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Wednesday, May 08, 2024

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Study finds correlation between IQ, Snapchat use and rate of injuries

By Patrick Hoeppner | Apr. 6, 2017

A study released by UW-Madison’s Psychology Research Division has outlined a network of patterns linking the popular social media application Snapchat to a nationwide surge of unexplained injuries, most of which involve either hyperextension of the arms or traumatic impacts with bystanders, furniture and inanimate objects in the street. According to experts, the application promotes the extension of outstretched arms into high-traffic areas such as hallways, elevators, escalators and particle accelerators.

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Nowhere

By Alexandra Pleasant | Apr. 3, 2017

This is the second installment in our ongoing mystery series. In the first installment of Nowhere, three friends, Hannah, Cade, and Levi walk across a frozen lake Mendota in the middle of the night.

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By creating new bubbling drinking machine, smartass Wisconsinite proves point

By Noah Mack | Mar. 30, 2017

Mathew Leedom, an engineer at the Wisconsin General Electric factory, developed a fully-functional bubbling drinking fountain Monday night, giving validity to the well-known “bubbler,” a slang term used to describe the hydrating machine. A 15-year veteran with GE, Leedom decided to develop the blueprint for the machine after a debate with an out-of-state coworker about the proper name for the device.

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An elegy

By Eliza Weisberg | Mar. 27, 2017

when i kissed a boy with your same name: 1. cigarettes hung on my clothes and the scent of lilacs lingered in my pores 2. deception on my lips but I can still remember the blood on your hands 3. your fingernails raked across the surface of my brain and my mind screamed a chorus of no’s 4. we warmed each other with our bodies but your name still feels like ice on my tongue

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Day 74

By Mariam Coker | Mar. 27, 2017

Do not worry about the girl who left and walked forever, she is taking space for herself. The world is round, she’ll be back.

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LIFE & STYLE

Let's TALK About Sex!

By Sydney Thomas | Mar. 27, 2017

*Before I start this article, I want to begin with a consent caveat. Everything discussed in this article is clearly pointing to all sexual activities between consenting partners.

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Nowhere

By Alexandra Pleasant | Mar. 13, 2017

This the first installment of a new mysterious story that will be released in multiple parts over the remainder of the semester.

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Silverback gorillas escape from primate lab, wreak havoc on Mifflin Street

By Patrick Hoeppner | Mar. 2, 2017

Mifflin Street has been closed to the public and largely sealed off from reporters and press after a group of juvenile silverback gorillas escaped containment at the controversial Harlow Center for Biological Psychology—more commonly known as the Primate Lab—and utterly trashed the rental properties on Mifflin Street a full two months before tradition dictated they be trashed during the Mifflin Street Block Party. “We were not aware of the presence of these gorillas on our campus,” an assistant dean of the Psychology Department said.

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Broken Villanelle

By Eliza Weisberg | Feb. 27, 2017

There’s no place like home And I can’t click my heels together anymore so I’ll lock the door on my way out  Watching the sky turn color still makes me melt  The smell of your hair reminds me of coffee in the morning Theres no place like home The windows of your mind have bars now And you don’t let the wind blow through the house I’ll lock the door on my way out I remember when your eyes still reflected in mine But you le(f)t the sun set too early Theres no place like home “Leaving your light on is like throwing money down the drain.” - I watched you tear the spark from the wall  I’ll lock the door on my way out  The house is cold now And the lightbulbs are shattered There’s no place like home I promise I’ll lock the door on my way out

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Silk House (Do Ho Suh)

By Caroline Stevens | Feb. 27, 2017

you tore through me, silk house with meticulously sewed outlets in my walls promptly ripped out, delivering no electric shock. i was a glitchy home, you seemed to think, yet you made the effort to stitch your name into hard-to-reach spaces until the translucent baseboards were cluttered with it, over and over. the fireplace doesn’t work, it only suggests a space that should be for fire. you’ll live in better places (i was transitional), but still, there was the time you sat in wonder on the stained living room couch, my gauzy windows letting through a handful of rainbow, and watched its ghost pass over the walls.

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THE BEET

Blue

By Dan Winogradoff | Feb. 27, 2017

It was a carousel, singular and safe. Catching balls and blind, It’s middle-ground: This grass is a highway billboard, prying its corporate teeth into the branded of maggots. It’s a gross pasture of slabs and breast-fed bed bugs milking from the craven nipples of those who sleep with metal eyes and slaved toes. I’d rather reign inside, under mahogany crowns, and crying fires, like a half-formed memory, because only I understand I. This grass can’t understand the known. This grass I trudge on is blue, Lightnin’ and Waters.

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