________ College in ________, Virginia was a dirty limerick, a stink, a grating noise, a quality of blacklight, a bass tone, a bad habit, a sick nostalgia, a psychedelic dream. It was white boys with dreadlocks throwing up on the stairs of the lamp-lit Georgian library on Thursday night, used condoms and crushed beer cans in the outstretched hand of bronzed Dr. Pinkerton, founder, by the doors of the administrative building on Friday morning. It was frat boys screaming and mauling each other in the streets, sorority girls in miniskirts careening down the sidewalks, howling out the same old Jimmy Buffet songs over and over and over again, plastic cups of the Beast that made Milwaukee famous in their manicured hands. It was night clubs in bombed-out bus depots, strobe-lit and sticky-floored, packed wall to concrete wall with horny drunk sophomores who staggered around through heat-lightning clouds of cigarette smoke and hormones, passing off "yes" stamps from the back of one hand to another by licking and pressing.
But that was all on the east side of town, where the school and its culture had invaded and conquered like some sort of Dionysian warlord. In the west
