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Two of the three supply boats exclusively carrying Crystal Light.

Adhering to tradition ensures UW's future

First things first: Wisconsin’s offense needs to get on the same page, the special teams need to fix whatever happened on that punt, the defense needs to stop waiting until their opponent is beyond midfield to start making stops, the mistakes and penalties need to be cut down and Jonathan Taylor needs to be a serious Heisman candidate.

Bob Gannon, spirited state Assemblyman, dies of natural causes

Rep. Bob Gannon, R-West Bend, passed away from natural causes Tuesday night at the age of 58.

Hordes of optimistic pre-med freshmen strain expectations, consistently disappoint everyone

The number of students choosing the pre-med track has skyrocketed this September thanks to ball-busting pressure from parents and the false, fantasized day in a doctor’s life portrayed by Grey’s Anatomy (which was originally an anatomical textbook). However, this influx is misleading; the number of doctors who attended UW-Madison for their undergraduate education has little to no correlation to the number of students who are currently claiming they will be doctors. According to highly trusted sources—that, opposed to what your high school English teacher taught you, do not need to be named to be credible to the general public—an astounding 83.2 percent of pre-med students at the beginning of their freshman year had all switched career plans by January of the same academic year.

The family of Yu Chen, 43, who was killed last month by a university-owned boat while windsurfing on Lake Mendota is poised to request a Dane County judge to release additional evidence from the incident.

Family seeking evidence in case of windsurfer killed by UW Lifesaving boat

State, county and university officials will be asked to turn over key evidence in the case of a windsurfer who died when he was struck from behind by a UW-Madison rescue boat May 31 in Lake Mendota.

James Comey: I thought I was done with this job

The exasperation was palpable across fired FBI director James Comey’s face on Thursday morning as he traipsed through the ordeal of sitting in a government building for reasons other than obtaining a boating license.“To be honest, I’d rather eat radioactive waste by myself  than dine with President Trump,” Comey said, clearing his throat into the microphone. “I was really looking forward to a kitesurfing vacation with an eccentric billionaire like Richard Branson, and I am disheartened by the fact that Washington wants me back.”Laptop keyboards at the hands of Politico and Buzzfeed reporters were hammering away as Comey blasted away one-liner after one-liner of his time working with progressively inept members of the Trump administration.Former FBI officials agree that Comey’s experience as a fired FBI director is not commonplace, owing to exceptional levels of political and social turmoil across the federal government after the installation of dysfunctional executive staff with record-low levels of political skill.“Hopefully this hearing only lasts one day,” Comey said, “and I’d prefer them to put me up in the Watergate. I’d rather have my phones tapped than stay in that disasterpiece of a hotel Trump built down the street.Trump likes tweeting about his tapes. The American people want to see some tapes—namely those tapes with the call girls and the golden shower from the Russian hotel. WikiLeaks could prove itself useful and make that information public.“It’s unfortunate that Bannon isn’t present, front-row, at these hearings. Seeing as he’s the maniac who orchestrated this; why blame the ushers for a bad show?“And Kellyanne Conway…” Comey lamented, “conversations with her are like talking to a Chia Pet.”

Windsurfer killed by boat on Lake Mendota

The boat that fatally struck a windsurfer on Lake Mendota Wednesday evening was a rescue launch from the UW Lifesaving Station returning from a rescue call.

Many warnings of sexual assault on campus, but few arrests ever follow

With a vibrating buzz or a quiet ding, a student at Camp Randall Stadium for this year’s commencement would have checked their phone two dozen times to find warnings of nearby sexual assaults during their last four years at UW-Madison.

