It’s changed.
This university. This city.
“Senioritis.”
My column at The Nevada Sagebrush has been a zany one.
There’s a reason Sandy and Danny sang “Summer Nights” in “Grease:” Singing about winter nights amid all those “Doo wops” and “Sha la las” just wouldn’t sound right.
Dear City of Las Vegas,
Let’s be honest, can I be honest? Things just aren’t working out—we both knew this was coming, so don’t act as if you’re surprised. It’s time to be real.
To close out the 2008 spring semester I thought I’d give you something to look forward to: spring semester 2009.
Ah, campaign season: A glorious time when old rich people prance around on television and tell us why they are exactly what this country needs.
“In our brief national history we have shot four of our presidents, worried five of them to death, impeached one and hounded another out of office. And when all else fails, we hold an election and assassinate their character.”
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Illustration by Winter Carrera
Story by Jordan C. Butler
Some puddles, when stomped in, never clear up. The silt mingles with the water and nothing is clear until the water disappears.
“Jesus didn’t know how to party, anyway.”
I walk around the Quad with a lantern and cry incessantly: “University of Nevada tradition is dead. UN tradition remains dead. And we have killed it.”
Western Nevada is a seismic zone similar to Los Angeles and we’re due for a 6.0 or greater earthquake.
Two semesters came and went faster than I had anticipated.