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Well, ladies and gentlemen, you made it. You, the graduating Class of 2016, are about to enter the terrifying world the rest of us have been screwing up for quite some time now.
You: “Well, I think I’ll be majoring in philosophy, with a minor in English or history. I’m still not really sure…” Uncle Wahlst: “What’s the plan for paying the bills?” And there it begins.
Do you feel misunderstood, bored or constantly in the company of people who don’t care about your “One time we were in Trafalgar Square and...” stories?
There is a curious room just to the right of the Baker library entrance (the one that opens onto Tuck Drive). If you haven’t yet been inclined to step inside, I encourage you to do so.
Speculation mounts as we at Dartbeat wonder: Who is the Streeter arsonist? Who broke the window at TDX?
Valentine’s Day is weird. It is like every other holiday in that there are things you are supposed to eat (chocolate), supposed to do and supposed to send to people.
We’ve all been there: You’re considering applying early decision to Dartmouth and your parents drag you to Hanover one (very) cold weekend for a tour of campus.
Boxing, caribou migrations, menacing weapons, car engines that were never intended to run, walrus stomachs—Dartmouth’s Hood Museum of Art has it all.