Opinion Imagine it: A world where you can pay someone a sum of money to quietly kill off your child, no questions asked. You won’t be arrested, or even looked down upon. In fact, you may even be championed as someone “taking control of life again.” No, this is not the premise for a freaky

A dirty bar bathroom in Ybor, beer-soaked streets the morning after First Friday in St. Petersburg, cheap, greasy hot dog stands on every corner downtown, the smell of red tide coming from Spa Beach – these things have nothing on New Orleans. A recent journalism conference hosted by the Associated Collegiate Press brought five staff

Opinion I suppose it was easiest as a baby. All I did was eat, sleep and cry, and people ate that stuff up. Soon, I learned to walk and talk, and then I was expected to behave. The most fun was during elementary school. School days were fun, the work was simple, I enjoyed learning

Editorial USF St. Petersburg’s Harborside Activities Board, a student-run department of Student Affairs, is bringing a big-name musician to campus for a free show. “Free!?” you say. “How could that be?” Well, while attending the show is “completely free,” HAB needs $50,000 of what you already paid in activity and service fees with your tuition

Opinion Educational sex scenes: perhaps the greatest oxymoron in all of academia. It really doesn’t matter what class taken: art, literature, humanities. Before most students graduate from USF St. Petersburg, they will have seen at least one movie scene with sex, nudity or eroticism in class. I personally have seen one every semester since I

Opinion It’s my new goal in life to get the phrase “curiosity killed the cat” changed to “curiosity burned my eyes.” A couple weeks ago, a guest speaker attended one of my classes. The speaker talked to the class about a published article that resulted in tragedy. It all started with the desire to find

Opinion Sitting next to my sister in her seafoam green room, my eyes were wide on the device before me. It was spinning a disk the size of a dinner plate in a mesmerizing circle, and somehow, it was making music. What my sister and I had discovered that day was my mother’s old record

Editorial This weekend, five members of the Crow’s Nest staff attended a college media convention in New Orleans with thousands of our fellow student-run publication leaders. The ghost tour of the French Quarter was sort of scary. The Bourbon Street drunks were even scarier. But the horror stories we heard from other publications, within the