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Bylaws Are Meant To Be Broken

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Nobody cares about the bylaws… except that one brother. That one brother who gets a hard on just thinking about them and will take it upon himself to correct everyone during chapter for not following Robert’s Rules of Order. Not a second after saying “I motion to,” and this jackass chimes in by correcting you with, “It’s actually I move to.” You can always count on this guy to correct you for poor form in the chapter room, but for some reason when it comes to voting, this dickhead is like your typical BYU student — abstinent; resulting in a tie when all you want to do is close up shop and watch Sunday Night Football.

This is where it gets tricky. Dangerously enough, this guy knows he is the only person who has actually read the bylaws. If you ever have a legitimate concern about procedure, he’ll make it his mission to come up with something on the spot if he’s unsure or can’t remember, then preach it as gospel. Since you haven’t bothered to read them, you’ll half-heartedly take his word for it thinking, “Eh, he probably knows what he’s talking about, that fucking nerd,” giving him the justification he needs to continue being a pain in the ass during your weekly meetings.

For all the headaches this guy causes, he’s the only one who is consistently there for when the chapter is in need. Trying to push something through that you know won’t pass? He’s there to tell you that a house policy only needs simple majority instead of the two-thirds required for an actual bylaw. Need to avoid sitting through another hour during an elections marathon because you just remembered you have a Jimmy John’s sub sitting on the desk in your room getting soggy and warm and disgusting? He can make up an arbitrary time limit to spare everyone another canned speech or round of questioning that will inevitably take way longer than it should so you can go enjoy that disgusting, room temperature, mayonnaise-y monstrosity you’re going to refer to as “dinner.”

His motivation to continue on for his fourth straight semester as bylaws chair is that he thinks he’s untouchable. And he is. Ever try to fine the bylaws chair? Good luck — your head will be spinning with so many cited bylaws that he’s included in his appeal that the meeting required to hear his case won’t even be worth the $10 you fined him for asking the pizza delivery guy to poke some smot with him. Not to mention the fact that he’s got exec in his back pocket, making shit up whenever they need it to fit their agenda. Might as well make it an official position.

Having doubts that he is providing accurate information every week, you decide to do a little digging of your own only to find out that your boy has been full of shit for the last couple years. Waiting in anticipation, you notice that he’s trying to move for a new bylaw without prior notice. Eager to make a correction, you announce to the chapter, “The motion needs — “ you can’t even get the words out. The bylaws chair has already cut you off and mentions it was sent in an email five minutes before chapter. Slouching back in your chair, you think, “Fuck it, I don’t care about the bylaws anyway. I’m not a fucking nerd.”

In an effort to leave the chapter in a better shape than when he took over two years prior, he’ll try and educate everyone as much as he can before graduating. He’ll ask every week if someone would like to become his understudy… to no avail. Finally, one brave young soul, most likely a pledge who thinks, “Bylaws would be a great way to get my feet wet!” raises his hand. Unfortunately, it’s too late — apathy has set in for your bylaws chair. After years of keeping up the facade that he earnestly cared about protecting the procedures of your fine institution, he has finally come to the realization that indeed, nobody cares about the bylaws. Not even him.

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