Those punks

During college, when other people were “hooking up” and “having fun,” I was editing my college newspaper. I like to tell myself this was a personal choice.

Anyway, I just saw last week that my alma mater’s newspaper, the UW-Superior “Promethean” has changed its name to “The Stinger” this year. The Promethean drew its name from the Greek god Prometheus, who sacrificed his immortality and freedom to bring the knowledge of fire to the people. It was deeply significant to a paper that claimed to represent regular students. The Stinger is either a reference to the tabloid style they’ve embraced or the swaggering allegiance to athletics that good olUWS has embraced recently.

Though the paper was not perfect during my tenure as editor in chief, I was disappointed to see that it had sunk to the most amateurish level of college journalism (a genre that presupposes a great deal of amateurishness). In the first edition of the year, the editor wrote a note saying that the edition was late because his writers couldn’t hit a deadline. What a joke. Anyone who doesn’t take personal responsibility for the end product shouldn’t even be allowed to deliver a newspaper much less edit one.

Here’s hoping The Stinger falls to a group of more talented students in the future, as had happened in the past with the Promethean. I am writing this here, but I won’t write in to the paper because that’s the “desperate nerd” line of demarcation that I am unwilling to cross. I will mention it next time the University asks me for money, though. Then these punks will learn how newspapers really run … do what you want, so long as the bosses keep making money.


  1. The Stinger? The type of person who likes that name is the same type who travels all the way to Paris and then eats at the Hard Rock Cafe.

    I had three staff writers left when I took over, and only Kate could hit deadlines. I seem to remember banging on people’s doors at midnight, shouting for their stories. I think I wrote 11 articles myself (including editorials and fluff entertainment pieces) that first issue. This new editor has no excuses except a lack of effort.

    But hey, Julius, Stewart, and the rest of the Fine Arts Dept must be happy. They finally achieved their goal of killing any memory of print journalism at the school.

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