Where did all the pranks go? A look back at capping stunts through time
Pranks are a national pastime, a delight! From stationery floating in jelly to classic gladwrap gags, pranks sustain us through the misery years of university. But, where have they all gone? Why hath we been abandoned in such dark times? Massive looks back at the history of university pranks, from capping stunts to April Fools, to find the best, the worst, and the outright outrageous. Maybe by looking back, we’ll be able to find our way forwards.
Capping Week, held in May during graduation ceremonies (when students were capped, get it?) was a prankster's wet dream. Rivalling O-Week with week-long events, Capping consisted of balls to stunts to just general binge-drinking and debauchery. It was a time for mischief and merriment! Capping committees were formed, tasked with sometimes spending thousands in pursuit of pranking pleasure. When not pranking themselves, the committee judged other students by originality and publicity, with their winners gaining a free ball ticket for their hard work. These pranks were called “capping stunts”. According to ancient guidelines at Vic, “The Stunt[s] generally do not involve the kidnapping or borrowing of any [unclear: chatels], rather it is directed more at misdirection of the public by way of general pranks.”
Students put cars on top of buildings, and altered the size of carparks so they were just a touch smaller. They planted fake speed cameras on university ring roads to annoy professors, and even managed to get a seven-foot Mickey Mouse face onto the Auckland Town Hall Clock (with some remarkable feats of abseiling).
Perhaps the most famous capping stunt is arguably the 1952 stunt from Knox College residents at Otago Uni. Supposedly tired of being misrepresented by the Otago Daily Times, and their recent series of UFO sightings, the students set out a prank “designed to cure the ODT of flying saucerites and inoculate that worthy journal with a healthy degree of scepticism” according to handouts distributed.
Together, they schemed a fictional tale of a detailed flight plan for two saucers, which would fly over New Zealand on December 6 (coincidentally, exams had thankfully finished by that date). Students all over the country phoned their local newspapers to report sightings, “detailing times, shapes, colours and sounds, and inventing wives, children and friends to corroborate their evidence,” according to Historian Ali Clarke. These fake names were never fully checked by reporters (honestly, who can blame them. Nothing but respect for my fellow lazy journalists) which lead to reports appearing all over New Zealand. Expert analysis from astronomers, quoted in the ODT, commented that the sightings “not the result of collaboration (and they appear to be genuine, independent observations), then they constitute a surprising weight of evidence in favour of the supposition that some object did pass down the South Island at about 11 o’clock that night.” Lol.
The true nature of the hoax was kept quiet for many years, surprisingly, and its success reportedly “startled” students, who were sure they would be found out. “By a remarkable coincidence, on the night of 6 December 1952 a United States Air Force bomber flying over the Gulf of Mexico saw some unidentified flying objects, and this seemed to corroborate the New Zealand reports,” Clarke writes. Only decades later, in 1978, did Ken Nichol, a lecturer at Christchurch Teachers’ College, reveal the hoax, which many still refuse to believe to this day. What can I say? The people just want UFOs!
A hotly debated stunt (is it true? Or just mere myth?) was Victoria University’s workmen stunt, later recreated by Auckland University. Essentially, students told local workmen, who were digging up a nearby road, that students dressed as policemen were planning a fake arrest. Meanwhile, police were informed that students posing as workmen were tearing up a stretch of highway. Naturally, chaos ensued.
For capping stunts, the more creative, the better. One year, graduates posted notices stating that a recent shipment of bananas was contaminated, and that students should bring their urine samples to the nearest post office, where a checking station would be set up to test for the disease. Reportedly, many people did show up, clutching sample bottles of urine in their hands. At Vic Uni, a letter was circulated warning that the water supply dam above Wellington would burst unless every hydrant and tap in the city was opened to relieve the pressure. Again, people complied!
In Auckland, students drove a hearse down the CBD, only to pull over to the roadside, pretending to have car trouble. All dressed as morticians, the students removed the coffin from the car to get the jack stored underneath in order to change the tire. Then they drove off, leaving the coffin behind on the pavement to the bewilderment of Aucklanders.
In 1969, a pirate student radio, bFM, was created and broadcasted from a boat aground in Auckland's Waitematā Harbour. The station was played illegally on speakers all around Auckland University (fun fact: the b originally stood for bosom)! Nowdays, bFM is a very legit, very non-illegal radio station owned by AUSA. Oh, how the tides have turned.
In 1984, students wrote on fake Auckland City Council letterhead to hundreds of houses around a park in Remuera, after recent development talks. The letter informed residents that the park was going to be turned into a marae with an on-licence, reportedly prompting at least one elderly resident to put their house on the market.
Other capping stunts have allegedly involved a Massey student “stealing” a bus full of Japanese tourists to enter it in a lost and found contest. Yeah, I know, it sounds a touch unbelievable, not to mention racist. Dunedin students stuck notices on parked cars advising them that their types needed to be brought into the local council due to chemical spray on the road. Auckland students snuck dry ice into 44-gallon drums, spray painted with hazard symbols, and subsequently rolled off a truck in the CBD.
In 2004, Massey’s student mag (aaaayyy-o, shout-out!) advertised auditions for extras in Peter Jackson’s King Kong. Over 200 students auditioned for the fake part, where they were tested on facial expressions and “funny walking”. Each contestant signed a disclaimer prior to the auditions which said, "I also understand that TheatreRecruitment does not guarantee part in any movie, but will endeavour to act in the best interests of entertainment." According to the NZ Herald, at one point six people stood in a circle singing Monty Python’s Always Look on the Bright Side of Life “in the style of a church choir, a New Zealand Idol contestant and a rock singer”. The ‘director’ Ash Flowerday, later said “I’m going into hiding” after the prank was revealed.
In 2005, Massey students, determined not to be outdone, allegedly sent a letter to Prime Minister Helen Clark, stating that foot and mouth disease had been released on Waiheke Island. Foot and mouth disease is an infectious and sometimes fatal viral disease that affects cloven-hoofed animals, including domestic and wild bovids. Although the Massey connection was never confirmed, police said that the letter came from the Manawatū region and coincided with the same day agricultural students graduated. Authorities suspected that a biosecurity exercise at the University may have “inspired” a copycat hoaxer.
But from tough-crackdowns on student drinking culture, to student associations losing the majority of their funding thanks to the introduction of VSM in 2011, prank culture has died a painful death. All that remains of Capping Week is a meagre Capping show performance held in Otago every year. And sure, comedy skits are fun, but they’re not that fun.
Sometimes a small ember carries on the flame, like in 2015, when the Albany Massey Engineering Student Society plastered a huge KFC-inspired bucket around the Albany Chicken Wing statue. Although, the University really fucking lapped up the attention on social media, which kind of took the fun out of it all.
Now, in 2021, we don’t even get a paper bucket to get moist about. There’s just the yearly April Fools post by the Massey’s Facebook team which, somehow, just manages to get appallingly worse with each passing year. Like they’re not even trying to be mildly realistic or funny at this point. This year’s Aprils Fool post announced a new database entitled “The Cat Collection”. The post read: “This is a subject-themed database of ebooks, articles, reports, images, videos and more, all on the topic of cats, with a sub-collection focusing on kittens.” Wow. Ha ha ha. I’m practically pissing myself Massey. You really got me there!
It’s clear it’s time to bring back the age of pranks. Let’s get up to no good. Let’s outrage our fellow citizens. This is a call to arms. We’ll meet at midnight in the woods and go from there. Bring your best jelly moulds and fake letterheads. Viva la Revolution!