GAUDEAMUS IGITUR

What happens if you aren’t interested in the superbowl?
After all, it's not like two teams anybody's ever heard of, or cared about, are playing today. And even if they were, football is a remarkably stupid game, in that it consists of very large chunky boys beating the crap out of each other, sometimes in slow motion.

The Superbowl is a complete non-event.


So what do you do when everyone is obsessed with the game?

You enjoy the peace and quiet in the city.

Every red-blooded male for miles around has drunk the coolaid, and is glued to the idiot box following the adventures of round-bottomed men in shiny spandex tights as they disport themselves gaily with a bit of dead pig.
The streets are nearly empty.

It was a nice afternoon, the few people who were about radiated good cheer and bonhomie, pleased to be outside on such a lovely day.
One could almost feel oneself bursting into song.


LET US BE HAPPY!

[SOURCE: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KCZQPIRSKTY.]


Of course anybody singing this on the streets of San Francisco in this day and age would be promptly locked up.
At least for 72 hours of observation.
San Franciscans do not take kindly to people speaking in tongues.
Let alone singing in what they take to be gibberish.

For your edification, here are the complete lyrics.


GAUDEAMUS IGITUR
1.
Gaudeamus igitur,
iuvenus dum sumus.
Gaudeamus igitur,
iuvenus dum sumus.
Post iucundum iuventutem,
Post molestam senectutem,
Nos habebit humus.
Nos habebit humus.

2.
Ubi sunt qui ante nos,
In mundo fuere?
Ubi sunt qui ante nos,
In mundo fuere?
Vadite ad superos,
Transite in inferos,
Hos si vis videre.
Hos si vis videre.

3.
Vita nostra brevis est ,
Brevi finietur.
Vita nostra brevis est ,
Brevi finietur.
Venit mors velociter,
Rapit nos atrociter,
Nemini parcetur.
Nemini parcetur.

4.
Vivat academia,
Vivant professores.
Vivat academia,
Vivant professores.
Vivat membrum quodlibet,
Vivat membra quaelibet,
Semper sint in flore.
Semper sint in flore.

5.
Vivant omnes virgines,
Faciles, formosae.
Vivant omnes virgines,
Faciles, formosae.
Vivant et mulieres,
Tenerae amabiles,
Bonae laboriosae.
Bonae laboriosae.

6.
Vivant et res publica,
et qui illam regit.
Vivant et res publica,
et qui illam regit.
Vivat nostra civitas,
Maecenatum caritas,
Quae nos hic protegit.
Quae nos hic protegit.

7.
Pereat tristitia,
Pereant osores.
Pereat tristitia,
Pereant osores.
Pereat diabolus,
Quivis antiburschius,
Atque irrisores.
Atque irrisores.

You will have noted that the youtube version presented above does not contain the seventh stanza. Some colleges do not sing it, as it is taken to be too abrasive and smart-aleck. Or something.

[But you can hear it in this version: De Brevitate Vitae .
Apparently that college keeps rivalries alive. Good for them.]

For performances, frequently only verses one, four, and six are sung.
Somehow, a bunch of cleanly scrubbed upstanding young college chaps singing this for an audience, comes across as all wrong.
It should instead be bellowed out by unwashed disreputable intellectuals who stand no chance of graduating this year, preferably while getting disgracefully stinko on decent plonk.
Or alternatively high as a kite on tea and crumpets.

It is about as distant in attitude from the whole running around crashing into each other sports scene so beloved of urban America as you can get.
And therefore, suitable for everyone not obsessed over the game today.

Who's playing, did you say?

The New England Poncies against the Giant Budgie Wisers?

Who cares!

It was a perfect day to be in the city.



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