Welcome to Frat Beat. Dude, if you're already in a frat, you don't need us to tell you that it's not
easy being a college Greek in the 21st Century. In fact, it's getting pretty fucking sucky at
lots of schools.
Once upon a time, when our landed gentry fathers and grandfathers and great grandfathers were in
college, things were different. It was a dignified, more enlightened time, when eighteen year-olds
in velvet smoking jackets could kick back sipping Rob Roys and playing backgammon by crackling fireplaces
in the mahogany-paneled drawing rooms of their gleaming Tudor fraternity mansions. That was the
heyday, when fraternities were joyously sovereign, all-powerful nations of late-pubescent dudedom.
Today, it's another (much sadder) story. With each passing decade, stupid college administrators
keep tightening the noose around us fraternities' righteously entitled nutsacks. First they took
away our slaves. Then they let dumb chicks in our classes. Then they raised the drinking age to
21. Then they banned hazing. Then kegs on campus. What's next? Date rape? If those killjoy
deans have their way, there'll be no fraternity perks left at all!
Enter Frat Beat — the magazine devoted to recognizing the reality that despite all the bans
and restrictions, fraternity culture and traditions aren't dead and buried — they've just
gone underground, where they're actually thriving. Because if that boring history stuff
has taught us anything, it's that prohibition never works. Yup, whether it's on booze, speeding,
cheating on taxes, or special voting machines for blacks, you just can't force folks to give up good
clean fun. And if there's one thing fraternity living strives for, it's fun.
So no matter how rough things may be at your school, you can count on Frat Beat to bring you the
news and information that today's fraternity brothers need to preserve our unique culture in the
face of so-called "progressive" discrimination. And one day soon, when the politically correct
thought police have been toppled, our noble traditions of fratdom will once again bask in the warm
sunlight of vomit-splattered quadrangles from coast to coast.
Rawk!
