Gluttons live to eat. I eat to drink. (7pm, 15 Newmen)

Yum!  Pasta!  Yum!  Beer!

It’s like I’m carbo-loading for a marathon while in the middle of running a marathon.

I had a deep, spirited discussion with my largely sober friends in which I chastised them for their intemperate lifestyles, waving my beer staff to emphasize my points.

“All things in moderation.”  That’s the golden mean.  But what is a life of constant moderation but excessive moderation?

Momentary excess, taken in moderation, is part of living a moderate life in toto.  The experience of excess gives first-hand, irreplaceable understanding of the dangers of excess and insight into the lives of those who fail to live moderately.  No holiday better represents the principles of moderate living than Newman’s Day.

It’s like Nietzsche said: “That which doesn’t kill me makes for cool stories.”

The Four-Cornered Crossroads (13 Newmen)

I arrived at the next club, but my friend was no longer there.  She’d been struck with terrible migraines and had gone to McCosh, a house of convalescence where the staff’s expert ministrations can heal both body and soul.

Kind of.

As I heard it, upon arrival, a crack team of physicians diagnosed my friend with being drunk.

Friend: But I’m not drunk!  I mean, well, yeah, I am drunk, but that’s not why I’m here!

Dr. McCosh: Listen to her drunken rambling!  She’s delusional!  Throw her in with the rest.

Friend: But my head hurts terribly!

Dr. McCosh: Poor dear must already be hungover.

Friend: Please, it’s a recurring problem!  Please do something about the pain!

Dr. McCosh: Hmm.  She’s a girl.  Let’s just assume she’s pregnant until proven otherwise!  A glass of water and some condoms and she’ll be good as new.

Ω (12 Newmen)

The stack of taped-together beers last pictured had grown to 10 in length.  It served as a powerful visual of how much I had accomplished.  I decided to set out for the other clubs, beer-stick in hand.

I found my friends upstairs sitting on couches, drinking, and playing the latest God of War game.  The Greek letter omega (Ω) is a common motif for referring to the gods.  But while they sat on their butts battling Mars, God of War, I had business with Bacchus, God of More Beer.

Outside we played horseshoes.  Guess what a horseshoe looks like.  Ω.

Guess how many letters are in the Greek alphabet. 24.

You see where I’m going with this, don’t you?  I’m hardly half-way in, but already the mysteries of the universe are starting to make sense.

In medias rest

I took a break from updating yesterday, but the adventure continued away from my computer because it turns out it’s hard to carry a 7.5-pound laptop around with you if you’re also trying to carry 18 pounds of fluid inside you.
That’s right: 12 oz per can times 24 cans divided by 16 oz per pound is 18 pounds.
Fortunately, I took lots of notes and pictures, so I should be able to reconstruct yesterday’s events à la Memento.

Responsibility (3:51pm, 10 Newmen)

Why only one more than last hour?  It’s called time management.  I’m being more proactive, more responsible, more smartistic with my time and responsibilities for Newman’s Day than I have with any of my academic work.  What does this say about me?  What does this say about Newman’s Day?

I think it means I’m a well balanced individual who knows how to prioritize the important things in life.  Furthermore, my excellent time management skills today indicate that Newman’s Day is an extremely educational experience.

Well balanced priorities

Most schools don’t observe Newman’s Day.  Most schools don’t provide the finest undergraduate education in the world.  Coincidence?  I think not!

Frat me a brew? God bless you! (2:49pm, 9 Newmen)

Eggs are delicious.

The band is pretty good, too.

I like Newman’s Day.

Highway to the Dangerzone (1:11pm, 6 Newmen)

The world is a complicated place, and there are so few things we can be absolutely sure of, but if I know anything I know this : Top Gun is a fantastic film.  Every time a plane takes off or lands, ever time I hear Feltermeyers’ heavenly strains, everytime I see bromance, every time Maverick is cocky, every time Goose is genuine, every time I hear a call-sign– every time those things happen I get a little bit closer to the sacred 24.

That’s right… I am dangerous.

Bromantic tension

Part of this Complete Breakfast (10:55am, 2 Newmen)

Can you see why kids are crazy about the taste of Ginnamon Toast Crunch?  It’s the taste you can’t see!

Part of this complete breakfast.

Ginnamon toast crunch is part of a traditional festive Newman’s Day breakfast.  The Armada (Captain Morgan and Cap’n Crunch) is also a respectable choice.  Though neither provides any Newmen, they are both to be preferred over the more pedestrian “Beerios.”

Newman’s Eve (3:25am, 5 Newmen)

“24 HOURS IN A DAY, 24 BEERS IN A CASE: COINCIDENCE?  I THINK NOT!”  So said Paul Newman; so say we all.

First, a word on notation: some of you econ majors may be familiar with the concept of a “util,” the theoretical unit for  measuring happiness and wellbeing.  The “Newman” will be today’s metric; it is equivalent to 1000 utils.  Right now I am at 5 Newmans (5 Newmen.)

Interestingly, Newmen do not persist through sleep.  When I awake I will be at 0 Newman and will begin my adventure anew.  Legend has it that whosoever achieves 24 Newmen on Newman’s Day also achieves enlightenment.  Legend also has it that it’s ridiculous fun.

Countdown to Commencement (38:01:01)

I thought I’d finish with that last post, but I realize now that handing in the thesis is not the end.  It is a beginning– the beginning of the end.  The thesis provided plenty of trials and tribulations, but the post-thesis offers an even greater challenge: get the most fun and fulfillment out of our final days.

Tomorrow is a Princeton holiday, replete with its own unique challenges, rewards, and history.  I hope to weave my own story into the rich tapestry that is Newman’s Day, and I’ll be spinning that yarn in real time right here, thanks to the magic of the Internet.

Bon soif!