Nowhere

This the first installment of a new mysterious story that will be released in multiple parts over the remainder of the semester. “Nowhere” follows the story of Hannah in her search for her friend Cade and takes place right on the UW-Madison campus. The story begins on Lake Mendota in the middle of winter. Our next installment will be released April 3.Cade is unflinchingly honest. I’m not listening, and the night is quiet and clear. “This is a bad idea,” Cade says, sinking his hands deep into the pockets of his Carhartt. “Hannah.” He means for me to come back. “We’ll just stay away from the thin ice,” I laugh. “It’s still solid.”Levi lets out a huff and watches his breath plum in a slow curling cloud above him; he hikes up the collar of his black peacoat. Even in the dark, I can see the warning glance in his grey eyes as I climb over the rocks behind Memorial Union and out onto the ice of Lake Mendota. “Goddamn it, Hannah,” Cade says and reluctantly he, then Levi, follow me. The sound of a night train rumbles from the other side of campus. The hazy glow of the Capitol, the castle-like Red Gym, the lights of the Union Theater, all behind us now. I turn around to see the boys. “Woah.” My breath also climbs up above, away from me. “Look at it reflecting on the ice,” I say. I pull out my phone and point the camera at Cade and Levi with the lights behind them. The auto focus jumps from Levi to the Union Theater, underexposed then blown out—dark, blurry images. “You’ll never get a good one,” Cade says. “You just have to look at it, and hope you remember it right.” I roll my eyes. Levi stands motionless staring at his Converse against the ice; he lets out a deep sigh and watches his breath rise and disappear into the clear night sky. I slip and fall. Levi’s gaze snaps down to me, “You’re drunk. Go home,” he says with a small smile. “You’re drunk. You go home,” I say. “It’s not even midnight.” “OK, Hannah,” Cade helps me up then mutters under his breath, “That statement would have been true an hour ago.” His hands are winter-dry and cracked; he never wears gloves. He holds his hands out to make sure I’m OK. I laugh. As we move further onto the ice, Cade develops the concern of a worried chirp when I almost slip—that kind of genuine tenderness on the brink of a laugh, and a caution in the way he watches me to make sure I don’t slip in that half-second of complete confidence after I get my balance back. Levi stops suddenly, “Hannah, did you hear that?” I listen, a sound like a metal cable snapping and then a low resonant groan. “It sounds like the Titanic going down.”“It must be the ice heaving apart, you know,” Levi says.“Like the bigger pieces breaking and settling,” I add. Cade kneels and brushes the loose snow from the ice. He plants his hands squarely,  heavy on the smooth surface. “I wonder if I could feel that, the ice breaking.” The sound comes booming again, reaching us distantly from the far part of the lake. I watch a smile grow slowly across Cade’s face. “As long as it’s not breaking under us,” Levi says. Cade laughs, balling his hands into fists, and pounds on the thick ice underneath us.Something pounds back. “Cade?” I say. He pounds on the ice again. The response from the underside is frantic, quickening, terrified. “There’s something under the ice. I can’t see,” says Cade. I pull up the flashlight on my phone and shine it on the ice, but it’s too thick and too white to make out anything beyond it. Levi, looking a little confused, does the same. The underside goes into a frenzy; there’s a blinding flash that lights the ice beneath us. We run for shore. Levi sprints ahead; I follow him, and Cade a short distance behind. Then I hear a cracking sound—thin ice. Cade yells, then goes silent. I turn around and make out the dark glare of open water. I inch beside the edge of the break. I see him; his face upturned, eyes wide and terrified, fists clenched against the cold and his body slowly marbling a waterlogged blue as he sinks gently. I grab his hood and then the back of his jacket and pull at him. He reaches, grasping for the edge of the thicker ice. He pulls himself onto the ice and lies coughing. “Cade, get up,” I plead. “We have to get off the ice.” He stands and stumbles with the cold working its way up against his wet skin. When we get back to shore he slumps against the rocks, lit with the soft glow of the lights of the union. Levi stands, shaking on the concrete above us. He pulls at the collar of his coat and yells down at us. “What was that?!”I try to take off my wet coat but the soaking sleeves cling and bunch at my wrists. My heart is racing. I’m shaking. I cough because I can’t catch my breath. Cade is even worse. “Hannah!” Levi says.“I don’t know, Levi! Alright! I don’t know.” I look up at him standing above me; he looks small with his arms drawn into his chest. He’s shaking too. “I just want to go home,” I say.  