FADerall: The critics who cried crisis
By Caitlin Carver | gargoyle@flagler.edu
“Academic Doping!” “College Crack!” cry the news articles, which all seem to portray the 20.4 million college students in this country as amphetamine fiends.
Opinion
The revolution will not be televised. It will be…..shouted?
By Michael Newberger | gargoyle@flagler.edu
Our economy is in flames, unemployment across the country is at an average of 9 percent, homes are still foreclosing at an alarming rate, and “Dancing With The Stars” is one of the highest rated shows in the country. The American people have every right to be angry.
Shelter animals: companions for life
By Mari Pothier | gargoyle@flagler.edu
Photo by Mari Pothier
The first time I saw Toby he was curled up on a green towel in a metal pen, outside of Petco.
He was part of an animal rescue organization called Paw Safe in Tampa. I really didn’t bother with the little terrier mutt, who had brown, wiry fur and was nothing more than skin and bones, because a howling beagle who was his cage mate stole my attention. I was 13-years-old and my family had no intention of getting a dog anytime soon. So little did I know that the little terrier scruff, lying sadly on a towel would become one of my greatest pals.
Live life for life, not for today
By Phil Grech | gargoyle@flagler.edu
When I was still tattooing in south Florida, people were getting carpe diem tattoos like people buy tacos from Taco Bell. That analogy is bad because it implies we specialized in carpe diem tattoos, but you get the idea: lots of carpe diem tattoos getting pumped out on a regular basis.
That brings me into a thought I’ve had recently: we all want to know how to live our lives and sadly, we spend so much of our lives trying to figure that out.
Second Chance Spree
By Eliza Jordan | ejordan@flagler.edu
Sometimes giving it a second chance isn’t always the best route.
Today was the last day that I have ever and will ever taste a Spree candy.
It was my last attempt to see if I didn’t like the colorful, bitter taste that I had remembered tasting years before.
I popped the little green Spree in my mouth. Apple, almost. I was expecting it to taste somewhat like a green apple SourHead. Maybe even an original apple lollipop.
Finding Oviedo— A blessing in disguise
By Eliza Jordan | ejordan@flagler.edu
Nothing.
I huffed and puffed about yet another thing bugging me.
I checked again: still nothing.
Odds and ends like condiments, pickles and chocolate syrup filled my fridge. I needed to go to the grocery store, but creating the grocery list and executing it would have taken more time than I had set aside for.
Speeding Through Life
By Eliza Jordan | gargoyle@flagler.edu
He slowed his voice down and commanded my attention.
“Eliza,” he said, “exactly how many many head traumas have you had?”
I tried to calm my fidgety foot and thought about all of the other things that were pre-occupying my racing mind.
“2.” I said, “well, 8.” I corrected my sloppy thoughts with a simple math equation.
Social networking: more than a place for friends
By Gena Anderson | ganderson@flagler.edu
It was a late July night when the sound of my vibrating phone on my nightstand woke me from my sleep. The bright glow of the LCD screen burned my retinas as I squinted to read that I had a message from Facebook. Ren Anderson would like to be your friend on Facebook. I set the phone down ignoring this person I assumed was probably from high school and fell peacefully back into my slumber.
New ads hinting at domestic violence offends the ‘unoffendable’
By Amber James | gargoyle@flagler.edu
One in every four women will experience domestic violence in her lifetime, according to the National Violence Against Women Survey.
This woman could be your sister or mother, your next door neighbor, the cashier at the supermarket, the sales associate who starts you a dressing room. She could be your best friend, your boss’s wife or our co-worker. She could be… the model in an advertisement in our favorite fashion magazine, trying to sell a suit or haircut at the expense of domestic violence?
Sept. 11, 2001: Looking back on a generation’s loss of certainty
By Michael Newberger | mnewberger@flagler.edu
My day started like any goofy middle schooler. I put on my jean shorts, applied a liberal amount of hair gel to perfect the “spiked flip” look, and got in my mother’s mini-van to go to school. It was Sept. 11, 2001, and I was 11 years old.
The first sign anything was amiss came at my locker. Some kid came up and said a plane had struck the World Trade Center. No one believed him. We thought maybe a small Cessna could have crashed into the towers.