That could get interesting: writer Joris Luyendijk who came in on Wednesday evening One today (AvroTros) would also shed some light on the situation at the Amsterdam Student Corps (ASC). There was a gentlemen’s dinner, there were speeches, there was chanting. And, unlucky for the students, there was filming. Now the mothers, sisters and friends of the speakers could also hear how they talk about women. Whore. Sperm bucket. Whore.
Tuesday’s television evening was filled with it: first we enjoyed the images of a room full of sweating young men in shirtsleeves and suspenders (why were the jackets allowed to come off?). And then have guests, preferably former corps members, say that this is really not possible. So on Tuesday evening we saw Philip Huff, writer and former ASC ‘er, at news hour. He has a summer job commenting on corps misadventures, he said. Bee Renze we heard journalist Milou Deelen, ex-Vindicat in Groningen. And with Show news regular panel member and ex-lawyer Bram Moszkowicz came out as a former member (prominent sorority too, Atomos of the ASC). Super nice for him that he could subtly notice that bladder jaws and braces often go together. Sweet revenge on Jort Kelder, who looks and acts like a corps member, but never was. He called Bram a mafia buddy fifteen years ago. So yes.
Anyway, now the real analysis of misplaced student fun would come from Joris Luyendijk, who wrote in his book The Seven Checkmarks showed how privileged the upper class are and what an ignorant bubble they live in. Male, white, straight, born in the Netherlands, at least one highly educated parent, pre-university education. Let’s see, have I got them all? Oh no, HBO or university educated of course. Roughly speaking, all the sweaty boys in that sweltering dinner room last weekend. In the ministry: young women and a single (black) man.
But the student riot turned out to be just a rusty hook to hang old news on. Although Joris Luyendijk was shown around and interviewed in a society, it had nothing to do with students. It was De Unie in Hilversum, a gentlemen’s society where new candidates have to be put forward by three members, and then the group can decide whether they can join. You can speak shame about that, but that’s just called balloting. Joris Luyendijk’s eye fell on the club agenda, which announced a father-son dinner. “Sons copy their father and their father’s friends and so the elite copies themselves.”
Corporal Imagery
No word of a lie, but we had heard him say that before. Fortunately they came across a cartoon on the wall of black men playing billiards. And then Joris Luyendijk, in a club chair, was allowed to tell the whole story about how he discovered his ticks and he used, funnily enough, corporal imagery. „Men like me have never had to worry fight with a social class.”
We also see Luyendijk speaking at the municipal gymnasium in Hilversum, his old school, to the children who will soon be exchanging this ‘reserve’ for a student city. By the way, he also tells them honestly how he fared when The Seven Checkmarks had just appeared and he (also) was showered with criticism. “I was bullied. I was not allowed to be there.”
Back in the club, the EenVandaag reporter asks Luyendijk whether he thinks the gymnasium should be abolished. No, that’s the solution. Patient is not getting better, we are closing the hospital. But Luyendijk said he had to think about the answer to that question for another two years.
The rest of the evening on NPO1, the women fought a historic feud. Germany against France. Football. This time the Germans won.