It’s been dead for months; campus Ghostbusters at the Tufts Observer made sure of that this past fall. You’d think that death by a curse as horrific as the dreaded administrative sanctions would suffice to keep Greek life away from Tufts’ hapless students, right? But even that doesn’t seem to have been enough. There’s been talk on campus, rumors of a… paranormal nature. Perhaps you’ve experienced some of the foreboding and supernatural signs of a frat or srat haunting. Strange and unexplained shouting and music coming from fraternity basements, even though they’re not allowed to throw parties. People speaking in cryptic tongues, referencing such archaic practices as “screw,” and “pledging.” Perchance a mysterious voice has whispered in your ear that it misses “calling on me,” whatever that could mean. Things might even move seemingly on their own – like fraternity doors, closing upon hearing the key phrase “no, I don’t know a brother.”

A faint odor of Rubinoff and Natty Light permeating even the freshest of fall breezes, bent Solo cups ominously appearing in the least likely of places, and even- if you’re lucky- a Moe’s Trolly’s facebook post, a desperate plea for his main source of business (“HELLO I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW IF THE FRAT HOUSES ARE STILL OPEN, OR HAVE THEY BEEN CLOSED? FOR GOOD THX MOE” [Feb. 27]).

But it does, indeed, appear to be true. Greek life is dead at Tufts. A fact far too painful to accept for the campus bros wearing Greek letters to Carm. Grieving. Mourning a time when a couple plays of “Closer” and a steady stream of Keystone were almost enough to guarantee a Saturday-night hookup.

And yes, there are rumors. Rumors of a glorious return, a resurgence, a resurrection of frats from the Greek afterlife. But in the case of these rumors, we think it’s butter if we don’t spread them.