Thursday, November 11, 2010

One Hall-of-a-Ween

The Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum is a quaint, abandoned sanatorium nestled in the quiet town of Weston, West Virginia. Among its many esteemed former guests are Marilyn Manson and yours truly! That's right, for Halloween weekend I ventured with three fellow Asburians to meet some ghosts at the mother of all loony bins.

We arrived in the afternoon to the sight of the gargantuan fortress towering over a dead courtyard. The structure, which conveniently rests upon exactly 666 acres of land, seemed at first very intimidating. Its menacing Gothic architecture complemented the decaying foliage, piercing wind and overcast sky. Who knew what secrets this labyrinth held, how many poor souls took their last breath in this tomb. And then I saw the parade of kids dressed up as aliens, princesses and their favorite Jersey Shore characters, and it made it kind of hard to take seriously—there was also a Philly cheesesteak stand set up right in front of the entrance. What happened to the good old days when ghosts haunted the crap out of people who made light of their death?

Disappointingly, after perusing the lobby of the main building for a few minutes, I hadn't seen a single spirit, phantasm or creepy blood-covered child. Maybe the gift shop stocked some sort of ghost repellent (I may have seen a can of "Ghoul-Be-Gone" on the counter). After performing our first round of ghost busting, we made our way back to the hotel to prepare for the "Witch's Ball" (which is entirely unlike the Philosopher's Stone) and "Ward 24," a haunted house which takes place within the storied walls of the asylum's most notorious site.

Because I had not planned on dressing up and since I am very unoriginal, I went as the most generic Thriller zombie imaginable. Whatever—better than going as Broke College Student. As darkness fell upon the land, the most horrifying part of the night had come at last: waiting in line for tickets alongside all of the overweight women who had dressed up as French maids and "hot" nurses. After signing a waiver stating that we cannot legally sue if we were to become physically ill due to the event (nausea, headache, death, etc.), we took our places at the front door while we received further instructions. No touching the 'patients,' no going off the path and something about cameras that I was too busy filming to hear. Thankfully, screaming like a newly spanked five-year-old was not discouraged.

The building was dark. And nasty. And inhabited with creepy kids covered in blood (I finally got my wish!). It began as a series of somewhat predictable jump-scares (after which they would hiss in your face and mutter stuff about green jelly beans or "the voices"), but it quickly evolved into the manifestation of every nightmare I've ever had. We hesitantly entered one foggy corridor in which a dripping, dilapidated body hung from the ceiling. Because the thought of someone being murdered fifteen feet away just wasn't eerie enough for these jerks, a grotesque and slender creature rose out of the mist wielding a freshly-used axe. Standing with its head mere inches from the ceiling, he strode proudly across the moist floor towards us as if to say, "Do you guys like what I did with this one? I quite enjoy the contrast between the tearing cuts on his right leg and the clean lacerations on the left. What do you guys think? And remember, this is for posterity, so be honest." This was the first time I wet myself.


The second, third and fourth times came in a pitch black hallway literally crawling with monstrosities and lit solely by the red silhouette of the far door and pulsating lights. Flickering on and off, the strobes were our only beacon of hope. We would inch our way closer and closer to the door, the lights would go off and we would wait. Lights on. "That kid was not there earlier!" Lights off. "Just gotta wait for them to come back on ... still off ... still off!" Luminescence never returned, and panic set in as I came to the realization that no longer would I see the light of day. The darkness suffocated my eyes, and madness overcame my soul. I was never heard from again.


And now they say on the night of a full moon, if you hold your ear to a newspaper and listen closely, you can hear the clitter-clatter of dirty fingernails on a keyboard.

Check out footage from my trip here.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Writer's Block Party: With dorms wide open

ZACK: What gets the campus in a buzz almost as much as a new engagement or a weird chapel speaker? Open dorms. Guys and girls hanging out in each others’ rooms, watching movies, playing various board games, not dancing to music—sounds like a party, all right. A party that happens every other blue moon. A party that will surely be scheduled at the same time as that thing you love. Who doesn't plan their weekends around the chance to potentially talk to a member of the opposite sex? Well, everyone else in the world, because it’s something that should be an everyday occurrence.

COURTNEY: Let's face it, there are some serious problems with open dorm. And not just the "eww, these guys smell bad" kind of problems, either.

Z: There are so many problems, in fact, we needed two writers to cover them all! That's right, ladies and gentlemen, Courtney LeMay, who normally writes for those other boring sections, has chosen to join me for the first ever Writer's Block Party!

C: Wait, I had a choice?

Z: No! That's what makes it so great. Now, back to open dorms. If there was one word you could use to describe your typical open dorm, what would it be? Mine would be "uncomfortable" or "I'd-rather-be-doing-something-else-but-I-feel-obligated-to-be-here-ing."

