• Format
  • Publications (documents)
• Type
  • Text
• Source institution
  • Western Carolina University
• Identifier
  • HL_WesternCarolinian_1996-09-12_Vol62_No05_10

10 Thursday, September 1219% Op-Ed Stye Wtztevn CICarnltman You Can Go Homo Again. But Why Would You Want Top TONY J. TAYLOR EDITOR One of the interesting things about working on a college paper is the number of freaks that you encounter. Initially, the freak factor was what convinced me to major in journalism. The people will drive you crazy from time to time, but they will never bore you. The problem is that by Thursday of each week, we're so sick of looking at each other that we don't want to spend any more time together than necessary. We all go our separate ways until we are forced to meet again, usally on Monday... and sometimes that's too soon. Last Friday, I decided that I had to get away from everyone. The only problem was finding a place to go. I didn't feel like seeing anyone that I know, and I didn't have the time or money fo faice a trip. Even camping was out beca use of the h urricane. So I jumped in the car and pointed it toward Asheville, thinking that something would come out of it. And as I listened to Asheville's only rock radio station (actually it's more of a redneck southern rock station), the announcer said that there were some high school football games being played that night. I thought about attending a game. Initially, I talked myself out of it by rationalizing that this would be the act of an extremely bored and depraved individual. Since I never attended football games in high school, it didn't seem logical to attend one now. But Friday wasn't a logical day and I convinced myself that if I went to a game at my old high school—Erwin High School—I wouldn't see anyone that I knew. I was somewhat apprehensive about going back to Erwin. After all, I was expelled from the school my junior year and given strict orders by the principal never to return. Of course, this made my trip slightly more enjoyable. Convinced that no one would recognize me after ten years, I made my way to the old stadium. The Erwin High School football stadium says more about Erwin that any other building on the campus. It's old, ragged and lifeless—just like the rest of the school. Erwin's football program is anything but stellar: they lost 31 consecutive games during the 92-95 seasons, and they haven't had a winning team in eight years. This was the year they were supposed to break the 500 mark, but their top player, Thomas Littlejohn, transferred to Asheville High so that he could play in a playoff game before he graduated. Erwin was then relegated back to being the worst team in western North Carolina. Erwin's problems run much deeper than their shitty football program. It's a poor school district with more housing projects than any other district in Buncombe County. That's not including the working class ghettos of Wbodfin and Emma. As I walked in the stadium, the first thing that I noticed was how badly the band was playing the school fight song. I quickly walked past the band and took a seat near the fence to watch the festivities. The Warriors (Erwin's mascot) played well in the first quarter, battling Owen to a 0-0 tie. After that the flood gates opened and Owen scored 21 points in the second quarter to take a 21-0 half-time lead. It was then that I knew the Warriors would go down in defeat once again, so I began to watch the crowd. I quickly discovered that the students at Erwin were so used to losing that they just blocked it out and concentrated on the scene around them. Teenage girls walked by chattering incessantly to one another. I overheard one girl say, "Who are we playing anyway?" The other girl responded: "I don't know." Eventually, a Marine recruiter occupied a space near me and began viciously recruiting kids for the Marine Corps. It became obvious after listening to this parasite for thirty seconds that he didn't care about these kids. His only concern was to persuade as many as he could to enlist in the Marine Corps. To make matters worse, I knew he was lying because I had the same lines used on me before I joined the Marines. He went to the bathroom and told the kids that he would be right back. I immediately started a conversation with the biggest kid. I asked him who that guy was that he was talking to. He said, "A Marine recruiter. He wants me to join the service." I quickly told him that I was an SBI agent and that the recruiter had been trying to sell me crack cocaine just before they came up. They looked shocked and said, "Really?" I told them that I was serious and that he was also into kiddy porn and was probably looking for some new talent. "Holy shit, " one kid said. "Do you think that's what he wants us for?" "Probably," I said. "We've