Violet R. Blu
Staffwriter
Communications, 2038 (master’s program)
Bio
I’m a hard-nosed student journalist. I spend my time cutting through the lies and lying on the Cut.
Fun Fact
I dislike poetry.
Previous Work
I Woke Up and My Butt Print was on the Fence
When I opened my eyes that fateful morning, I saw evidence of last night’s rager all over the room. It looked like your average CMU party. Beakers of titrated Hennessy littered the kitchen table. Kilts were strewn about on the ground, some with accompanying pairs of tartan underwear. Someone cuddled on the couch with a monitor depicting Tank’s sleeping face. I tried to parse my fuzzy memories, but I had no idea how I ended up there.
When I stood up, I felt a cool breeze hit the back of my legs. It struck me as strange, considering I wasn’t a kilt person. I looked down and realized I had no bottoms on. The memories came rushing back in an instant. I ran to the bathroom and looked at my butt in the mirror. Just as I had suspected, it was covered in bright red paint.
I scrubbed it off, stole a pair of pants from the host, and did the walk of shame back to my dorm. For most of my journey, I remained lost in thought, wondering when my drunken behavior would come back to haunt me like the vengeful ghosts in Hamerschlag Hall. I didn’t have to wonder for long. When I walked by the Fence, I noticed that it had a fresh coat of paint—complete with the shape of my posterior rendered in striking vermilion.
My face turned the same color. I buried my head in shame and ran into Doherty Hall, but I couldn’t escape it. People were already talking about the mysterious artist. They coined all sorts of names. “Backside Banksy”. “Leonardo da Vincheek”. “Pablo PicASSo”.
I was certain I’d be ruined once they found out it was me. My reputation would be compromised. My family would shun me. My job prospects would disappear. I felt better once I remembered I had no job prospects to lose, but anxiety still raced through me. I cowered in a bathroom stall.
After a while, I overheard two girls talking about the butt print. One of them complimented the beautiful, pear like silhouette while the other extolled the firm, yet elastic nature of the cheeks. One even inquired about the artist’s glute routine (which, if you’re curious, consists of walking up and down the Scott Hall stairs looking for Wild Blue). My entire day turned around. I left the bathroom stall determined to embrace my new life as an artist. I am proud to announce that my first exhibit, “Moon Over Pittsburgh”, will open at the Carnegie Museum this spring.
War flashbacks to now include midroll ads
There has never been war without trauma. Throughout history, countless soldiers have been kept awake by memories of senseless violence. Many combat veterans cannot hear fireworks or smell burning rubber without recalling the horrors of war. While many people see this as a tragedy, America’s leading advertising firms see it instead as potential for new business opportunities. Now, neuroscientists and marketers are finding ways to take advantage of the ad space created by these veterans’ grief stricken war memories.
Take Cody Daniels: He served two tours in Afghanistan and now suffers from post traumatic stress disorder. Several weeks ago, the sounds from his son’s Call of Duty game triggered a flashback of a friend getting injured in combat. “I have this memory a lot,” said Daniels, “so I usually know what to expect. This time was different, though. Right as my buddy was telling me he couldn’t feel his leg, the desert disappeared and I was standing in some lady’s kitchen. She was holding a detergent container.” After hearing a paid actress extol the cleaning power of Cascade Platinum Plus®, Daniels returned to the memory of his comrade’s brutal gunshot wound with no further interruption.
Human rights activists have criticized this marketing tactic, calling it “ghoulish” and “deeply inappropriate”. Its creator, ad executive Lance Gladwell, begs to disagree. According to Gladwell, “I don’t see the issue with it. It distracts them from the flashback, so it’s basically the cure to PTSD. I should be awarded a Nobel Prize.”
At the time of writing, brainwave ad technology has not yet been implemented on a larger scale, but it is developing quickly. Almost as quickly as Cascade Platinum Plus® washes away even the toughest stains!
