed too close to her scepter.
Others have seen the Columbia icon dislocating her jaw to release hordes of locusts, laughing maniacally in the dead of night, or appearing in their dreams to inform students that “the sins of their father” have followed them to New York, and that she “can see the blood on their hands that no penance can cleanse.” Wow! Sweater weather, here we come! Happy Fall, Columbia!