had him under surveillance for two weeks now and we're getting ready to pop that bastard." Then I added, "If I were you guys I would get the hell out of here before it gets ugly." The kids ran off like scared cats and I felt as if I had done my good deed for the day. I spent the rest of the time enjoying my anonymity in a place that was so familar to me. I thought of all the people that I went to high school with and wondered what they were doing now. I walked around the school and reminisced about all the trouble that I caused there. I even caught a glimpse of my old ROTC instructor and saw that he looks like the old, cankerous bastard that I always knew he was. I then realized that the only regret I have about high school is not knowing what happened to my old classmates. I've never been the type to think or care about people six months after they leave my life. At the end of the third quarter, the score was Owen 31, Erwin 0. I realized that another Warrior defeat was inevitable and that I had spent enough time traveling down memory lane. As I got in my car and headed back to Cullowhee, I became grateful for the freaks that I have encountered during my time at Western and for the brief time that I have left here, because college, like high school or any other time of life, only happens once—and no matter how hard you try, you can't go back. atfu> Western (Earoltntan Tony Executive Directors J. Taylor EXECUTIVE EDITOR Associate Editors Anthony McLeod Ads Director Earle Wheeler Art Director Tracy Hart Copy Editor lessica Laverty Editoral Asst. Production Staff James Gray News Ann Wright Features Bryan Sharpe Sports Heather D.'Sheppard Campus Life Graphic Designers Jessica Devaney, Adam Riggsbee Environmental Sean Corcoran Photography Terry K. Roberts Sports Photography Faculty Advisor Kevin Cassels Distribution Gerald McNeely Technical Service Scott Francis Paste-Up & Copy Danielle Siano Jim Sullivan Trey Miles John Moore The Western Carolinian is an official publication of Western Carolina University, produced entirely by the students of W.C.U. Deadline for submissions is Monday at 5 p.m. preceding the Thursday publication date. Student-written copy is appreciated. Staff meetings for Tlie Western Carolinian are held on Mondays at 5:30 on the top floor] of the Old Student Union. Contact us by phone at 227-7267. Office hours are 1-5 ^ Monda-Friday ^y Send letters to the editor, care of the editor: The Western Carolinian P.O. Box 66 Cullowhee, NC 28723 Keep our campus and our planet clean] Please recycle your Western Carolinian.. National Merit Scholar Warns Students Not to Believe the Paper I would like to respond to the editorial titled "If Only I Could Be A Scholar" in the September 5th Western Carolinian. The writer criticized the school for wasting money on full scholarships to National Merit Finalists. There are several errors in the piece that need to be corrected. First of all, the writer incorrectly defines a National Merit Finalist as someone who scored in the top 2% of PSAT scores. In fact, this is the definition of a semifinalist. Finalist standing is determined by PSAT and SAT scores, high school grades, extracurricular activities, and an essay. Finalists represent less than 1% of high school seniors. Second, becoming a National Merit Institution is more than a meaningless status symbol for Western. While it's true that the presence of 10 scholars probably won't affect the quality of your education, National Merit status will help Western's academic reputation. A future employer won't care that you went to school with me, but will care about the kind of college you graduated from. Becoming a National Merit Institution will help Western get the recognition and respect it deserves. Third, Finalists don't have what the writer calls a completely "free ride." The scholarship is a very generous one, but we do have to maintain a fairly high GPA to keep the scholarship for four years. The editorial implied that there is no such requirement. Finally, we don't get to keep the computers when we leave. (I wish we did!) They will be returned to the university after four years. The editorial staff needs to checklts facts more carefully in the future. It is not good journalism to use misinformation to support your views, or to attack a program that you don't know anything about. Students, don't believe everything you read. A National Merit Finalist, Christy Stephenson The facts reported in "If Only I Could Be a Scholar" were based on information provided by Doyle Bickers, Director of Admissions, and Chuck Wooten, Business Affairs and chairman of the committee on the National Merit Program. The facts were reverified and determined to be correct by the sources. Many of the issues discussed in the article are currently being reviewed for possible changes to the program.