Auspicious Objects

In my last post, I briefly mentioned – in polite and fair terms, I think – that I have a great hatred for student dailies published and distributed on college campuses. Now, before I go any further, I will preface that this is entirely directed at the newspapers made on campuses I’ve studied at; obviously, there are many more student publications out there that I have never read, and, although I certainly could read many of them thanks to the proliferation of the internet, I don’t have that much free time on my hands (but since you’re reading this blog that I waste my free time writing, you already know that’s a total lie). The most I venture outside of my small Wisconsin world is pointing my web browser to IvyGate, and while they certainly do their share of ragging on student publications, I’ve still heard that The Daily Pennsylvanian is quite good.

My discontent with students wasting paper goes all the way back (read: less than four years) to my high school days, when our school’s newly-instituted student paper had an illustrious run amounting to about one school year. I honestly don’t remember anything about the paper (not even it’s name), save that the only column anyone enjoyed reading was Heap of the Month (yes, so little happened at our school that the paper was published monthly), where a student would detail the idiosyncrasies and deficiencies with their car. The writer of the column was not gifted with expressive language (you can’t fault him/her though; this was high school after all), but the humor of the situation nevertheless shined through. The paper ceased production my senior year, although no specific reason was given. It probably had something to do with the general laziness of high school students, our school population’s collected loathing of the teacher who oversaw the paper’s production, and the fact that the paper was terrible in every regard. I’m not saying that we should hold high school newspapers to high journalistic standards, but the very least they could have done was prevent it from being little more than a sheet of biased gossip – which is exactly what it became.

But that’s all in the past. We can’t expect a team of high school students looking to pad their college applications to write Pulitzer Prize material, but isn’t it reasonable to demand that a team of college students – who are, for the most part, majoring in journalism – rise above those high school inclinations towards biased, emotionally charged, and/or narcissistic writing? Apparently that’s asking too much. Here I would normally insert a quip about no one caring about this problem because of no one reading the papers, but I know that’s not true; every college campus I’ve been to is populated with students reading their school’s publication(s), and every college campus I’ve been to also has a problem with students discarding issues of the student newspaper on the ground rather than in proper trash receptacles. Obviously, people are reading the papers, and that’s also part of the problem. If a good portion of the student body is reading the student newspaper and simply shrugging off the numerous flaws on the printed page, they are doing nothing to advocate change. Also, the staff of the paper take notice of how many people around campus are reading their work, and their ego automatically inflates itself.

If student newspapers are so bad, though, why are students reading them? The answer is simple, especially if you are or have ever been a college student: boredom. If you have some time in between classes, reading a newspaper – regardless of it’s quality – is a good way to kill time. When I was a student at Point, I had a small gap of time in between my philosophy class and psychology class, which I would regrettably spend reading The Pointer. Even just hearing that name makes me livid to this day. I’ve already said this publicly, and I don’t mind throwing it out again: The Pointer is an absolute piece of garbage. It was before, and it is now. I know that it still has a chance for redemption, as do all student newspapers; we just have to wait for the paper staff to completely change as current members graduate and move on (hopefully not to a career in journalism). The problem, of course, is that the staff does not completely turnover all at once, and this gives current staff time to corrupt new staff and bully them into conforming to shitty journalistic standards. It’s a vicious cycle.

So, why do I loathe The Pointer as much as I do? The biggest problem they have had for the past few years is a completely obvious bias towards the Student Government Association; the two are practically in bed together. For the entirety of the 2008-2009 school year, every week’s front page was either entirely dominated by a cover story detailing some SGA affair, or at the very least, featured a quote from an SGA official on a topic that had nothing to do with SGA. Why would this be the case? As it turns out, many of the current staff have served on SGA at some point in time or have friends in SGA. Look, you’ve got to at least try to maintain a neutral viewpoint when you’re a journalist. My friend Scott Asbach is now the president of SGA. Hypothetically, if I were a journalist for The Pointer and I had to be critical about something stupid SGA did, I wouldn’t hold back, because it wouldn’t be about Scott and I as friends, it would be about Scott and I as SGA president and journalist, respectively. Save your feelings for the op-ed page, where they belong.

