NOYCE - This year marked yet another successful 10/10 celebration. Or did it? On the morning of 10/11, an anonymous source left a tip suggesting that 10/10 was a hoax. The note, written on a Wal-Mart receipt for $45.12 of off-brand Doritos, read, “10/10 was a sham, I tell you. A trick, a con, a hoodwink, a bamboozle, a murphy, a leg-puller, a down right lie. And it made fools of all of you! Ridiculous students, so lost in your world of indulgence that you cannot even believe your own taste buds!”
Like all tips submitted with proof of purchase, this one was taken seriously, and the resulting investigation revealed that, indeed, the drugs and alcohol served at 10/10 were all fake. The kegs, rather than holding deliciously refreshing Rolling Rock, contained O’Doul’s; the joints distributed by rescue dogs replaced cannabis with its wholesome cousin, oregano; and the campus shot was 1.5 fluid ounces of Bigelow peppermint tea.
When confronted about the lack of any real substances, Ultimate Frisbee team spokesperson Sofia Alvarez said, “Look, for the record, a certain member of the Psychology department demanded that we serve fake alcohol for some social experiment. Of course we didn’t want to, but they threatened to take our disc fund away. What could we do?”
Psychology professor Tony Pinkerton, disgruntled over not receiving tenure, was eager to reveal the department’s motives. “Basically, we were trying to do a large-scale test of the placebo effect. A placebo is ‘a harmless pill, medicine, or procedure prescribed more for the psychological benefit to the patient than for any physiological effect,’” he clarified, quoting irishhealth.com. “Essentially, the Psychology department was trying to see whether or not the students would act drunk, or recognize that the substances served at 10/10 did not contain the sweet, sweet ethanol they are so used to.”
The results were mixed, as will be published in The Journal of Tricking College Students: “About 23% of the students bragged about ‘not feeling a thing,’ while 48% pretended to be at least slightly intoxicated,” explained tenured professor Sarah Shulruff, realizing that admitting to the deception sooner rather than later could lessen any backlash against the department following her colleague’s blabbing. “But what we observed in the remaining 29% of the sample was actually the most interesting at all.”
As it turns out, the combination of O’Doul’s and mint tea consumed orally with the inhalation of oregano vapors results in a potent health cocktail. The sudden barrage of wellness produced intense symptoms in students who partook. “I don’t remember much,” admits Aimee Kettle ‘17.
“Only that I had this weird sensation that my body wasn’t collapsing due to sleep deprivation and that it had received the proper nourishment that it needs and deserves. It wore off by the time I woke up, though.”
About fifty other students cite similar experiences, and felt so positively that they are planning on tabling to encourage their peers to prioritize sleep over socialization and schoolwork.
Overall, the Psychology Department is pleased with their findings. “Due to the unanticipated cumulative effects of our placebos,” Professor Pinkerton butted back in, “We can report a new and exciting health phenomenon. And there’s always next year to keep exploring it.”