Om nom nom nom (Happy Thanksgiving)

GlaretronWhen I started putting out fliers for the RegRemix contest, I decided to stop posting graffiti photos for a while, out of a fear that it would cause more people to start writing on walls. A week later, it seems– if anything– to have had the opposite effect. A number of previously very active (and at times vitriolic) threads have been silent. On the other hand, there’s been a few additions that I’m guessing are not the direct result of the publicity around Reg graffiti. I’m inclined to post them, with the understanding that all future graffiti will be posted at my discretion and you shouldn’t write on walls as a way to seek fame and glory.


This week, Glaretron advises that you not sit at his study desk in the stacks.

Om nom nom nomThe “Andrew loves Allen” graffiti has taken a lot of abuse. It was written at multiple study desks, and another location has now been scratched out entirely after receiving a few additions (fags; that is hateful; your mother is hateful). This one hasn’t had it quite as bad in terms of derogatory comments, but it was nice to see what had been written there turned around in its tone.

Speaking of tone, seeing a semi-philosophical, slightly cranky thread invaded by absurd memes almost always puts a smile on my face.

Ms. Pac-Man + om nom nom nom + “one little voice” = Happy Thanksgiving from Crescat Graffiti.

The nerdiest place on earth: B-level men’s room

 the nerdiest place on earthI have never seen a place with so much nerdiness-per-square-inch (NSI) as the men’s bathroom* on the B-level of the Regenstein Library**. In addition to the usual penis (and vagina) drawings, a few political thoughts, and a sad piece of Chinese graffiti*** that translates to “the place elder brother went was not the toilet, it was loneliness”, there’s 26 bits of wordplay based on philosophers’ names. It truly is a magnificent and unparalleled piece of art, and I’ve transcribed the entire exchange below, using the canonical numbers written in the stall. You can find the full set of photos here.

  1. You, Kant, always get what you want
  2. But if Hume try sometime you get what you need
  3. I can Berkeley follow these exchanges
  4. You people need to be Locked up
  5. B-level bathroom, 7, 8, 10, 12Stop – you’re making my head spinoza
  6. Yes, we should collectively agree to stop leaving these Marx on the stalls.
  7. I Derrida you dorks to keep this up. I’m under no Deleuzeions about how stupid this is.
  8. There are many Engels from which to view this (refers to #5)
  9. True! They could be in it for the (Walter) Benjamins
  10. What makes you Saussure of that?
  11. Well, it’s clear they’ve dug out a little Nietzsche for themselves
  12. Suck my Dickins
  13. You mother-Foucaults!
  14. Gentlemen, I have a confession: I once tried to Heideggerl [read: 'hide a girl'] in this stall. But she escaped and went on to a great career as a Barthes-ender
  15. B-level bathroom, 9-17(ish)You guys Arendt kidding
  16. I’m a-Freud
  17. You’re so Jung and immature
  18. Husserliously need to relax, maybe w/ a nice cup of Merleau (Ponty)
  19. We surrender! We give up! Auerbachs are against the wall! Mercy!
  20. Let’s stop Adornoing these walls with marks.
  21. Seriously guys. Euripedes lines in front of a girl at a party and she will not be impressed
  22. Also, why didn’t šišek for other options with CAPS[****]?
  23. I hope Descartes them all off to the madhouse.
  24. CAPS Strausses me out
  25. I Gauss you should reFermat your resume.
  26. I’m Thoreauly fed up with it all.

Bonus- some speculation on the state of graffiti in the women’s room (complete with anatomical misunderstanding):

  • Perhaps one of you can tell me, are there these sorts of scribbles in the women’s bathrooms here? I would think so, but I haven’t heard anything.
  • Of course NOT. Everyone knows women are too boring and risk-averse to draw in stalls.
  • Plus they need 2 hands to pee.

* My unisex name, unfortunately, isn’t usually enough to grant me free admission to men’s bathrooms. I went before the library opened, and hoped that no one would come in. I brought a few “Crescat Graffiti” cards to help me plead my case for being a photographer of graffiti rather than being there for any sort of titillating purpose.

** Thanks to Joey Brown for sending me the tip about the B-level men’s room.

*** Thanks to Matthew Felix Sun for the Chinese translation help!

**** CAPS: UofC’s Career Advising and Planning Services

Alexa, master of A-level graphs, clears some things up

Towards the beginning of winter quarter 2008, Alexa and her friends had a pretty prominent place in the photos I was taking on the A-level. Alexa made some pretty great charts, two of which found their way into the book (second photo on pages 42 and 103, respectively.)

When Alexa’s current roommate, Loranne, showed her the book she recognized the graffiti she’d written and wanted to set the record straight.

Inability to get laid

Mike was no funThe graph from page 42 was written in response to some obnoxious guys who were in the adjacent cubicle, loudly discussing their inability to get laid. As such, Alexa’s note was to them, rather than to herself.

On a more heartwarming note, the graph from page 103 has a happy ending. While Mike caused a precipitous decline in how fun the Reg was in January 2008, today Mike and Alexa are dating.

You can find a few more fun whiteboard graphs from Alexa that I couldn’t fit into the book here.

New graffiti on hiatus

Cheap attempts at vandalismWith the advent of the RegRemix contest (and, in the process, totally blowing the covertness of my graffiti photography), I won’t be posting new photos of graffitiwill be posting new photos at my discretion for a while. I don’t want to encourage the vandals. So please don’t write on the walls– go remix all the old graffiti if you’re bored. Please.

Back from whence they came

 From Whence It CameThis morning I left a graffiti mini-card on a number of the desks in the stacks, study carrels, and eraser-holders on the A-level. It was a strange moment, leaving reminders of things long-erased on the A-level; it was even stranger to leave a card with an image of a piece of graffiti… under that piece of graffiti.

If you came across this site from one of those cards, welcome!


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