October 29, 1929: "Block Tuesday" Leaves Freshmen Destitute
At Carnegie Mellon University, the end of the 1920s saw unprecedented financial ruin for many first-year students. The meal-block economy had crescendoed throughout the decade, with blocks selling for a whopping 50% of their original worth. Unfortunately, this lucrative exchange could not last forever. The block market imploded, wiping out the assets of many ambitious traders. Freshmen everywhere lost their investments, their savings, and their bananas of varying ripeness.
The crash created a dire economic situation on campus. Thousands showed up to the bread line every day, hoping Au Bon Pain had enough rustic baguettes to sustain them during this trying time. Unable to afford new clothing, students were seen converting their free O-week umbrellas into dress shirts. The Campus Store, embodying the generous spirit of Andrew Carnegie, offered crewnecks for the subsidized price of $250.
As a new school year begins and the meal-block economy returns in full force, ReadME hopes that the class of 2029+ will learn from history. Selling meal blocks for nominal amounts of money may seem like a shortcut to fabulous wealth, but this year’s freshmen should keep the Block Market’s pitfalls in mind. However, if they do fall on hard times, CFA lawn maintenance is always hiring.
Evolution of Hetero Sapiens
Up until the 1960s, the student body of Carnegie Mellon University consisted solely of gay men. Passionate academic rivalries and long nights in the lab together fostered a thriving homosexual population at CMU. De Fer ran out of iced coffee by 8:03 every morning, and the CMU Philharmonic played nothing but Lana Del Rey covers. When Margaret Morrison Carnegie College opened in 1969, its female students rarely interacted with men, choosing instead to recite Greek poetry while tasting each other’s lipstick. For decades after its founding, CMU saw little in the way of male-female contact. No one was ready for this status quo to be shattered.
In 1973, Carnegie Mellon University officially became coeducational. Mere months after this change, biologists began to observe a new type of human: the hetero sapien. Some students, they noticed, had found it advantageous to socialize with the opposite sex. Young women were getting hit by cars daily until they started making men walk on the dangerous part of the sidewalk. Young men started changing their sheets more often at the behest of their female companions, leading to a decrease in bacterial infections. Commingling between the two sexes caused the student body to improve on an evolutionary level–men held doors open for women while women saved space on benches with a foreign maneuver called “crossing their legs.”
The rise of the hetero sapiens also had an unexpected but useful byproduct: the creation of children. It turned out that men and women could unite to produce smaller, more impressionable humans instead. These children, as they have since been called, prove helpful to many facets of CMU life. The SDC struggled to find a Buggy driver of optimal size until the six-year-old was invented. Soon after, ReadME adopted its official motto: “No pair of hands is too small to stuff a centerfold.” To thank the hetero sapiens for their contributions to Carnegie Mellon, ReadME will be throwing them an honorary parade in June.
New Study Finds Vaccines Cause CMU Students
Many parents have expressed concerns about the possible long-term complications of vaccinating their children. However, leading scientists recently discovered a positive relationship between childhood immunization and readiness for Carnegie Mellon University.
SCS freshman Lily Anderson received the measles-mumps rubella vaccine at age three. By age four, her parents had already begun to notice the markings of a gifted child. According to Anderson’s mother, Sheila, “Lily would sit there for hours solving algebraic equations. If a kid asked to play with her, she’d cover her ears and drown out the sound of their voice until they walked away. I think the vaccine made her more committed to academics.”
As Anderson got older, her dedication to learning didn’t wane at all, nor did her ability to resist distractions. Anderson’s father Greg described her unwillingness to party, stating, “Lily never went to those big ragers in high school. She preferred to spend her time in the quiet, dimly lit cocoon of her own bedroom. That level of focus is what Carnegie Mellon looks for.”
When contacted by ReadME, Anderson herself declined to offer comment, stating that she was too busy reading the Wikipedia page for 19th-century textile mills.
