The Black Sheep
Fr ee ... ha like vin t g hat da g dd irl y i yo ss ue u lik s. e
• a college newspaper that’s actually about college •
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Volume 2, Issue 3 2/27/13 - 3/21/13
cracked! Pierce Bishop wrote this
In the dilapidated world that is the UVA experience outside of the Comm School, the struggle of not being in contemporary, well-equipped, completed buildings has come to a critical mass. The promised land of Nau and Gibson consists largely of office space (for the administration to stroke the egos of professors) and rooms for graduate seminars (for the hairy blobs called graduate students to stroke the egos of professors). The super-majority of students sit in buildings with tarp flapping against the windows and the sultry smell of decaying asbestos. Such a treat for the liberal arts students who have decided to defer their hatred of humanity a little bit longer while they enjoy Kant’s critiques or Marx’s history, roughing it in a way that mirrors what they can expect in the world of post-graduation unemployment. A professor of mine recently hit the perfect pitch when he described the teaching conditions in New Cabell Hall as being akin to a crack house… more than once. Well, now, isn’t that just the most poetic and accurate description? The unruly temperature that has us all huddled under our coats one day and wiping the putrid sweat off our brows the next. The welcoming sheets of plywood, sealed with duct tape, that cover the windows and their light in favor of the bleaching overhead lighting that flickers on and off. The constant din of jackhammers from outside as the rest of the world builds around us to forget this sorry hell-hole. The graffiti scrawled on the desks (which are bolted to the floor in case one of us junkies had the idea to gallivant off with such a prize) illustrating some group’s superiority over another or an obsession with dick sucking. The floor, constantly dusty, sometimes sticky, with substances (human, animal, culinary) no one knows, but everyone places their items on it. The walls, peeling with paint, excrete many decades worth of perspiring bodies that have crowded in these rooms as slaves to the substance of some singular subject. Indeed, the people in the room, these wonky dopes in this crack house, start to resemble crack heads. Being an English class, the connection is closer than one may think. The men stumble in, zombies exchanging a diet of brains for one of less nutritious and satisfying coffee and cigarettes, with patchy scruff on their face and asymmetrical haircuts. As they get to scratching their “beards” (just ask them) a few days worth of food and filth floats through the air, and you are reminded of that uncle you’ve only ever seen once at Thanksgiving and no one mentions except to say he went “West.” The clothes, for both men and women, set the crack-y mood as well. There seems to be a competition between the students as to who can best meld androgyny and destruction in their outfits. Jeans appear unisex, rolled tightly and awkwardly toward the knee, and are adorned with holes, scuffs, stains, and jangling keys. Shoes do not give any hints as the whole class seems to be clad in the same pair of chunky boots that they wore while being dragged down a rough sidewalk. Hair, for men and women, also has a nice crack house feel…and smell! Some have decided that a greasy red dye job with a cut that sticks out in awkward clumps is the way to win the androgyny competition. The hair is really accentuated by the seemingly random tattoos and piercings around the face, neck, and head. Have the side of your head shaved but the rest grows
Second Writing Pains
normal? Pick a spot, any spot, on that side’s ear and pierce it. And don’t be surprised if some of these piercings start to mold as they were performed by a benevolent neighbor. Have a large chunk of hair dyed orange? In close proximity to the dye, get a tattoo with a Latin phrase and a poorly drawn image, preferably something furry. Add in the collective twitch at any mention Freud and you have to ask, “what the hell are these kids on?” So, maybe Cabell Hall isn’t really a crack house, but what exactly is it? Conducive to learning? No. Conducive to breathing without a mask? No, again. Conducive to hearing the person ten feet in front of you? That’s a negative. Yet, the students have adapted to these conditions. Nothing says “best public university in America” like rooms that allow students to succeed while playing the role of meth-mouthed ditch diggers. Keep up the challenge, UVA. Make the liberal arts interesting, at least, since you’ve already killed it with where you’ve put your endowment money.
what'’s inside
The Pros of Blood Diamonds
Awkward & Fitness Center
Is there anything more arduous than a second writing requirement?
Diamonds are forever, but the guilt of buying a blood diamond can be relieved pretty quick!
ALWAYS avoid eye contact at the AFC.
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