Omega Mu Voices: Jay L. Clement and Charles E. Chapman

Stories, as we all know, are the purple life and blood of Omega Mu, and they keep alive our Omega Mu spirit each time we see each other, and there is nothing wrong with feeling nostalgic and then saying to yourself: “Did I really say and do these interesting things while living in the house; did all those events occur in the RAM, and did I really look like that during my years in The Castle?” And the beautiful thing is that these events did occur, and you did look like that. The Castle has graced the ground of 79 College Avenue for generations of Omega Mu brothers, and our binding stories were framed within the distinctive walls of The Castle. The stories are delightful, poignant, and filled with warm memories. Our Omega Mu stories provide a clear, significant lens in appreciating our long history; second, they provide a broad generational spectrum of our brotherhood in our shared home. That is the power of authentic storytelling; not shallow prattle. Anyway, to be clear, please send me more of your stories. Each story helps each of us to appreciate and love, in new yet familiar ways, our Omega Mu brotherhood and The Castle. Thank you.

Fraternally,
Chip Chapman, ‘82
​Perge!

Shab And Phil

Jay L. Clement

“Psycho”.  Did you ever see the movie Psycho, are you a fan of movies that instill mental terror?  They had nothing on some of the pranks pulled by Brother Shaboski.  Shab rarely slept, he was too stressed out by schoolwork and a host of other mental quirks, so he’d perpetually be up into the wee hours, after we’d all retire to the Ram.  His favorite victims were Brother Hannan and Brother Emmons.  Of particular note, and his escapades were many, was when he waited patiently for hours underneath Hannan’s bed for Phil to come up and go to sleep.  Waiting even longer he then suddenly reached up from beneath the bed and grabbed Phil. Now Phil had his own late night demons so when he finally fell asleep and was grabbed, his screams of terror were enough to wake up the Zeroes next door.”

Fraternally,
Jay L. Clement, '82
Perge

Charles E. Chapman

“Mysterium Tremendum”

​“The RAM is the
Territory of mystery in
Omega Mu, the place of
Fables and legendary 

Pranks, and not the 
Light fairy-
Tales of the brothers’
Grimm. (above)

​Oh
 
No. “It was
No paradise
Of innocence”

Because once
You put your name on
The desired time

nail
 
To be waked up in the
Morning, you had to be
Philosophically,
Emotionally,
​and 

Psychologically
Alert when you
Opened the
Creaky door and

Felt

The
 Descending Rush of
air as you
Ascended,

Feeling the
Curious ethereal
Yet
 
Emotionally
present
Quality of the

Numinous realm of 
Static-un-
time

With
 
The guiding
Principle of
Unknowability

In the
Mythological

Black Hole
“Singularity” of
Omega Mu’s
RAM Time.

When the
Nocturnal tocsin of
the RAM

Sounded,
Simple and true,
For

Terror and humor
To 
Commence,

With no
Program notes to prepare
The wary or unwary as to
 
What might happen, on
Any given night,
In

RAM Cubicles
Filled with generational
Memory specters amidst the
 
Miscellany of broken
Furniture, RAM-
Shackled bed

Frames,
Mattresses, piled junk,
And strewn 
 
Clothes, and benefacted
Goods from previous
Generations of

Brothers,
Creating a brisk
Dynamic inter-
 
Generational commerce,
Free of the dollar signs,
When brothers

Would
Cometh to the RAM To
 Receiveth,
Free of
Charge:

Papers, books, clothes,
Sporting equipment, albums,
And didactic and
Erotic literature, 

“Each according
To his needs” –
Ah, Marx!

After you
Ascended the stairs and
Opened the door

And
 Entered the
woody, dusty,
Fibrous smelling
Darkness of the RAM,
Every clear-headed, no-
 
Nonsense nocturnal
Impulse was displayed by
Brothers full of

Complexities and
Compulsions from
Placing
 
A dead bear in a
Brother’s
Bed in ’56

To Shab, mad satan of
Many RAM
Spells,

Bringing
The
Nightly

Winds
Of Hell 
And

Devilry
That Would
Put Phil

Into

 Spluttering
Anticipatory
Paroxysms
Of

Fear and
Trembling and
Years

Of
Psycho-
Analytical

Treatment
 To cleanse his
Scarred

Subconscious
Soil Of
Shab

To
Regain
Approximate
Human

Sensibility;
A Work
In

​Progress
For Phil,
Still.
 
As well as the
Pleasurable,
Unchecked

Verbal
Fiction
Of pure

Mysterium Absurdum
Emanating 
Out of
​
The
​“Mental Ward” –

With Brother Mao's
Nightly
All-or-nothing
Magical

Fantasy
Tour of
Pure

“Fantasia”

Of Delicately
Complex Theatre-
Stories

Of High Baroque
Saucy
Smuttiness,

 A Well-worn Mao
Track of
Habit, with
The

Echoing

Response of gentle-
Souled
Laughter,

In  Utter
​Incredulity,
 
Of  Hicksy, Chip, Bart,
Jughead, Joel
Gar, and
​Rocky,

Echoing
Long into the
Night, each
​And every
Night,

In the Mental
Ward,
In The RAM,

And it is 
These 
Memories,

Brothers,

Like the
Blink of
An

Eye,
That Come
Back

With Ease
When
WE

All
Ponder The
Treasure
Of

Our Shared Fraternal
Home That
We Love
For

​Life:

The Castle

Fraternally,
Chip Chapman. ‘82
Perge!