HAMILTON, NY — “I couldn’t believe it,” explained freshman Buddy “Butt” Stuff, “the used condom had been there for an upwards of eleven hours, and every time I stared at it, it stared right back at me.”
The now-dubbed “Gatehouse Cult Condom” gained rapid recognition as a local celebrity due to its amazing charisma in the face of adversity and its willingness to help those in need; but, just as quickly as it had arrived, God decided that He needed that angel back.
“I remember the first time I met GCC,” stated another freshman who wished to remain anonymous. “It was there, right in the middle of the hall, right after I failed my mid-term and attempted to drink my sorrows away with some pruno I made in the bathroom. In my drunken state, I began talking to it, and minutes became hours. It listened to me—cared for me, even. It was absolutely miraculous.”
Over time, the Gatehousers made offerings to the condom, giving it miscellaneous goods like Backwoods and food from the Coop. Once its influence spread past the hastily-built student barracks, however, GCC’s following began to change from lost and wary spirits to indoctrinated zealots, defending the front-sock’s honor voraciously.
“At one point, we had established guard patrols to ensure that no one would touch our Lord GCC. It took 23 of Colgate’s best janitors to power through our goat-sacrificing ceremony and finally throw him into the trash about four feet away,” explained Stuff.
And despite the condom’s eventual end, it appears to have left a secret society in its wake, known only as the “Colgate Condom Cult,” or Tri Chi, Triple X, Iple Tri, TC, Trix, Chi Chi Chi, and the onomatopoetic “ckckck.” Very little is known about this mysterious group, save for their first ritual: eating an entire pack of Trojans.
We here at the Rag were lucky enough to interview one of the founders of Tri Chi, who explained the oddity of their central symbol: “I mean, yeah, it’s kind of fucking stupid that our deity is a used dickwrap, but when you think about it, it doesn’t seem that bad. I mean, what’s Tri Delt’s thing? A fucking dolphin? These symbols don’t mean anything, nor do the handshakes, nor does your college social status at a school of roughly 3,000 people. It’s pointless, and you’re all trying too hard. Beta even tried to be that kid who’s like, ‘Fuck you guys, I have a dragon.’ Eat shit, idiot; dragons aren’t real. Condom God.”
One can see the mythological Tri Chi as many things: some view it as ironic anti-Greek sentiments taken form; others consider it to be a breath of fresh air in Colgate’s stale social scene. All that can be confirmed about the organization itself, however, is that its charismatic messiah will never be forgotten. GCC’s burial will be held at the Madison County Solid Waste Dump in Canastota, NY, and all donations at said event will go directly to efforts in distributing condoms across the globe; this single action is projected to immediately place Tri Chi at the head of all philanthropic activity at Colgate, beating out unarguably rigorous competition in the process.
The Monthly Rag 
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