I decided to uncover the ancient secrets of Union’s Blank Slate Improv team by infiltrating one of their so-called practices. What I found may shock you.
The meeting starts like any other Union event: with prayer. However, there is one noticeable quirk that stands out: every member of this bizarre group wears all black clothing. Daniel Ashworth, senior education major, stood out in particular. He adorned himself with a black Stetson hat, a charcoal turtleneck, ebony pants and an onyx blazer with a jet velvet lapel.
Many of the members made note of the dark ambiance that had shrouded the room through the event.
“We have the whole emo vibe really going tonight,” said Christopher Roberts, junior biology major.
The next step in a Blank Slate meeting is to partake in some cult ritual. They gathered into a circle, though it was more of a deformed oval. Co-captain Korey Adams, senior French and Spanish double major, was forced to count down from three and each member would blurt out random words. Adams would count down and they would shout again.
This would repeat until two members succeeded at shouting the same words. They would then line up behind each other until the entire team was one single line. The new inductees of this cult clearly hadn’t developed the same telepathic chemistry as the elders of the group but this didn’t discourage them.
I asked Grace Peecher, freshman psychology major, whether these events had any effect on their preternatural ability to scan the minds of their peers.
“It helps you learn how everyone flows through scenes,” said Peecher.
After the ritual was completed, they all sat criss-cross applesauce in the middle of the floor to discuss an unassuming book. It was at this point that I had realized the danger I was in. I was surrounded by a cult of unstable students.
After going through a myriad of rituals similar to the one that opened the meeting (supposedly to practice the so-called “innocent art of improv”), co-captain Clark Hubbard, senior English and political science double major, dictated the team to adjourn to Walmart. Here they did everything they could to disturb the peace while avoiding the wrath of any governing authority (read: Walmart security).
They took group photos with milk, dog toys, the severed heads of plush animals and little pink bicycles that were meant for children much smaller than they. Hubbard had purposefully designed this night to help them grow in their creativity.
“Improv is considered an art form but we tell jokes,” said Hubbard. “It’s a way for us to come together and express ourselves as a team.”
Follow the Blank Slate team on Facebook (Blank Slate Improv), Instagram (@BlankSlateImprov) and Twitter (@UUBlankSlate) for all your recommended daily angst, humor, and general cacophony.
Photos by Tamara Friesen