By Audrey Russell
It's that time of year again: time to rank all the Bard ghosts.
20. The Scarecrow. Hidden deep within the cornstalks of the Bard Farm is a lone scarecrow. Hidden deep within that scarecrow is a great evil. Avoid The Scarecrow at all costs.
19. The Old Robbins Ghost. Criminally overrated. Definitely responsible for that fire. And that car crash. And those vibes.
18. The thing that lives in the Tewksbury corridor. Has seen every movie in The Conjuring Cinematic Universe. Acts like it. There is not an original bone in its body. (There are also no unoriginal bones in its body.)
17. The little girl who lives in the Blithewood attic. I don't care that she died when she was eight–she's an idiot!
16. The stagnant ghosts of all the microgreens in the campus center. Once, they nourished the student body. Now, they just attract flies. How the mighty have fallen.
15. The Waterfall Wraith. The reason you feel watched whenever you go for a swim. If you slip on the rocks, it has no intention of saving you.
14. Philip Roth. Does not leave the graveyard on account of being a lazy, horny ghost. Once told me I should smile more often.
13. The Haircut Haunt, who tripped and fell on her scissors while cutting her bangs in the South Hall bathroom. They will never, ever, ever be even. Her goal in this realm is to condemn you to the same fate.
12. The Sawkill Spirit. Always wants coffee; lacks the wherewithal to pay for it. Owes everyone money; will never pay them back. Does not drink coffee; simply enjoys the ritual.
11. The Phantasm of the Rose Labs. Less of a real ghost, more of a distinct feeling of swivel chair wheels gliding towards your ankles.
10. The Backseat Driver. There are things that go bump in the night, and then there are things that go clackety-clackety-clack every hour on the hour (except for some hours). I’m sure the shuttle driver likes the company.
9. The Gatehouse Ghoul. If you’ve ever tried to climb up on top of the Gatehouse, you have probably noticed something dragging you down. Most call it gravity. I call it the Gatehouse Ghoul.
8. The portrait of Margaret Bard that Botstein keeps in his parlor. Don’t ask me how I know this, but its eyes follow you around when you walk. It’s very Episcopalian.
7. The Twelve-Dollar Late Fee. Occupies the most garish corners of the library ceilings. Not necessarily out to get you, but knows exactly what’s going through your head when you try to fix the printer by way of brute force.
6. The forgotten Old Robbins ghost that lives in the health office. Sits in on my therapy sessions sometimes, which is a serious HIPAA violation. Sometimes provides meaningful insights. Helped me reconnect with my stepdad.
5. The Wailer of Ward. Responsible for the midnight scales, the wee-morning arpeggios, and the overdone jazz standards at continental breakfast. Love her or hate her, people will remember her long after you’re dead and gone.
4. The Parliament Poltergeist. Refers to self as a poltergeist, but comforts freshmen when they dissociate. To my knowledge, has not poltergeisted once. A very good ghost, if a bit misguided.
3. Hannah Arendt. Only this high up on the list because even in death, she is a gold mine for Bardvark content. We give credit where credit is due.
2. The Gho(a/s)ts. Goats die sometimes too. Beyond the grave, they are still pure and sweet and lovely creatures. They will still eat all of your belongings, and you will still let them. The Gho(a/s)ts reduce my carbon footprint every day!
1. The Secret Barber. The lucky few who are able to find The Secret Barber unlock the secrets of the universe. They stand atop Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs and jeer at the unenlightened masses below. But you will never find The Secret Barber, so don’t even try.
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