Over the last five days, I've been at the forefront of a "Harambe" renaissance in The Daily Tar Heel office. My work computer's background is a "Wheel of Fortune" board that partially spells out a Harambe meme. I petitioned to have the front-page quote on Tuesday be Nicki Minaj's freestyle name-checking everyone's favorite slain gorilla.
In a culture of college and social media and whimsicality, we don't always talk about the tough stuff. Including what can happen when that culture goes a little too far.
I'm gonna be real here: I am a tasteless, unapologetic hater of all things artistic.
Aside from my friends, co-workers, professors who've convinced me not to drop out and move to New Orleans, etc., the most influential people in my life at Carolina have by far been the baristas. I had a torrid love affair with them in the newsletter last year, and I have plans with some of my faves (hey, Vivian) to be in my graduation photos come May.
I am one to do a lot of complaining. One might say it is my greatest skill. Were complaining a degree, I would already have my Ph.D; were it a country, I would be president; were it an Olympic sport, I would be the Simone Biles.
