As August winds down, it’s time for college students to return to their studies. And students returning to Colorado University will each face the mother of all decisions when moving into dorms: smoking? Or non-smoking? Not cigarettes, mind you, but barrels.
After losing an appeals case in the Colorado State Supreme Court, CU must now allow concealed weapons permit-holding students to live in campus housing. In response, they have set aside family housing units in Boulder and upperclassmen dorms in Colorado Springs for those who can’t bear to sign their arms away in campus police lockers.
James Manley, the attorney who represented the student guns-rights group in court (and most appropriately named proponent of holstered penises everywhere), will be examining this segregated living arrangement along with restrictions forbidding them from taking their weapons into non-smoking dorms and ticketed sprting and cultural events on campus. Student life-rights activists have countered, arguing that all gunshot victims are technically secondhand gunsmoke victims.
A dorm named after a Klansman? Who would’ve thought that might create an issue?
“You know, from time to time, we’re reminded of ugly periods in our nation’s history regarding civil rights by situations like this,” said UT Board of Regents member Printice Gary. “The question, then, is, ‘What do you do?’ and ‘How does the community respond to these types of challenges?'”
Answer: most people tend to amend the situation so that we’re never again reminded of the ugly periods. That can include, but is not necessarily limited to, renaming the dorm a long time ago.
Once again, Alabama is trying to kill me.
I woke up at 4 am this morning to the soundtrack from Pearl Harbor. No, not Michael Bay’s crapwork of a film. I mean air raid sirens. I leapt out of bed and fumbled with the alarm clock for a little bit–at first, to mistakenly turn it off, and then to turn on the radio to find out what the hell was going on.
I couldn’t find the radio button, so I scrambled to the living room. On the way, I tripped over the vacuum cleaner, careening it into the cockatiel’s cage and freaking him out. For good measure, I also yelled out the cat’s name while stubbing my toe on the coffee table.
Continue reading Take it from Snee: Alabama is still trying to kill me