The athlete/non-athlete divide at Guilford has been miraculously healed. The mighty Treaty of Founders (equidistant from both the Gymnasium and the Hut, and thus considered a safe space for both groups) has at last declared victory in the name of meatheads, hippies, gym rats, stoners, self-righteous politicos, Yachters, dweebs, lummoxes, and that guy who sits in the corner of the cafeteria glowering. “We realized that hanging out with people who actually share our interests merely perpetuates the divide,” said Jimmy Featherbottom Jr., avid gambler, treaty-advocate, and startlingly average student. “The trick is to hang out with people you have absolutely nothing in common with.”

The signing went off with nary a hitch. The treaty’s proponents “tabled” outside the cafeteria during the peak lunchtime hours, convincing all-comers to sign it by telling them it was a petition to get Neil Young to play Serendipity. Young is literally the only artist the entire campus could agree on.

In regards to the treaty, the “traditional” students have agreed to stop being so goddamn snotty, and at least occasionally take showers, while the athletic types have forfeited the right to throw beer bottles wherever they please and use beer-pong as a means of flirtation (commonly known as “pre-gaming” someone.)

The treaty necessitates that the occupants of the athletic center and the Greenleaf switch places every Wednesday during “community time.” Thus, every Wednesday the Greenleaf rings with the dulcet tones of 300-pound beefcakes discussing football strategy, and the basketball courts simply crawl with sprightly protest-kids dreaming up innovative, yet sustainable, ways to smash the state.

These massive migrations have left many administrators confused and upset. As it turns out, the fact that people who are interested in the same things tend to hang out exclusively with others like them served Guilford’s administration quite well. “Divide and Conquer” as Dean of Students Aaron Fetrow described it in a recent off-the-record interview.

So how has the treaty turned out? Has it worked? Our reporter on the scene, Jock-stain McAcidtrip, says people have come together in ways previously unexperienced. For example, local “students” are now combining steroids and mushrooms into a deadly concoction that produces performance boosts in games that have become almost unrecognizable; many involving tie-dye, helmets, sandals, cleats, and fast-food locations at odd-hours (also UTIs.)

McAcidtrip’s reports have been confused and rambling at best. Judging by the inordinate numbers of Guilford students turning up in Moses-Cone Hospital with near-permanent psychosis, it may turn out that the cure is worse than the disease.

“This isn’t a Public Safety issue, it’s a community issue,” said Ron Stowe, Director of Public Safety, in response to the unprecedented levels of inter-interest camaraderie.”We’re all impacted by this.”

With most of the treaty’s original adherents reporting twice their normal muscle mass but half their usual brain cell count, the survivors have decided to abandon the treaty.

“We’ve decided that there are more pressing issues to focus on than the fact that athletes like to hang-out with their teammates,” said Jill A. Rumpington, presumed lacrosse player and conveniently placed interviewee. “There are a myriad of other things we could be thinking about. The fact that the majority of the books in the library were published before 1970, or that the school is growing in unsustainable ways, or issues of sexual assault prevention, or the legion of robotic student-slaves Randy Doss keeps in the basement of the alumni house. I’ve said too much.”

In short, the inanity of the discourse over the divide is recognized by all. Salutary rounds of cheap beer will be offered this Saturday in the Old Apartments. Hang out with your friends and try not to smash the bottles on the walkway. That really is annoying.