At long last, I’m writing a column about fraternities and sororities. I’ve put it off until now for two reasons.

First, because, as a mean and nasty columnist of some repute, I’m almost expected to write a snide piece on the greek system. It’s predictable and clichéd, and I want to be neither of those things.

Second, I nurture in the cockles of my heart the fervent hope that I will be asked to join a group of sunbathing sorority girls for lemonade and Oreos.

And so I’ve put off writing this for as long as I could - but I can delay no longer. I saw something last week which forces this column from me like the Heimlich maneuver forcing a piece of chicken from a windpipe.

Walking in the sun, I passed a local shop whose window displayed various greek paraphernalia: blankets, T-shirts, teddy bears, notebooks. The blanket had the name of a sorority - let’s call it Alpha Beta Gamma - with a greek slogan below. Having spare time, I transposed the motto. It read, “A-L-P-H-A B-E-T-A G-A-M-M-A.”

I was stunned. Gone were the days of “Honi Soit Qui Mal y Pense.” No more could be found “Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité.” Even “Don’t Tread on Me” was too much to ask.

We had been reduced to slogans based on phonics. It was as if IBM announced its mission statement was, “Eye Bee Emm.” It was as if General Electric etched, “Gee Eee” on every appliance they made.

You get the idea. Amazed and awed, I reluctantly admitted the time had come to write the Greek Column.

Now, don’t get your visors in a bunch. I’m not going to reinforce stereotypes. Some of the brightest people I have ever known have gone greek - and so have some of the most idiotic.

Greek or not, individuals are still individuals and to generalize would be easy and stupid. But the institution of the fraternity/sorority - the nature of the organization itself - is worth talking about, because it’s absolutely inspired.

Each of us thinks at least several times a day, “Don’t these people know who I am? Don’t they realize I’m better than them? I should be allowed to go right into this bar!”

Don’t kid yourself. When you sneer at that member of the physics team because he’s wearing Jordache, keep in mind he’s sneering at you because you don’t have the slightest idea what the cosmological constant is.

When you shove aside that lanky graduate student at the bar, the words “idiot undergrad” occur to him as quickly as “spaztastic geek” float to yours. We each lever our identity to boost us above others.

And the greek system, quite brilliantly, has realized you don’t need to be a member of the physics team or football team to feel this way. You don’t need to spend a fortune on clothing or have a good car. You just need to be something someone else isn’t.

The greeks boil identity down to its essence: exclusion. Admittedly, other qualities grow up around this foundation, giving each house its own personality, but these are basically unimportant for the purposes of this column.

I’m not criticizing the greek system. Far from it: I’m impressed.

A house manages to organize our nature and work within it, and do so fantastically well. When I demand special treatment because I’m a medical student, and someone else demands the same because they’re a tri-Rho, neither of us has the obvious advantage.

In fact, I’m at a bit of a disadvantage, because I had to go to school for another four years to gain what social standing the other person got just by pledging.

What’s most amazing is the enmity that springs up between the houses. Go to the third floor of the Main Library and see the slurs that decorate the study rooms.

Given that, as I said, each house is made up of individuals, it’s impossible that all of the Alpha Phis are sluts, or that they all want to be Kappa Kappa Gammas.

It’s unlikely that the Kappa Kappa Gammas take the Alpha Phis’ leftovers, or that all of the Pikes love all of them. And I really don’t think all the Sigma Nus enjoy making love to donkeys.

And yet, the walls are rife with these ridiculous characterizations. The subtext is, of course, this: Your house is not my house. You suck. I rock.

But before any of you independents start getting smug, realize that to feel superior because you didn’t go greek is equally baseless. And to generalize about the people who are greek is just as stupid.

Because what it comes down to is that none of you are Rishi, and, in the end, isn’t that all that matters?

Rishi Kundi, State News graduate columnist, can be reached at kundiris@msu.edu. And before you write that he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, realize that he belongs to an organization whose slogan is Amo Libertatem, Odi Aequalitatem.