C: "Awkward." And I'm not the only one who feels that way. Brandon Reinhardt, RA of Trustees 2nd East, used the word when summarizing his feelings of the current nature of open dorms (except he added, "And I just leave whenever I can." Ouch).

Z: I equate open dorms to visiting your kids, but only under your ex-wife's supervision. It's like, "look, honey, I just want to take the kids to the circus one day, alright? I want to see my daughter's sweet smile and hear my son's laugh this month. Please." That's how depressing open dorms are.

C: Open dorms have the potential to be fun, don't get me wrong--I love being invited to Johnson to play Rock Band as much as the next girl; it's common knowledge that the room acoustics are better on that side of campus. But, the fact is, open dorms are so infrequent that half of the time there is spent in finding the rooms you were supposed to hang out in an hour ago (3/4s of the time and even longer for the labyrinth commonly referred to as Kresge, if you count the extra time necessary to escape from the minotaur). That's only for finding one room, and staying in just one room for the entire open dorm is one of the quickest ways to make enemies with pretty much the rest of campus. "Why didn't you come see me while you were visiting her? Is my room not good enough? I thought we were friends!"

Z: The problems are only exacerbated by the fact that more introverted students tend to be reduced to quivering, jelly-boned wimps when just thinking about talking to a... a... a girl! But can you really blame them? Men and women are treated like two disagreeable beta fish who need to be eternally separated lest they kill each other (or worse). This fosters unhealthy and inorganic growth in relationships with the opposite sex. Perhaps this is the cause of the "Ring by Spring" phenomenon--the distorted view we have of how relationships should work leads us to believe we've fallen in love with someone because we enjoyed playing Yahtzee or charades together, so we should get married! Now! And then things don't work out because they realize they don't really have all that much in common and get divorced, which leads to the aforementioned divorce scenario. Don't you see what you're doing, Asbury? You're tearing families apart and preventing little Johnny and Samantha from going to the circus with their loving father!

C: Little Johnny Simmons, when interviewed about the problems with open dorms, said, "I don't know what that is, but I just want to see my daddy again." Samantha was not available for comment.

Z: And the only thing that's more of a travesty than these children growing up in a broken home? The scheduling of open dorms. On literally every occasion, open dorms have conflicted with campus-wide events. All three of Glide-Crawford's open dorms - yes, three, before either men's dorm gets two - have been on weeknights (I don't feel it needs to be explained why this was a mistake) and Trustees' open dorm coincided with an artist series. Kresge's first occurred at the same time as the significantly more fun TAG Masquerade, and "Candyland" took place on a Tuesday, a night reserved exclusively for Glee and finishing up my articles.

C: And Johnson's Shocktoberfest '010 doesn't even count as an open dorm because, well, the rooms weren't open. But don't think we're only complaining, here; we feel we have a solution! Originally, we intended to propose a system which would have an open dorm every weekday, which would alternate (e.g., Kresge gets open dorm Monday, and then Tuesday the following week) so that no dorm had a fixed day of the week, and then on Friday have all dorms open, or something to that effect.

Z: But that sounds a little complicated, doesn't it? And it doesn't really solve the whole problem of having to schedule where you're going to go on what night (what if it's Kresge's night but you want to hang out with some of those fine GC babes?). It increases the quantity of open dorms, but not necessarily the quality.

C: That's why Reinhardt's simple proposal (and I don't mean the "hide the ring in her chocolate cake" kind) of open hours is the obvious answer. Every weekday from 7 to10 all dorms are open. Is that really so unreasonable? It eliminates virtually every possible complaint concerning open dorms, and seemingly the only downside is for the resident assistants. When asked about the potential extra work, Reinhardt admitted, "If I were solely looking at my personal wants, I would say 'I'd rather not,' but I feel that part of being an RA is laying down my wants for the good of the community." Whoa, somebody sacrificing their time for others? Egads! "An RA has to be on duty anyways," he continued, "and it wouldn't be much different than right now." Except, you know, people would actually be satisfied with open dorms.

Z: Perhaps the only other disadvantage is that of students' privacy, or if you're one of those people who clean exclusively for open dorms (and your room is in constant state of petrifying filth otherwise). But it's not like someone is going to be in your room every single night anyway; there may be heavy traffic for the first week or two, but how many are coming daily once this becomes standard procedure? Fifteen? Besides, that's why our doors have locks on them; keeping people out when you need to study (or because your room looks like Ke$ha spent the night) is as easy as the push of a button, literally.

C: And it seems just as easy to improve open dorms. Aldersgate has had open hours for years with no major problems; why couldn't this apply to the other dorms as well?

Z: But regardless of how silly or impractical you may feel our ideas sound, I think we can all agree that something needs to change. Please, think of the children!