Sadly, The Pointer has proven time and time again that they are very bad at maintaining a neutral viewpoint, and this deficiency can be felt even in the executive editorial decisions of the paper. Last year, UWSP suffered the tragic death of a student on-campus. Instead of doing some actual journalism and writing the in-depth article the situation was worthy of, Pointer staff member Justin Glodowski slapped together some official details sloppily and included a quote that sounds like it came from the first person he found anywhere near Thomson Hall:

“I had only met Andrew a few times during the semester, so I couldn’t really call him a good friend of mine because I barely knew him, but he was a nice guy every time I did see him. I know he had a bright future ahead of him and it’s sad his life was taken so soon,” said Ashley Tabaka.

Thanks for that, Ashley. You really offered some insightful perspective into Andrew’s life. Now just stick that quote in between a few paragraphs poorly rephrasing the official coroner’s report, and Justin is out of the office by five. But wait, let’s not be too harsh on our friend Justin just yet! He is the same guy who wrote this article – which took up the front page of the paper – about a former student at UWSP who went missing in California. It even has pictures! But why would we give so much more attention to an alumni who went missing on the other end of the country from Point’s campus? If you guessed that it was because she had friends in SGA, you are growing wise to the ways of The Pointer. Like most articles in the paper last year, this one starts with a quote from Katie Kloth, then-president of SGA. I’m not saying this shouldn’t warrant press coverage – certainly the disappearance of a person is tragic and important – but the imbalance of coverage between these two events is not only unprofessional, it’s downright insulting.

The Pointer has cleaned up it’s act a little bit this year, revamping it’s front page design and losing some of the SGA love (though I’m not sure if that’s due to a change in writing staff or a change in SGA presidency), but it’s still not as good as it could – nay, should – be. I am not quite sure what is holding it back, but I think it may have something to do with the person who wrote the worst student newspaper article ever now running the paper. Go ahead, click on that link, read that article, and I defy you to not shake your head in the process. There is no substance to it whatsoever. It does not even attempt to masquerade as journalism. It’s simply naval-gazing of the lowest form published in the completely wrong medium (it should be on blogs like this, if anywhere), and nothing more. My favorite quote:

I chose to write with a pen name because of the high profile I hold on campus.

It makes me laugh because this “high profile” is largely self-imagined (as I can tell you from being on campus when this was written), and perfectly sums up the vein, narcissistic nature of many college journalists. I have a lot more to say on this subject – and really, I think I could go on for days – but I’m getting way too angry to continue, so I’ll just leave you with that.

Next time (if there is a next time) on “Surely You’re Joking, Mr. Klug!“, we’ll look at sex columnists, Burnellgate, terrible attempts at impersonating The Onion, crappy newspaper comics, and we’ll also take shots at both The Daily Cardinal and The Badger Herald. Oh boy.

Surely You're Joking, Mr. Klug! anger, college, idiocy, wisconsin

After that overwrought last post, it seems I’ve been unmotivated to write in this online journal of mine. But after the denial of service attacks on Twitter yesterday and John Hughes dying, I felt there was only one thing I could do: dance. And then come on here and write a little bit.

This past weekend, my cousin Matt got hitched, and at the reception, I realized something about myself: I do not enjoy dancing when other people around me are also dancing. As hard as I tried, I could not rouse myself to go crazy on the dance floor at the reception, though that probably also had something to do with the DJ playing terrible music the entire time. Still, I was complimented on my performance during “You Spin Me Round (Like a Record)” by Dead or Alive.

This epiphany led me to appreciate one of my favorite past times, dancing at work, much more than I used to. The music video for “Canned Heat” by Jamiroquai has been playing on the TVs in the video store this month, and while my dancing is not as crazy as Jay Kay’s, I’ve been busting a move every time it comes on. Dancing is so much more rewarding when everyone around you finds it either confusing or inappropriate.

