Judge, 1931-08-22 · page 10 of 36
Judge — August 22, 1931 — page 10: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# "The Bands That Bind" - Judge Magazine Satire This satirical story mocks fraternity culture and the superficial bonds created by Greek-letter organizations. The narrator purchases a Chi Omega fraternity hatband as a symbol of belonging to an "elite" group, expecting camaraderie with fellow members. The joke centers on the absurdity of these "bands that bind": the narrator's first encounter reveals his band has the *wrong number of stripes*—it's actually a Yacht Club band—causing an embarrassing rejection. His second encounter with a "real" fraternity brother appears more promising, but the humor suggests the connection is hollow; these men bond over mere credentials rather than genuine friendship. The accompanying cartoon (bottom left) shows a worker being literally bound, parodying how such affiliations symbolically "bind" men together. The satire critiques how young men naively believe fraternity membership grants them superior status and meaningful brotherhood, when it actually reduces human connection to costume and ritual.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
JUDGE THE BANDS THAT BIND By Stanley Jones E ERY man, at one time or another, yields to the tempta- tion to wear a colored hat band. Denoting treasured affiliation with some body or other. But, take it from me, no possible good I got my bi an come of it. tism of brotherhood early, and I am thank- ful, As I was leaving the campus, one of the fraternity brothers said, “Know what we ought to do, boys? Ought to wear the Chi Omeg colors. Nothing gaudy—just a band on the straws. It'll help to pick out the regular Y's. “Good hunch,” approved his room-mate (who split the profits). “Why Il be a Godsend in a strange town! Here you are, only a dollar apiece.” It wasn’t a bad-looking band, I'll say that for it. And it gave one, at first, that delightful feeling of belonging to a little band (two hundred and eighty chapters, I think » had) of superior beings. Walkin another of God's chosen with the red and green band. A week passed in disappointment. It seemed, indeed, that I was the only one of the anointed out sweltering on the pav Then came that dazzling afternoon when | glimpsed a flash of red and green. Shoving other toilers aside, I panted up, grasped a smoothly tailored arm. “Hello,” IT ssid. “I see you're a Chi Omeg—your hat- band, you know. What's your chapter? I'm from the Zeta, myself.” He was a tall, aloof gentleman, with a small blond moustache and a chilblained eye. He ignored my hand, all set for the mystic grip. Removed his hat— alone, as it were, rntlemen adorned “You don’t seem very enthusiastic to sell this last pair, young man!” a costly | 1ma—pointed to the band. I saw my error; the band had three @ narrow red stripes, instead of two. “Caledonia-Bristol Yacht Club,” he Q ‘ s said. Nose in air, he bowed ever so slightly and moved off. ¥ second contact did not material- ize for a fortnight. Then, out of aclear sky, I hailed by an af- fable young man ina linen suit. Mind- ful of my previous impetuosity, 1 serutii his credentials closely. Yes, this time there were two stripes. We stepped into a doorway, put down our bricf-cases. “Just out? he smiled, after we had exchanged the grip. “Tough going, isn't it, after four soft years?” u,” he said. “Know any of the boys there?” met a fellow once, named n- mis,” I said. “No, it was Plant— G. L.” “Son-of-a-gun,” he beamed. “Shake again! By the ws I'm: Brother Sncep—Thurlow J. Sneep. Had lunch yet?” “No,” I said happily. “Let's He had charming manners. In especial, an engaging trick of slap- ping one’s forearm to assist in con- ‘ . trolling his mirth at one’s pet ance- 7 Steet Workern—These sun bathers’ll be the death of me yet! dotes. He (Continued on page 29) 8 comicbooks.com