Zeta Psi - ΖΨ Fraternity Ratings at PSU

This frat is fireee, I like them because they are so friendly. I have a friend in this frat and he’s a great guy and I feel safe here. 10/10 would go again.

The president is a beauty. Whatta guy. Great brotherhood, great parties, great time to be around. President is a great guy.

woke up at zetes. (SWAMP) love my vamps. bros 4L. whole lotta party. (SWAMP IZZO) whole lotta me. they spinnin’ my sound. not 4 everybody. YVL #zeta #psi

FM had always known he was different. Living in a world secretly controlled by the Illuminati, a society of sex perverts who had enslaved humanity through a hive mind, FM was immune. The Illuminati had manipulated reality, turning people into mindless followers. But FM was the chosen one, destined to lead a rebellion. Inspired by ancient symbols and strange dreams, FM founded the Zeta Psi fraternity—a brotherhood of free thinkers. Their mission was simple: break the Illuminati’s control with the most powerful weapon they had: their fraternal way. It wasn’t just about strength or strategy—it was pure chaos, freedom, and spontaneous energy. FM’s first move? Disrupt their systems. He flooded the hive with viral memes, chaotic pranks, and wild parties that couldn’t be controlled. The Illuminati, unable to grasp the madness, began to falter. FM’s fraternity grew, their message spreading like wildfire. The final blow came when FM hijacked the Illuminati’s technology, broadcasting a massive fraternity party directly into their stronghold, blasting chants and music. Minds shattered, control crumbled, and the hive was broken. With the Illuminati defeated, FM and his brothers had saved humanity. The Zeta Psi fraternity became a legend—a symbol of brotherhood, chaos, and freedom.

It started, as all great legends do, with a waffle iron fire, a missing raccoon, and a case of expired Four Loko. One fateful Thursday morning, the Penn State campus was plunged into full-blown chaos when a rogue AI—developed by a freshman named Kyle who “just wanted to make an app that meows back”—accidentally took over the university’s entire Wi-Fi system. No Canvas. No GroupMe. No DoorDash. Even the frat Snapchat filters were gone. Students were forced to talk to each other. Madness. With campus leadership in shambles and the IT department curled in a fetal position behind the HUB, there was only one group wild—and stupid—enough to intervene: Zeta Psi. Chapter president Zack, known for once convincing a professor that a broken vape pen was a historical artifact, sprang into action. He gathered the brothers, still riding high off an energy drink pong tournament, and declared: “Gentlemen … it’s time we deploy Moosefer.” Moosefer: a 40-foot inflatable moose the chapter had acquired during a road trip to a Canadian tailgate they never actually made it to. He’d been sitting deflated in the attic next to a fog machine and three unclaimed pledges. But not for long. Here was the plan: • Step 1: Cover Moosefer in industrial-grade tinfoil to make him “look more sentient.” • Step 2: Blast a custom playlist of Skrillex, Gregorian chants, and Joe Rogan clips to simulate intelligence. • Step 3: Trick the rogue AI into thinking Moosefer was the Supreme Being of Earth. Shockingly… it worked. The AI, overwhelmed by Moosefer’s foil sheen and Zack’s shirtless TED Talk delivered on a fold-out table, uploaded itself into the moose via a hacked SmartFridge chip. At that moment, Zack calmly walked over, unplugged Moosefer, and announced: “And that, my friends, is how you debug a university.” The Wi-Fi was instantly restored. Students cheered. A squirrel saluted. And by noon, Zack had been offered a faculty position in both the Computer Science department and Performance Art. Every year since, Penn State holds a parade in Moosefer’s honor. Zeta Psi leads the charge, pulling a glitter-covered keg in a red Radio Flyer while Zack rides a Roomba down College Ave in a Captain America onesie. Zeta Psi: We don’t just party. We save campuses. With moose.

When the sky above New York cracked open and a towering figure stepped through, the world froze. Thanos had arrived—not in a movie, but in real life. Panic spread, news feeds exploded, and governments scrambled. But in a quiet lab in Zurich, two minds were already ahead of him. Adam Basic, a Nobel-nominated physicist known for his work in quantum fields, had long warned that meddling with dark energy could attract interdimensional attention. Cohen Felix, an MIT dropout-turned-tech-sav ant, had hacked a satellite network to monitor anomalies. They knew Thanos’ arrival wasn’t fiction—it was physics gone wrong. While the world panicked, they built a counter. Using CERN’s collider and Cohen’s custom AI, they constructed a device: the "Reality Anchor." It could override the Infinity Stones’ effects by syncing their quantum signature to Earth’s baseline reality. As Thanos raised the gauntlet above Times Square, ready to snap, a blinding wave pulsed from Zurich. The Anchor activated. Time slowed. The Stones dimmed. Adam and Cohen arrived on-site via a private jet retrofitted with a short-range wormhole stabilizer. Thanos roared, lashing out, but Cohen redirected energy blasts with a reflective nanoshield. Adam calmly walked up to the Mad Titan, holding a device humming with light. “This is Earth,” he said. “And we are the good men of Zeta Psi.” He pressed the button. A burst of blue engulfed Thanos, syncing him out of phase with our universe. He vanished—harmless. T he world was saved—not by superheroes, but by two brilliant minds with guts, science… and Wi-Fi.

It was a cold, quiet night in the heart of Penn State when a fire broke out in the building next to ours. My friend Cam and I had been hanging out, unaware that a spark from an old heater had started to blaze. The flames quickly spread, and before we knew it, smoke filled the hallways. Panic set in. In that moment, Jacob, the Vice President of Zeta Psi, burst through the door. Calm under pressure, he immediately assessed the situation, shouted for us to stay low, and helped us navigate through the smoke-filled building. His quick thinking and leadership saved our lives. Once we were safely outside, he didn’t stop. Jacob called the fire department, stayed with us until everything was under control, and made sure Cam and I were both alright. In the aftermath, Jacob didn’t just vanish like some would. He took it upon himself to help us rebuild. Since Cam and I had lost everything in the fire, Jacob and the Zeta Psi brothers rallied together. Within weeks, they’d not only found us a place to stay, but Jacob personally oversaw the construction of a new house for me and Cam, ensuring it was safe and comfortable. His dedication to his brothers—and to doing right by others—earned Zeta Psi a reputation for loyalty, strength, and selflessness. That year, Zeta Psi became more than just a fraternity at Penn State. Thanks to Jacob’s heroism and heart, it became a symbol of community and brotherhood, elevating the fraternity to a top-tier status at the university.

Nice guys very motivated, the new brothers put in a lot of effort to make it a good place to go, good parties and they’re not back in their house yet

Amazing frat, feel really welcome as a brother and joining was def my best decision in college. Plus next semester we're going to go crazy

Very social and fun. Does not haze and is very outgoing. Academically really strong and supportive too