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.

‘What Did I Miss?’ Asks Architecture Major Leaving Studio for First Time in 18 Weeks

MILSTEIN HALL—Area architecture major Juliet Brimwire ‘21 has enthusiastically emerged from her annual 18-week-long spring studio stint, eager to reconnect with the world beyond her drafting table. 

“Every March, once I get into the thick of the semester, I’ll commit to turning off all of my electronics and not leaving Milstein Hall until I conclude all of my Spring semester work, which usually takes until early July,” said the fourth-year student.

While this is a common academic strategy among architecture majors, Brimwire did notice that this year felt a little different. 

“Yeah, the Milstein crowd did seem to thin out a bit this year, but I figured that just meant I was better at buildings than everyone else. Honestly, they missed out; it was easy to stay focused this semester: my lazy professors stopped showing up to lectures, Slope Day was really quiet, and none of my senior friends bugged me to hang out with them before graduation. It was every Archie’s dream.”

As Brimwire prepares to leave campus for the first time since August, she expressed excitement ahead of a summer of travel, entertainment, philanthropy, and hopefully, some family time.

“I live in Manhattan, but I’m heading to Miami Beach—both for the awesome club scene and to volunteer at a kissing booth that raises money for the police department,” explained Brimwire. 

“My mom’s the executive producer of the TV show ‘Cops,’ my dad’s a Vice President at this German payments company called Wirecard, and my sister’s a dancer on Broadway, so we’re essentially never all home together. It’s quirky, but each summer we try to find the time to rent a car from Hertz and drive out to New Rochelle to go to Chuck E. Cheese, shop at JCPenney, and catch a minor league baseball game.”

At press time, Brimwire was spotted sprinting back into Milstein after opening the New York Times app for the first time in 5 months. 

 

New Blue Lights on Campus Actually Two Week Art Installation

Michael Wenye Li / Cornell Daily Sun

CENTRAL CAMPUS—The new Blue Light call boxes recently installed on campus are an architecture professor’s temporary art exhibit and will not connect users to the police, the University clarified Wednesday.

“I’ve decided to do my part to make Cornell more secure by creating an installation that forces viewers to ponder the true meaning of campus safety,” said Professor Tom Portman of his installation, which received funding from both the architecture department and the CUPD. “I believe this piece speaks to the core of humanity by evoking extreme emotions such as fear and panic, especially when someone’s calls don’t go through.”

“I don’t see the problem with these new Blue Lights. I always thought they were real pretty,” said CUPD officer Christian Markey. “Being honest, I didn’t even know they were for safety until you told me.”

Responding to complaints that the installation may be confusing, Police Chief Kathy Zoner said that students in danger should just suck it up and use their new app.

AAP to Replace Broken Window with Fine Arts Library

RAND HALL—After two years of covering the broken window in Rand Hall with a tarp, Cornell AAP recently announced their plan to patch the hole with a fine arts library.

“We thought the best solution to the constant airflow seeping through the building’s tarp would be to build a cutting edge fine arts library,” said executive architect Sara Rosenstein of the gaping hole created in the side of Rand Hall two years ago from a car crash. “Nothing solves insulation issues like dozens of stacks of paper.”

The Mui Ho Fine Arts Library (FAL), while not being transparent or even remotely being able to be seen through, will nevertheless provide AAP students with protection from the elements in cold Ithaca winters.

“If only I had known that they were not going to actually replace the window with a window, I probably would have driven more carefully,” said the driver who crashed off East Avenue. “I really miss that window.”

Sources confirmed that the lack of transparency will additionally serve to aid those attempting to complete the first item on the Cornell 161 List.

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.