The War On Beer Pong (aka, the dumbest reason for anything we've ever been able to call a "war")

There was an interesting article in TIME today about The War on Beer Pong. Apparently, this rowdy, vulgar, and potentially dangerous game that’s been sweeping college campuses and townie keg parties for the better part of three decades has finally raised enough awareness and detractors to merit a “war.” It’s banned on numerous campuses (along with related paraphernalia and “inordinate numbers of ping pong balls”) and in several towns. Dartmouth won’t even let you play “water pong” for fear of an H2O overdose. I’m not even kidding here.

Three weeks from tonight, in the “opening ceremonies” of my weekend long bachelor party in Vegas, I’ll be playing beer pong. This is a guarantee. I know I’m getting old. I know there are better things to do in Vegas. I’m aware of the inherent “risks.” I don’t care. Beer Pong is, above all else, a bonding right of passage. Many of my fondest memories from college are beer pong memories, and I’m still looking to make a few more. Hopefully no one will die in the process. There’s a 99.9% chance no one will. But there’s a 100% chance we’ll have fun.

Chilax, people. There are better, more important wars to be fought.