He’s quiet for a long moment, “Do you want me to walk you home?”I shake my head. Levi hesitates, like he’s going to say something, then just nods. “OK,” he says. He turns back toward State Street, synching his arms tighter to his chest, he wavers as he walks away.I look at Cade, lying against the cold rocks, coughing. I pull at his arm. “Can you stand?” He does. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.” He stumbles and grabs onto my arms. He looks at me with wild eyes. “I don’t want to be here,” he says. “I don’t want to stay in the lake.”“I’ll get you home, Cade. I promise.”The night goes dark and loses all detail on the walk home. The empty streets echo the rumble of empty busses. The streetlights flare and flicker as we pass under them. We stop as the train crossing flashes across Union South. A night train looms in the dark coming toward us. “I’ve been here before,” Cade says suddenly while shaking badly.“Yeah, Cade, you live down the street.” I say. “No, Hannah. I’ve been here so many times, and you’ll be here again too,” he says. His head whips wildly back-and-forth and his breathing quickens. He brushes his damp hair from his forehead and starts hyperventilating. “Cade,” I say. I don’t really know what to say. “In the water, di-did you, like hit your head?” Really I was pleading that this is not what I think it is. That this won’t be one of the nights Cade locks himself in and sits in the middle of a dark room too terrified to move and calls me at 2 a.m., to say it’s bad again. “Cade?” It’s me pleading that this isn’t that. Not here, not out in the street in the dark while he is drenched and half-frozen and shaking so hard I can feel it in my bones. He looks to his left and right and over his shoulder. The train blows its whistle and his shoulders jerk up suddenly as his shaking becomes more violent.“Hannah.” He means he’s scared. Unflinchingly honest—at least he is with me. “Hold on,” I say. The muscles around his mouth pull tight; he’s really trying not to lose it. He balls the fabric of my jacket in his hands and a thin layer of ice flakes off. “I don’t want to be here,” he says again. “Not the nowhere. The white wall, not here,” he stutters. I get him in his apartment. I bundle towels from the bathroom in my arms and give them to him, like they are mine to give. I’m bad at taking care of people. He’s gone white and stares off vacantly. I leave his keys and phone on the counter. I help him take off his coat and drape a towel over his shoulders. After that I just kind of watch him for a while. I lean against the front door frame.“Cade?” He turns to me and his brow furrows together.“Hannah,” he says. He means it’s OK if I go. He nods lightly. We’ve always been like that, strangely attuned to meanings, understanding the odd familiarities of each other’s voice in the recital of our own names. All the conversations I remember best are only our soft-spoken names repeated back-and-forth between us. The next morning, walking to College Library, the sun is unseasonally bright. When I turn from University Street onto Park Street, I see the yellow police tape coloring the far end along the lake. Then I see Levi’s stiff, narrow shoulders under the weight of his peacoat; the collar still hiked around his neck. I come up beside him, shuffling between the others that stand in the sun that feels too bright and stare out at the lake. The water just beyond the union is open and police boats and campus rescue troll the confined free water. Men in thick navy coats, emboldened with the large, white letters of POLICE, hang over the sides of the boats with poles and pickaxes breaking the still-standing ice into chunks that fall and rise beside them in the water. “What’s going on?” I ask.One of the policemen nearby answers, “There was a call that someone went through the ice last night.” He pauses. “We’re looking for them.” The pounding on the ice—what if there was someone underneath us? What if they needed help and we just ran away to leave them there, trapped under the ice, alone? I grab Levi’s sleeve and pull him back. “Do you think that had something to do with last night?” I say in sharp, hushed tones. He looks at me, confused. “Whatever that sound was.” He looks at me like he doesn’t understand what I’m saying. I try again, “When Cade was beating on the ice…”His face draws itself tight in a succession of indecipherable micro-expressions. He stares at me a long, ugly moment; then his lips break into words as he speaks through a tight frown. “Cade wasn’t there.”What do you think happened to Cade? Who or what was the pounding that was under the ice? Have any cool theories about the story so far? Send any questions, comments or theories to almanac@dailycardinal.com.

