Let me just say that given masochistic/sadistic tendencies of both this school and the Chicago god of inclement weather, WETHOR, perhaps no ceremony could have better befit the convocation ceremony.
Drunk and bedraggled, mascara streaming down their faces, poncho-garbed and hobo-looking with caps deflating, the University of Chicago class of 2009 sat in the rain for four hours to receive their well-earned degrees. Next year, maybe they will make the fourth years jumps through fiery hoops and juggle knives to get their degrees.
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