Depressed Architecture Student Eats Macaroni Sculpture

MILSTEIN HALL–Armed with a hot glue gun and 218 boxes of uncooked pasta, fifth year AAP student Julia Pisano undertook the challenge of a lifetime: the construction of McGraroni Tower–a 1:20 scale model of Cornel’s most notable landmark. Upon its completion, instead of stepping back and admiring her marvel of modern architecture, Pisano broke into a fit of hysterics and took a bite out of the roof. 

Originally a thought experiment for ARCH 5120: Alternative Building Materials, Pisano’s personal project quickly took on a life of its own. After three weeks of intensive study, careful planning, and painstaking pasta management, McGraroni Tower stood at a massive eight feet eight inches tall and was composed of nearly fifteen pounds of pasta. It took Pisano only two hours to completely consume. 

“I didn’t know if what I was watching was art or just really sad,” explained Mark Atkins ‘25. “It was gut-wrenching. Like literally, the thought of eating all that pasta made me want to vomit.” Atkins went on to explain that, luckily for Pisano, her tears seemed to soften the noodles as she ate them. 

Unsure of how Pisano was able to produce a structurally sound piece of architecture using only pasta, Dean of AAP Bill Derman called in a team of forensic experts in an attempt to reconstruct Pisano’s process, stating, “Edible housing could completely reshape the industry. Think tortellini towers, fettuccine flooring, spaghetti spires.” The results of the investigation were largely inconclusive, as the only evidence recovered were lasagna noodles carved with pleas for help. 

Unfortunately, the motivation behind this macaroni massacre may never be known as Pisano promptly fell into a food coma following her feast. 

Architecture Students to See Sunlight for the First Time in 3 Years Amid Dragon Day Comeback

MILSTEIN HALL—Armed with SPF 3000, aviator sunglasses, and obnoxiously large hats, hordes of brave architecture students took to the streets with the product of 6 weeks of even less human contact than had they been under quarantine.

“It burns!!” Daniel Thomas ‘23 cried as he ran to take shelter from the sun’s unforgiving rays under the head of the dragon. However, Thomas was not alone in his fear and visceral response to the sunlight. Many of the vitamin-D deficient students felt “unprepared” to expose themselves to the overbearing level 4 UV.

Due to a two-year hiatus from the event because of the pandemic, only the senior class can claim to have ever seen an architect; many underclassmen thought the possibility of seeing an architecture student was too good to be true. 

“I honestly wasn’t sure if architecture majors really existed,” commented Anna Russo ‘24 as the procession made its way down East Avenue. But lo and behold, on the eve of spring break, pale creatures did indeed emerge from the depths of the Green Dragon. This morning was “extremely disillusioning” to Russo, who had never met someone from the AAP school. 

After the festivities ended, the AAP students made their retreat back to the safety of their studio, remarking that their first and last time seeing sunlight this year was both incredible and overwhelming.

Archie Shaves Head to Cope with Tournament Loss

RAND HALL—After her third all-nighter this week and upon learning that her major lost to Chemical Engineering in the Major Cornell Major Tournament, Sharon Yang, Architecture ‘20, let out a primal scream, impulsively grabbed the nearest pair of scissors, and cut off her right braid.

“Dragon dragon dragon! Oy oy OY!” Yang shouted to no one in particular, grinning maniacally while swinging her detached plait around like a lasso. The crazed Rand Hall resident proceeded to smear green paint over her bare stomach and run into the nearest lecture hall, glassy-eyed and fully unaware of the shocked students around her.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into her,” said concerned onlooker Christopher Morris ‘17. “I heard her talking about unleashing a dragon or something today and wishing she could light it on fire, she seems to be having difficulty coping with reality.”

“She should stop overreacting,” said ChemE Amit Baker ‘18. “It was just a dumb game among students with nothing better to do.”

Sources confirmed that Yang plans on also chanting around a mythical bird in the middle of the Arts Quad, causing major commotion, and then falling into a deep slumber for the rest of the semester.