10 road trip movies to watch during spring break

Spring break is great because you can do a lot of great things during spring break:

Dealing with nostalgic feelings throughout college

I’m not sure whether it was the few days of glorious spring weather we had last week, or the fact that it recently hit me that I am in fact halfway through my freshman year at UW-Madison, but lately the thoughts that have been dancing around in my mind as I daydream in class have been making me extremely nostalgic.

Wednesday word: Athlete's controversies must be covered as extensively as their community service

When Kyrie Irving joined the Road Trippin’ With RJ & Channing podcast last week, listeners were likely expecting the point guard to reflect on his season thus far, talk about the upcoming All-Star weekend in New Orleans or possibly just dabble in the X’s and O’s of basketball.

The history of Hallmark

A long time ago, there was a small mystical creature, named Cupid. He flew around the world with his fairy wings, and used his magic arrows to cause humans to fall in love. He was content with his simple and fulfilling life.One day, Cupid was feeling particularly energetic and determined, and his hard day’s work singlehandedly caused the population explosion in the Indian subcontinent. Feeling exhausted from the effort, he decided to stop in at the Mythical Creatures Pub on his way home for a relaxing beer.This pub was nothing special to look at, just a small brick building in a field in Northern Ireland, but it was frequented by all sorts of beings considered fictional by humans. The tooth fairy was a regular, leprechauns stopped by from time to time (though they were required to pay ahead of time, they were notorious binge drinkers), and even Santa made an occasional appearance, when the “old ball and chain” let him have some fun (his words).On that particular day Cupid found a spot between one of Snow White’s seven dwarves and a deeply inebriated centaur, and as they began to converse, the bar tab grew longer and longer. By the time the MC Pub was almost empty, the unlikely trio were trying their hand at deciphering the key to happiness. Not an easy task at the best of times, made even more difficult by the fact that they had drank their way through just about every drink on the menu (saving of course anything with the word “spritzer” in the name, they still had their dignity). As the barkeep started attempting to shuffle them out, they decided to give up and leave the thinking stuff to someone else.The next day, Cupid woke up with an earsplitting headache and a startling revelation. The key to happiness, he realized, was money! While attempting not to throw up, he pondered  how to make his new realization into a reality. Time was on his side; an immortal being learns to appreciate the luxury of patience. He continued to go about his daily routine for a few decades, all the while thinking of ways to become independently wealthy. Then one day, it hit him like an arrow to the knee (which was ironic, because the thought was so distracting that an arrow meant for a passerby on his way to a dance class accidentally hit a tree, which immediately became deeply infatuated with a nearby oak, and was destined to the misery of not being able to communicate his romantic feelings). Cupid immediately gave up on match-making for the day, and began to draw up plans to start a company that preyed upon the very emotion that he distributed among the people.A few weeks later, doors opened at a brand new company: Hallmark. They immediately began producing tacky cards, candles and other things no person ever needed. Upon the initial success, they began churning out even tackier and cheaper products. This continued for many years, and Cupid became very rich, and true to his prediction, very happy. Every time he got dangerously close to thinking about what really mattered in life, he bought a pile of chocolate and attempted to eat his way through it. No one has ever been unhappy while eating chocolate; his life was blissful.Time went on, and Cupid slowly became as fat as a pregnant panda bear, although not as cuddly. His initially successful company, however, began to become less and less lucrative. It seemed that people had completely filled their homes with tacky, emotionally pandering items, and could not buy more, and due to Cupid’s focus on eating rather than love-spreading, not enough new people were being made to support the company. It seemed that one good idea was not enough to continuously bolster Cupid financially, and that he would have to be ingenious again if he wanted to continue the lifestyle he had grown accustomed to.The very next day, while chasing away an existential crisis on one of his three speed boats, Cupid formed the plan that would ensure his wealth for the foreseeable future. Instead of forming a new company, or changing the existing one, he would change culture itself to benefit him the most. He decided that he would use Hallmark’s “terrible movie division” to start the idea of a new holiday, dedicated entirely to spending money under the pretext of romanticism. Instead of showing romantic affection through nice gestures, or—god forbid—spending time together, couples could now just spend money on useless junk for each other!It was the perfect plan. A suggestible, media-obsessed culture drank up the idea of being able to spend less time and effort on their significant others, as well as getting things bought for them. As years went on, the made-up holiday pervaded society completely, and after a number of years, no one even realized that is was simply invented to sell greeting cards and cheap stuffed animals.And so, Valentine’s Day was born… Legend has it, every Feb. 14, Cupid gets together with his mythical friends at the pub where it all began and buys everyone a round as they have a good laugh.

Planned Parenthood policies leave America behind other nations in reproduction rights

Life is a culmination of indescribable virtue and value regardless of gender, appearance, race or age. Because of its importance, our society often demands the essentiality of reproduction. However, as countries develop and the standard of living climbs, people are beginning to choose to have less children. According to The Economist, people are not reproducing enough to create a stable successive generation or to have a smooth population transition. The frustration toward the changing view of human reproduction often takes an ironic turn, and oppresses the people who are not at fault.

SUV found submerged in Lake Mendota, one body recovered

A Dane County woman’s body was the only one found in or near an SUV submerged in Lake Mendota near the Spring Harbor Park boat launch. Dane County Medical Examiner Director of Operations Barry Irmen identified the victim as Julie B. Metcalfe of Fitchburg Monday night. She was 51. 

Zebra mussels found in Lake Mendota

Lake Mendota had once been the home for swimming, sailing and fishing, among many other recreational and scenic activities. But since the discovery of zebra mussels in the lake by a limnology lab last fall, the lake’s environment has shifted, resulting in changed food sources for fish and less attractive experiences for water activities at the Memorial Union terrace on a summer day.

Unoccupied boat leads to search, no rescue

The Lake Rescue Team, affiliated with Madison Fire Department, was called out to Lake Monona to investigate an eerie situation during the midmorning hours Wednesday.

Wisconsin Rowing Team to Host 4,000 Boat Re-Enactment of Epic Ancient Naval Battle

The UW rowing team annonced they would re-enact The Battle of Salamis, an epic ancient naval battle.

Wisconsin fan intercepts Michigan State QB Tyler O’Connor from the stands

Late in the third quarter of Saturday’s Badgers triumph at Michigan State, one Badgers fan made a crucial play that would seal the Badgers commanding lead for good.