In Wenatchee, where I grew up, graffiti is pretty much synonymous with gang activity. In fact, the same could be said for most cities I’ve been in.

It wasn’t until this year, when I first came to Bellingham, that I was introduced to what I’m going to call “granola graffiti.” You know—graffiti that still covers a public area, still costs time and money to clean or cover up and is still illegal, but instead of being gang symbols says something like, “Make Love, Not War.”

While this kind of message is admittedly less offensive than that of conventional graffiti, it begs the question: should all graffiti be regarded the same?

And when it comes to Western in particular, where graffiti cases are at an all-time high, what’s the solution? Should graffiti in all forms be intolerable, or should there be a designated place where it’s welcome—even celebrated—as an art form?

Student director, screenwriter and film editor Gabriel Conroy turns Western and Bellingham into a fallen city infested by zombies and hippies in his film “Lord of Zombie City,” which premiered May 8. The student written and directed film, which spoofs big budget Hollywood movies, features an impressively large cast of student actors and a dramatic original soundtrack. It follows the struggle of Nerf Marchino, a former Western Student who became a “private dick” after the zombie uprising and the fall of the university, and Aeyr, an elven warrior who emerged from the woods of Sehome Hill, as they attempt to get to the bottom of the recent stirring in the fallen city’s usually peaceful zombie population.

The film’s special effects lend portions of the movie a comic-book feel, with high contrast, texture and colored lighting. KVIK’s skilled camera angles and editing turn Western’s campus and the surrounding area into zombie patrolled alleys, abandoned construction sites and a wooded cave complete with a secret doorway. The exaggerated scenic shots recreate the melodramatic, bigger than life feel of some major motion pictures. The script—sometimes disjointed, but often witty—and direction take jabs at horror films, fantasy films and Western’s hippie-throwback population.

The Depot, which shut down this past August, was largely regarded as a den of sin by many Western students. Surrounded by all sorts of rumors, it was not somewhere you would ever consider taking a date; unless, of course, you wanted to send them the unflattering message “I think you’re cheap.”

Located at 1327 North State Street, The Copper Hog, Bellingham’s first ever gastro-pub, has entirely reformed the mangy remains The Depot left behind into a place focused on quality food and spirits. In fact, you may encounter the opposite problem after bringing a date here, as they might get the idea that you think too highly of them. From the vaulted ceilings with gold trim, the deep red walls and recessed lighting to the fresh tulips on every table and the large ferns standing in the corners, this pub looks reminiscent of Britain’s imperialist days with prices to match.