Blog idiocy, music

First, some stuff for the freshmen…

Recently I received a complimentary issue of a particular student newspaper in the mail. On the front page was a large picture of a group of “incoming freshmen” sitting on the lawn in front of one of the university campus’ landmarks during freshman orientation. Since it wasn’t an official university photograph, no one in the picture was smiling, or even pretending to have fun. In a way, their collective expression of unhappiness seems like a conscious effort, as if to forewarn future freshmen that will be in their shoes, not just in the coming months, but also next year, and the year after that, and so forth. The realization that freshman orientation isn’t typically a pleasant experience does not take long to sink in; most universities open their orientation sessions (which often span two days) with a speech presented by a figurehead of the institution that no one in the room will recognize.

And the long, arduous speeches continue throughout the day. But is orientation as useless as many seem to think? Well, for some, it provides a safe opportunity to make friends and acquaintances before move-in day. On the flip side, this can be dangerous and potentially damaging to your freshman experience, because it’s hard to gauge who you will get along with and who you won’t within the span of a day or two. It’s kind of like the aforementioned move-in day, when you decide to meet everyone on your floor in the dorm. Sure, you may live next to someone who could eventually become your best friend at college, but what if the guy one door further down is a complete asshole? What if you and your roommate accidentally attract the attention of a pathological liar, or a narcissist who talks about him/herself for hours on end? You could be in for a rough living situation. If you and your orientation friends don’t end up in the same dorm building and if you’re not in the same major, you may not stay friends for very long. I myself made many “friends” at orientation, none of whom I kept in contact with once starting school.

On the other hand, freshman orientation is great real-world job experience, as it is basically the same thing as corporate teambuilding sessions (that is to say, no one wants to be there except for the people organizing it). How many icebreakers can one endure in one day? Why is time moving so slowly? Do I really care about the ice cream flavor of choice for the guy sitting next to me? Did I really pay money to be here?

…And now some stuff for everyone interested in me.

Thankfully, I had a much more pleasant experience with my transfer orientation last week than I did with my freshman orientation two years ago. Neither of my parents could come (just like last time), so I was dropped off in the morning and promptly started limping my way to the building I thought I was supposed to be in. I limped across a very long and empty corridor and met a man standing at the other side, who told me I was in the wrong building. Wah wah wahhhhh. Eventually I did reach the building where the festivities were being held after stalking following another student and her mother. I got my name tag and sat down in a very large lecture hall filled with other transfer students.

I noticed that almost no one in the room seemed to be talking to anyone else, unless they were with a friend they already knew or with their parents. It was a radical departure from the outgoing and eager nature many people displayed at my freshman orientation. I don’t think this is to be attributed to a collective shyness; rather, we all had the transfer student mindset, and were more cynical at the prospect of making friends at an orientation session. I decided that I would make an earnest attempt to become acquainted with at least one person. At first I was going to “cheat” and find someone else who attended Stevens Point, but I quickly realized this was futile. I think I may have been the only person from my school there that day. At our speaker’s urging, everyone in the lecture hall turned to their left or right and made awkward conversation with the person next to them. Mine went something like this (note: I don’t remember the guy’s name, so let’s call him “Kyle”):

Me: Hey, I’m Dave. What’s your name?
Kyle: I’m Kyle. I’m transferring from Marathon County.
Me: Marathon County? That’s pretty close to Stevens Point, where I’m coming from.
Kyle: Yep.
Me: So, I suppose you’re transferring because Marathon County is a two-year institution?
Kyle: Yep.
Me: That makes sense. It would be kind of bad to go through two years of schooling and just stop without a degree.
Kyle’s Mom: (Laughs)
Me: (Thinking to self) I’m glad my poor and awkward attempt at humor has actually induced laughter. Oh wait, she’s probably just humoring me.

