Latest Posts:
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Written somewhere on the walls of U92’s DJ staff area is the phrase “College radio is dying, friends are forever.” While I regret to quote the person that uttered it, it remains an unfortunate reality that those in positions of power must confront. WWVU-FM is not an exception. Over one and a half years I associated myself with the station, I searched for a solution. There isn’t one.
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During my third year of studying Computer Science, I wanted to vary up my schedule and add an English class to mix things up. I ended up taking Multimedia Writing, an upper-level English class intended for writers and designers. Despite being unnecessary for my degree, that class ended up being an incredibly valuable learning experience for me.
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For as long as I can remember, I’ve found the smell of cigarettes comforting. In the far reaches of my memory are scenes of my grandfather’s kitchen, where I sat waiting for him while he was out on the porch. The door opens as someone enters the house, and I catch the ethereal scent of cigarette smoke as the door quickly closes behind them. I don’t have a particularly close connection to my grandfather, or even his house for that matter. Nonetheless, any time I notice the smell, it brings a wave of comfort and pleasant feelings.
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There isn’t enough room in this fucking town. Too many cars on the road, too many people in the streets. Too many bad landlords and musty clubs. Too many deadbeat townies and entitled students. Everyone has an opinion of Morgantown: it’s rusty, it’s dusty. It’s too boring, it’s too wild. It’s hard to pin down what exactly Morgantown is to the diverse set of people that inhabit it. That being said, this town is an intersection, a rest stop, for so many people. Morgantown is never really an intentional destination. You always just “end up” there for one reason or another. How did I end up here, in this small town packed to the brim?
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The better the medicine, the more frequent the usage. As usage increases, the urge to increase dosage arises, and addiction settles. This is how addiction works in my mind, though I’m sure the reality doesn’t match up to my own perception. When I think of apathy, I consider it in the same way that I consider my bullshit theory for addiction. Apathy is needed in small doses; you can’t care about everything, to try is a fruitless and maddening task. In the same vein, caring about nothing is as equally as terrible. Apathy breeds sloth and sloth breeds the other ‘a’: atrophy. I of course, say these things with the same ignorant confidence that I present my “addiction theory,” however in my own experiences this is what I’ve found to be true.
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