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My relationship with Halloween is what you might call “complicated.” I love the creativity and positive energy of our students dressing up. I love this Gaucho spirit and unity. Only at UCSB do you see your Chancellor, Vice-Chancellor, and Dean of Students come out to greet the crowds of students on D.P. on Halloween night.
I don’t like the violence, ass grabbing, fighting, property damage, and all the trash. Last year, Halloween fell on a Friday. In spite of the rain, over 45,000 people came to I.V. There were over 230 arrests made and 560 citations given out (instead of treats). 55 people were transported for emergency care and over 50 cars were towed. Two people fell off the cliffs.
This year we will have around 250 police officers on the streets, on horses, and conducting DUI checkpoints. But, if we have the same or more visitors as last year, it will take more than just the police to keep the peace over the weekend. Here are a few simple things you can do to help: (more…)
There’s only one thing on Earth better than the Slap Chop. And that’s the Slap Chop Rap.
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In the wake of last week’s blog, I spent the week mulling over the sinking feeling that something is not quite right in our world—that maybe there’s something missing. I think everyone gets this feeling from time to time: Most of the time the answer is common sense or good taste. For me—at least this time—neither satisfied.
So between alternating gulps of antidepressants and tears, I sought desperately to answer the question of what’s missing in my life. And then it hit me.
In what kind of unjust world do I have to separate my sushi and my sleeping?
And then the good Lord Jesus Christ bestowed upon me a marvelous gift—something far better than inheriting the Earth (which I’ve heard isn’t that great anyway).
The quantity of really strange people in our world is pretty staggering. For those who consider themselves at least semi-normal, these people are pretty hard to ignore. They’re everywhere: you can find them in the form of the roommate who sleeps on a university mattress without sheets. Or the 40-year-old next door neighbor who carries vodka-seltzer water to her car, only to return with a package of Depends. Or maybe the thug who gets beat up outside of your house and leaves torn-out dreadlocks behind—all over your car—as his only calling card.
Not that any of this comes from personal experience, of course.
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