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I like to think I know Larry Moneta better than most students. I met him the first week of my freshman year. I was in a bind because a bunch of boxes I had shipped from home had yet to arrive. My mom freaked out, but L-Mo calmly led us to a RLHS office that could help us find our lost packages.
Around this time last year, I was sitting in a high school newsroom, querying staff as to the precise meaning of mysteriously oft-referenced "brackets." People actually watch college basketball, you say?
Allow me to explain the founding of the facebook.com group Campus Jihad for Allah. It began in K-Ville last year, where the evangelical Christian group CRU was handing out mugs decorated with its logo. I soon discovered CRU stands for Campus CRUsade for Christ. Though I am a Christian, I thought it odd that any religious group on campus should adopt the word "crusade" as part of its name while facing little or no criticism. Sure the alliteration is nice, but we all know that the word "crusade" refers to the centuries-long Christian military campaign to seize the Holy Land from its occupants. The Crusades were wars fueled by ignorance and hate that resulted in the senseless deaths of thousands of Muslims and Jews. In the context of Christianity, the word "crusade" carries this violent connotation, and as a Christian, I feel that the Crusades leave a stain on my religion. In contrast, the word "jihad" is more important to most Muslims as a peaceful spiritual struggle, which could reasonably be included in the name of a Muslim student organization.
There are two important parties at Duke, and I'm not talking about politics. I'm talking about the partiers and the non-partiers. I'm not sure what percentage of people fall into each group, but there are probably more non-partiers than you think; they just aren't too visible. It's not like your partying gets interrupted by the guy quietly studying down the hall.
J.J. Redick has been bombarded by the media, taunted by opposing fans and even stalked by an entire Wal-Mart staff while grocery shopping.
The loss of Elliott Wolf's server as a resource for watching and downloading movies, television shows and Duke basketball games left a void in many students' lives (especially the lonely ones). This is understandable. What could be better, on a college campus, than a one-stop location to view any missed TV program, or nearly any popular movie?
As it is every year, it was one of the most anticipated days of the year.
Head Line Monitor Lauren Troyer proclaimed this year's K-ville a great success in a recent Chronicle article ("Tenting season ends with mixed reviews," March 8). Earlier in the article, another student admitted that he got into the game by walking into line just minutes before tip-off due to poor control by the line monitors. As someone who waited for more than two days outside to get into my final home game at Duke, and ultimately did not get in, I can confirm that line monitors did not maintain any semblance of control.
No one grows wheat in Wheatfield, Indiana. They grow corn. They grow soybeans. And in this rural farming community with an official population of 772 grew Matt Wicker. Wicker, senior class president at Kankakee Valley High School, one of Jasper County's two high schools. Wicker, a member of the Environmental Club, a Kougar Krazie, a National Honor Society selectee. Wicker, a Blue Devil? He hopes. And waits for April.
Senior Chinedu Okpukpara arrived in Krzyzewskiville an hour before the men's basketball game against the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill Saturday night.
We were deeply disappointed by Sarah Hosstetter's March 7 letter, which accused the UNC Robertson scholars who attended Saturday night's game of behaving in a shameful, appalling, cowardly and classless manner. As representatives of our home school, we went to a great effort not to warrant any of those claims and to respect the traditions of both schools.
It's 6:30 p.m. in the Duke Coffeehouse, and the student band Makeshift is on stage. Unlike usual performances, however, saxophonist Chauncey Nartey, a junior, is facing the back wall as he releases a quavering, deliberate peal over the riffs of his bandmates and into the head of a recording mic. On the surrounding couches sit juniors Pulsar Li, Alex Cornell, Ian Holljes and Clint Twaddell, among others. Bombadil and the Pulsar Triyo have already performed, and Twaddell is on deck.
As someone who tented from Jan. 10 to March 4, I feel it is necessary to say that this year's tenting process was run in an incompetent fashion (though by nice people). I hope in future years the following problems from this year, among others, are not repeated:
Unknown to the majority of Cameron Crazies, students loyal to a different shade of blue took part in the sacred tradition of tenting in Krzyzewskiville this year.
The bonfire tradition remains, although not without provisos.
Unknown to the majority of Cameron Crazies, students loyal to a different shade of blue took part in the sacred tradition of tenting in Krzyzewskiville this year.
The Worldwide Leader in Sports will take the nation's premier college rivalry to a whole new level this weekend.
As Americans, we believe in the power of freedom-free speech, freedom of the press and a free market economy are just a few of the core values we hold in high esteem.
Last year it seemed as if anyone with a semester of Econ 51 under his belt, a conservative leaning and a bit of free time took the opportunity to characterize the campaign for a living wage at Duke as ignorant, frivolous, even as one Chronicle columnist noted "a sick manifestation of the natural human will-to-power"-whatever that means.
Freshman tenter Tristan Patterson put a price tag on the invaluable when he attempted Feb. 16 to sell his ticket to the Duke-University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill game for $3,000 over the Internet. He was quickly exposed by a line monitor's sting.
