I want you for U.S. Army : nearest recruiting station / James Montgomery Flagg. 1917. Library of Congress..War poster with the famous phrase “I want you for U. S. Army” shows Uncle Sam pointing his finger at the viewer in order to recruit soldiers for the American Army during World War I. The printed phrase “Nearest recruiting station” has a blank space below to add the address for enlisting…http://hdl.loc.gov/loc.pnp/ppmsca.50554

Hail, friend! Here be treasure, and booty, and loot, for those who know how to look! Free housing and bullion galore, and honor and merit to the brave souls who dare to venture out into those wild, wild wastes and help defend… Stanford Serra Camp!

The Junipero Serra Camp is a bastion of civilization, a fortress of nobility, and a stronghold of purity against a world which knows naught but to try and spit on the efforts of the upstanding, pale-bodied, Christian citizen. Out West, where the Indians and the Blacks and the Orientals roam, there’s precious little room for the White Man to tend to his simple desires—caring for his household, finding peace in nature before tearing it down for gain, or wiping out native populations. Yes, the small pleasures in life.

But that, dearest fellow, is why we need YOU! Every summer brings barbarians to the gates, clamoring for a place at Serra Camp that God knows belongs only to His best and palest children. Serra Camp is for Stanford folk, and Leland knew when he established this pantheon of summertime revelry that Stanford folk are white folk—he didn’t apologize for facts, and neither will I.

After all, it’s a tough world out there, one that threatens our safety and children every waking minute. But it’s the Serra Camper’s Burden to rise to that challenge, and rise we shall: for if God didn’t make us strong to protect our futures and our legacies, He didn’t make us strong for anything.

But though we’ll be paying you plenty to keep Them out and Us in, we all know that we’re not doing it for anything petty like gold or glory. Oh, no—we’re doing it for the sweet little Stanford scamps, who’ll grow up to take our place so we can spend our days sipping tea on the porch, turning a critical eye to the immaculate front lawn. We’re doing it so that they can have a safe space to be dressed up in cute little tutus and be made to dance on little white strings—that’s a thing, you know.

Serra means sanctuary, and sanctuary means freedom from godless little cretins whose sorry heads can’t help but be filled with sin and evil. Come, brother—join us, and together we will build a brighter tomorrow!

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