While “Kyle” and I did have a nice “chat”, I feel there was an unspoken acceptance between us that we would never be friends. We were just two guys forced into a situation requiring cooperation. Such is the social networking selectiveness of a transfer student. After the speaker was finished, everyone was divided up according to the college they were planning to enter, and the colleges split off from each other. I personally rep the College of Letters and Science (what what!), so naturally I went with them. Further information on breadth requirements and registration followed, so let’s fast forward to the “free” lunch, two hours later. The “free” lunch was a much-hyped break from class registration. All of the orientation staff referred to it explicitly as the ”free lunch,” which leads me to believe there is a stipulation in their contract that says they must always include the word “free” before mentioning lunch. Still, this exchange took place between me and an orientation peer mentor:

Peer Mentor: We’re going to the free lunch in five minutes.
Me: So I guess there really is such a thing as a free lunch?
Peer Mentor: (Frowns) Well, actually, I think part of your orientation fee is for your lunch.
Me: …Oh.

Yes, I was all about the bad humor and corny jokes that day. Regardless, the “free” lunch offered another social opportunity to meet other transfer students in the same boat as me. At the very least, it offered an opportunity to eat lunch outside on a beautiful day. I aimlessly wandered around the area where everyone was eating and picked a random table to sit at. I sat down and realized that the guy next to me, like the first guy (Kyle), was from Marathon County. Small world. The girl across the table from me was from Waukesha, which is in the same part of Wisconsin as my hometown, so that provided some conversation fodder as well. I switched on my extrovert personality and moderated the discussion between the three of us, inadvertently leaving out another guy who was also sitting at the table. Eventually, an orientation staff member invited herself to our table and interrupted the conversation. I think her job was to moderate lunch table discussions, but I was already doing well with that, so she relinquished herself to mostly listening. Our conversation was fairly Wisconsin-orientated, and since she was from New York, we had to divert course to more general collegiate topics. Did I mention my sandwich was hard as a rock? I think I could have removed my own wisdom teeth if I had jammed the bread far enough into my mouth.

After lunch, I enrolled for my classes at precisely 1:00 pm, and a few signatures of approval later, I was sent on my marry way. I definitely appreciated the “cutbacks” the university applied to the transfer orientation program. To apply the mandatory bad analogy, it fit like a well-tailored suit. So what have I learned? Well, I learned that orientation isn’t painful as long as it is preceded by the word “transfer” instead of the word “freshman.” Also, I learned that transfer students are innately cynical, but that’s just our nature, as influenced by our environment and situation, unique to us as a group on campus. We rule.

Blog college, idiocy, wisconsin

Damn you, Achilles. I thought I could forget about ancient Greek legend after 8th grade, but alas…

Last week, I was going for a morning run with my brother. We started running together a few weeks ago, neither of us with any prior running experience, bar “the mile” back in middle and high school. Things had been going well considering we never consulted anyone regarding how to run correctly (which is kind of stupid since we have cousins that work at Fleet Feet in Madison), but on this particular day I felt a sharp pain in my foot as we started jogging down the street. Rather than say anything, I shrugged it off and continued to run. 25 minutes later, and near the end of our “course”, we ascended a steep hill with a large incline, and suddenly the pain in my foot worsened ten fold.

After “cooling down” to walking pace, I began limping and walking soon became an arduous task in and of itself. Cut to yesterday when I finally went to the doctor (one week after injuring myself) and was diagnosed with achilles tendinitis, which Wikipedia claims is “common among athletes training under less than ideal conditions.” That sentiment makes me feel like some kind of backyard hero, a sort of underdog in the running world who fell from glory because of situational causes. Realistically though, this is the result of my own stupidity, and besides, Usain Bolt probably trained in an even more hostile environment than me, and look at what he has accomplished.

I can’t help but feel this is karmic retribution for me making fun of my boss, who recently jumped off of a balcony and broke his foot while intoxicated. There was simply too much comedic potential in the situation to restrain myself. So now, for the time being, we’re both limping. There’s an upside though; I can pretend I’m Brother Mark from A Better Tomorrow.

That’s me, out for vengence.

Blog hong kong, idiocy