Terp Farm hosted its first public event at the Central Maryland Research Center in Upper Marlboro, Maryland Oct. 9, inviting university students and others to partake in food, entertainment and tours of the Terp Farm facility.
Terp Farm is a collaboration between three University of Maryland entities. The Department of Dining Services, the College of Agriculture and Natural Resources and the Office of Sustainability created Terp Farm in 2014 with the intention of producing locally grown vegetables for consumption on the UMD campus.
A lively event, Green Tidings food truck stood at the center of the festival and served both lamb sandwiches and ratatouille subs. Behind the van truck was a pumpkin painting activity table for younger guests, and the festival also featured live music from local D.C. band Numbering Sundays, who performed covers of popular folk songs by the dining tent.
When I say I am going to talk about campus culture, one might reasonably assume I am going to discuss campus sports or showcase an interesting club or event. But culture is not always that palatable. Sometimes culture, especially campus culture, is raw and unnerving. Sometimes culture is hastily scribbled nonsense on a bathroom stall. And that is the brand of culture I want to talk about today–the kind of culture one can only experience while sitting on a dirty public toilet. You know, the best kind of culture.
I found this scathing accusation against our school’s president in the men’s bathroom of the North Campus diner. For all you kids not hip on the lingo, “danku” refers to the highest quality of marijuana. One could easily write this off as libel or defamation, but this accusation has been corroborated by another party. Right below the accusation is written “Too right, mate.” That’s enough proof for me.
If you venture into the family bathroom in Mckeldin library, you’ll stumble upon a baby-changing station with “place sacrifice here” written on it. In the ancient city state of Carthage, it was common practice to sacrifice one’s infant to appease the gods. It’s good to know traditional religious values are still being practiced in this increasingly godless and immoral age. Continue reading Exploring campus culture one bathroom at a time→
I’m not a religious or faith driven person, and for the most part, I don’t mind those who are. Everyone is entitled to his or her own beliefs. I say this to emphasize that I am not a militant atheist; I have no desire to destroy other people’s faiths. This being said, I also have no qualms with challenging other people’s faiths.
The other day a friend of mine told me how she admired her roommate sacrificing “sweets” for Lent. I glibly retorted that it was incredibly convenient this roommate’s “sacrifice” for Lent could also double as a healthy diet—my logic being that it’s not really a sacrifice if what you’re giving up ultimately benefits you. My friend admonished me, saying that I should be more tolerant of other people’s faiths. Her admonition got me thinking about tolerance; more specifically, it made me question whether my critical comments on other people’s faiths could be considered intolerant.
I define myself by very simple terms. I am a human first, male second, and Barry Manilow fan third. These are the things that are at the core of who I am—basic things. All other affiliations—nationality, religious denomination, political party—are secondary to these primary traits. The primacy of my humanity and masculinity probably doesn’t require much explaining, but I imagine that third trait—“Barry Manilow fan”—raises a few eyebrows.
How could a person’s love for an over-the-hill pop star be at the center of who he is? To put it bluntly, I owe my existence to Barry Manilow. Now, I don’t mean that in the crude sense that my parents just happened to get busy while “Mandy” was playing in the background—though, let’s be honest, Barry does inspire animalistic lust. No, unfortunately, it’s a little darker than that.
I was a chubby kid in middle school. I mention this characteristic only because my peers loved to remind me that it was my defining characteristic. I was bullied, and as you might expect from the kind of kid who listens to pop stars who haven’t been relevant since the early 80’s, I didn’t really possess the social grace to properly handle this kind of treatment. I became depressed, and this eventually led me down a very dark path. I came very close to doing things I would have most certainly regretted. But I didn’t do these things. Why? Continue reading The Saving Grace of Music (or how Barry Manilow saved my life)→
If you would allow me, I’d like to tell a story. Not too long ago, I had a very good friend, a perfect friend really. She was pretty, smart, and funny. She was the kind of person you really hate to have as a friend because you’d much rather her be your girlfriend. Well, at some point in our relationship, I made the ill-fated decision to try and make that change—and I was turned down. No, “turned down” doesn’t do justice to how spectacularly this girl rejected me. I didn’t know one person was capable of making me feel so bad about myself. I would have applauded her skill—if I wasn’t so certain the world itself was coming down around me. Ah, young love. It hurts like hell, and thank God for that.