Political journalism requires new practices, brings new challenges
By Mary Whitfill Features Editor With presidential primaries right around the corner, this newly registered voter has shamelessly been doing nothing in her spare time but obsessively following the newest possible leaders of the free world. As a whole-hearted political junkie, I take pleasure in researching stances on controversial issues, voting records and, of course, finding out if the National Inquirer has anything interesting to say about the next possible president. I want to be a political journalist. I want to be loved (hated) by the people who mold our country. Yes, I want to provide for myself by practicing in a dying profession on the topic of generally scummy people. But as I haunt…
Generation Y doesn’t ask “why?”
By Mary Whitfill Features Editor I am an old soul. I write letters on stationary, I only understand the most basic of technological functions, I use only a pen and paper to conduct interviews and I own more close-and-play record players than I care to admit. It is indisputable that I was supposed to be born in 1950, enjoying the presidency of John F. Kennedy and the music of John Lennon in the 60s, following Stevie Ray Vaughn around the country in the 70s, refusing to grow up in the 80s and crying when Bill Clinton was elected in the 90s. As I let myself fall into this fascination with past generations, I have realized…
Experiencing a new kind of senioritis
By Mary Whitfill Features Editor This year at CHS has brought several changes, notably new administrators, adjustments to dress code, and the usual wave of incoming freshman. I am beginning to not recognize the place that has been my home away from home for the last four years. The flowers outside the library seem less colorful, the freshmen seem more clueless and the workload seems less and less (and less) important to me than in previous years. But as I sit down and think about it, I realize that maybe this feeling doesn’t come from the new vending machines or the old carpet; maybe this feeling is something that has developed within me. Everyone constantly…
Patriotism and decency: where is the line drawn?
Rebecca Neumann Entertainment Editor While there seemed to be a sense of national jubilation on the night of May 1, when it was announced to the world that Navy SEALS killed the infamous leader of al-Qaeda, there was some confusion about how to act. This is because Americans are more used to grieving for their country than celebrating its victory, and the line between patriotism and human decency is not clearly defined for that special circumstance when an enemy of the state is brought to justice. They do not want to celebrate death in the streets because it is bitterly reminiscent of the crowds in several Arab countries that celebrated the deaths of more than…
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Trying to conquer the Internet addiction
Maddie Walters Staff Writer It is well known fact that kids of our generation will forever be remembered by our adaptation and embracement of the advancements in technology which have taken place over the course of our short lives. From the Internet to the cell phone to the iPod, technology has shaped the way we think about things. And while these advancements have not only created new ways to communicate, such as texting and blogging, they have taken away from the past times that we used to enjoy before inventions such as Facebook. For me, the distractions of the Internet have hindered my life in ways they were never intended to. Whenever I do homework…
The thing about love…
Ashleigh Heaton Entertainment Editor I have read and seen Romeo and Juliet hundreds of times, and yet I still cry when Juliet wakes up to see Romeo, dead. I have seen the old ‘60s movie version of the play, Baz Lahrum’s ‘90s modern movie remake, watched it live at Shakespeare in the Park and read the piece too many times than I intend to confess to. I still devour Shakespeare’s words, whispering Juliet’s lines under my breath as the story unfolds – hoping, all the way through, that by some miracle the ending would magically change, the words altered to leave nothing but the happiest of endings. But despite each of the many times I…