—Heather D. Sheppard, Campus Life ed. Mart ARCH STANTON STAFF COLUMNIST It has everything you've ever needed! It has hundreds and hundreds of items in stock! Its shelves are filled to the brim with consumables, and its risers are stocked with more delectable items just waiting to be bought! It has that kind, caring hometown feel... you know it, you shop it, IT'S WAL-MART! The opening of this consumerism megalopolis has effected more changes in Jackson County than our esteemed university, such as the re-zoning of city limits and the sudden kind- heartedness of downtown businesses. Indeed, it has surely enabled more local persons to find jobs that pay more than minimum wage. It was as if the Holy Grail had touched the lips of King Arthur, revitalizing the land and uniting the people. And the people were herded through the automatic doors underneath the ever-watchful electronic eye. But something is amiss in the land of commerce. Could it be the lack of open registers? Have my eyes deceived me, or are those registers that are supposed to be open until 8 p.m. never open? Is it just me, or do the greeters seem a little too stressed out with their jobs... mercilessly thrusting carts on innocent women and children, then inexplicably drifting into a comatose stupor? Is it Wal- Mart radio... or the lack thereof, as the brain-numbing Muzak is CONSTANTLY interrupted with unintelligible announcements and sonic death ray beeps? How about the item pricing... as in: there isn't any. All the items in the store are put above an all- encompassing price sticker— that is sometimes there and is sometimes right—making it much easier for the consumer to have no idea how much anything is. Perhaps I am being too cynical. After all, Wal-Mart has a highly-trained armada of employees, whose rigorous training includes a six- to eight-hour computer brainwashing session, blood and urine samples extracted by cybernetic fleas and screened by the living brain of Sam Walton (which resides in a jimmy-rigged aquarium on the third floor of the home office), and a three-hour orientation session during which the employees watch nine hours of video tapes. And the supervising associate managing "coaches" are some of the elite force of competent management. There is never an occasion where contradictory instructions are given (between the night supervisor, the stock associate, the section manager and the resident coach). There is never any question of authority or chain of command (I believe it's either alphabetical or has something to do with anagrams). And though it may appear at first that Wal-Mart has millions of one selected item and is out of stock on everything else, you can bet your ass that the missing item is up there on a riser, possibly in a box... with seven other boxes on top of it. Of course, you would lose your ass. It's all overstock. Wal-Mart has certainly changed our little lives in our little county. It carries the exclusive line of Kathy Lee sweatshops—I mean sweatshirts. Now we save 20c of gas when we go to buy beer. We can save 9c on cheese dip. We can save hours of time by doing all our shopping in the same place... then lose it by searching for prices, walking aimlessly through poorly marked departments, and waiting in line for 20 minutes. Yes, it has everything you've ever wanted... on order. It has hundreds and hundreds... of the same item. Its shelves are faced, and its risers are crumbling under the weight of overstock. It has that sterile, George Orwell nursing home feel. You know, you shop it. Why the hell do we do it? University Writing Center ASK-A-TUTOR ______ ____. f *"_dT § f ±f ■£, ■ v.. '■■':■:.: ■:'■ Monday-Thursday 9:00AM - 9-.oo PM Friday 9.00 AM - 3.00 PM Sunday 6.00 PM - 9.00 PM Documentation (MLA, APA, and Turabian) Punctuation and Grammar Word Choice and Sentence Structure

The Western Carolinian is Western Carolina University's student-run newspaper. The paper was published as the Cullowhee Yodel from 1924 to 1931 before changing its name to The Western Carolinian in 1933.

• Creator
  • Western Carolina University
• Format
  • Publications (documents)
• Type
  • Text
• Date
  • Date original: 1996-09-12
  • Date digitized: 2019-12-04
• Extent
  • Dimension: 22.5" x 14"
  • Pages: 12 pages
• Subject - Topic
  • College student newspapers and periodicals
  • Cullowhee (N.C.) -- Newspapers
  • Universities and colleges -- North Carolina -- Cullowhee -- Newspapers
  • Western Carolina University -- Periodicals
• Location
  • Jackson County (N.C.)
  • Cullowhee (N.C.)
• Source institution
  • Western Carolina University
• Source Collection
  • WCU Students Newspapers Collection
• Identifier
  • HL_WesternCarolinian_1996-09-12_Vol62_No05
• Repository
  • Western Carolina University Hunter Library