Two weeks ago Yale finally chose a successor to a throne empty since January. A rigorous selection process culminated in the ascendancy of Handsome Dan XVI, following Handsome Dan XV in a long Eli line of bulldog mascots. But of what other illustrious character does this long dynastic sequence of identical names and numerals remind you? That’s right, you guessed it: Louis XVI.

It’s uncanny, really, how well these two figures match up. Physical similarities aside (both are corpulent little beasts, Louis being known for his portliness and Dan weighing in at a whopping 69 pounds), their behaviors could not be more alike. Louis XVI is known as a foppish king, decked out in his powdered wig and walking stick; Handsome Dan is no less a vain show dog, chosen expressly for his ability to strut in front of a band and tear up a Crimson blanket. Both are the meaningless figureheads of their respective institutions, all bark and no bite; both inhabit silly expensive palaces—Versailles and Yale—pretty on the outside but pretty useless on the inside (where it counts). In fact, ironically enough, Handsome Dan XV’s first name was—drum roll—Louis.

On a historical level, we can also note some surprising parallels. In late February, students staged a sit-in in the Office of Undergraduate Admissions (OUA) to protest Yale’s financial aid policies. The French had their Bastille; Yale had the OUA. A correlation between the storming of an unjust prison and a sit-in for fairer financial aid policies: coincidence? I think not. Yale rose up again in April, when graduate students set up a strike for teaching unions. This is like the March on Versailles for bread—a loud demand for better treatment, but, as we saw with the end of the strike in late April, an unsuccessful one. Add two and two together, and it’s the second rise of the Third Estate.

So Yale should probably keep its eyes open and beware. This is likely only the conclusion of the first, more moderate stage of the Revolution. They say that the past is the best predictor of the future—and if history is any indicator, we can predict Handsome Dan XVI’s imminent decapitation and the eventual fall of the ancien regime. After all, they also say that those who don’t know their history are doomed to repeat it—and who at Yale knows anything?

N. Kathy Lin ’08, a Crimson editorial editor, lives in Matthews Hall.