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(06/09/02 9:00am)
Ah, the solemnity of an Ivy League graduation. All the young Brahmins in their gown-hidden letter sweaters and navy suits and pleated skirts, nodding pleasantly at Mummy and Dad before they step onto the platform in orderly and dignified fashion to receive their diplomas and bid quietly regretful farewells to Jimmy Wright in person. Dignity, respect, tradition.
(05/28/02 9:00am)
Okay, it's the last time you'll have your column run in a college paper. This is your exit, man. What do you write about? Do you cast tearful goodbyes at your faithful readers? Do you get in one last, useless dig at the Greek system? Do you take the opportunity to curse out those who trod on you along the way?
(03/26/02 11:00am)
As every scientist knows, there are only a few characteristics that separate humankind from the rest of the animal kingdom. For all our supposed superiority, we are susceptible to the same basic impulses of hunger, thirst, sex and potty-time that drive our furry and scaly friends. However, even the stately baboon cannot lay claim to something that belongs uniquely to the ranks of homo sapiens worldwide, and that is the inside joke.
(02/18/02 11:00am)
Everything's got an expiration date nowadays. Have you noticed? Foodstuffs, batteries, film, contraceptives -- each of them marked for an eventual demise. All things must pass from the earth, as John Locke once noted. Indeed our material goods are as precariously bound to the mortal coil as we are. Thanks to the miracles of science, we can pinpoint with marvelous accuracy when these products will become no longer useful to us, i.e. when they begin to curdle or putrefy.
(02/14/02 11:00am)
What of this "Valentine's Day?" A friend of mine has christened it Black Thursday, akin to that famous day of the plagues in the Middle Ages -- Black Friday. (Last year, of course, he had Black Wednesday and next year he'll have the genuine article.) Apparently it's a good day each year for 99 Rock, where he's a DJ: lots of people like to call in with brokenhearted and spiteful song requests. And the other day I got a bulletin gleefully proclaiming, "This Thursday is V-Day, which is not only Valentine's Day but VAGINA DAY!" (exclamation point added, capitals not). "V-Day" will be all about performing the Vagina Monologues and benefiting the women of Afghanistan.
(01/21/02 11:00am)
Taking an English Department course here at Dartmouth is always a source of joy and scholastic wonder for me. I come away each time with an augmented understanding of the universe, Roland Barthes, and -- yes, I will dare to say it, though with a tear in my eye -- myself. But I realized recently that many people do not know of these esoteric pleasures, having ceased their education in literature after English 5 (course title: "What is a Verb?"). Thus, what follows is an average lecture from an average English course. The professor is standing before an attentive audience of between 15 and 130 people, addressing the students with a professional air and chalk-stained clothing. The topic at hand is a famous or little-known piece of literature, postmodern or 19th century, pop trash or critically acclaimed. The professor has read it 71 times.
(01/14/02 11:00am)
In these overcrowded days, even the act of grabbing a bite to eat can feel like a chore. Who among us has not been witness to the surging masses of people stifling Food Court at prime meal time (6 to 7:30 p.m.)? I and hundreds of others have felt buffeted by the throngs, have traveled through the bane of claustrophobics in that basic quest for sustenance. So I can sympathize with your plight. Thus, I'd like to propose a game of sorts for you to try next time you're in Food Court, waiting in an interminable queue for your piece of the proverbial meat pie. See if you can spot each of the thirteen Food Court characters listed below.
(01/04/02 11:00am)
Some nights I have a dream that I'm back in a high school theatre production, wilting under the unforgiving offstage gaze of the director. It's not a rehearsal; this is the real thing, baby, and the people out there in those hideous blue-and-red seats want to be entertained. I've been thrown into the staging of a play completely unfamiliar to me. Most times, I don't even know the title, let alone what part I'm supposed to be playing or what my lines are or when to say them.
(11/16/01 11:00am)
Recently I received a small green card in my Hinman Box advertising something called "White Ribbon Day" slated for this Saturday, Nov. 17. "Oh," I thought, "apparently some cause I haven't heard about yet." I read on to discover that "Men are invited to receive a White Ribbon, a symbol of a pledge never to commit, condone, or remain silent about violence against women."
(11/05/01 11:00am)
These are troubled times, it's true. Our ideas and preconceptions are constantly challenged; our prejudices are being dragged out into the unforgiving light of truth. With this in mind, we should recognize the importance of not merely tolerating those who are different from us, but accepting them completely and loving them as we would our brothers and sisters. However dissimilar from ourselves these people may seem on the outside, they are just as capable of decency and worthy of respect on the inside as we are.
(10/22/01 9:00am)
So we Dartmouth students, like any other community or society, have our own lingo. There are some words in this lexicon that are commonly used at college campuses across the nation, like "pong," "dude" and "damn-is-it-freakin-time-to-get-up-already?" Other terms are peculiar to this campus alone, such as "BlitzMail" and "Parkhurst" as a verb. The phrase that I'd like to examine now is possibly a nationwide phenomenon, or possibly a Dartmouth-centered circumstance; I am too lazy to investigate the matter in any great depth. Anyway, the phrase is this:
(09/24/01 9:00am)
As another grand year kicks off here at
(11/01/00 11:00am)
Recently my mother groused about not being mentioned at all in the two and a half years I've been writing columns for The Dartmouth. Though this is untrue -- I can produce a factual fact that I made a reference to my "mommy" in a January '99 piece -- I would still like to devote this particular column to my mother.
(10/18/00 9:00am)
Dear Reader: As I am residing in New York City for the term, and many Dartmouth students will experience an internship in a big city at some point, and/or work in the big city after graduation, I thought it appropriate and beneficial to offer a few pointers about city life. One can't get by in the big city without the "street smarts," the "know-how" that I will present to you. Today's topic: transportation.
(10/04/00 9:00am)
As with many people in America, I occasionally have the occasion to watch a little TV. This impressive device, found in living rooms, bedrooms and dorm rooms across the country, has often been maligned by mean-spirited critics, prompting them to dub it "the idiot box," "the boob tube" or "the goddamned television." Friends, I wish to occupy the opposite ground, and take a moment to laud the greatest invention since six-string guitars.
(08/10/00 9:00am)
I'd like to take this particular column as an opportunity to recognize an oft-overlooked segment of our society. In this day and age, acknowledgment of the diversity inherent in the American population is absolutely essential; and yet, most of the time, we fail to take into account these forgotten people. Yes, by now you've probably guessed it -- I'm talking about idiots.
(07/27/00 9:00am)
Yes, it was inevitable. A sequel to the popular, yet controversial column that ran at the end of '98 Fall term was unavoidable: there are many things on this great green globe that deserve immortalization here. So, then, without further ado, our list. Here are things that bug me.
(07/13/00 9:00am)
What can I say? A scrappy little snack has captured my heart. I have become utterly enraptured. Cheddar Chex Mix, with its peculiarly appealing amalgam of light Chex, dark Chex, pretzels and nuts, all lightly basted with a cheese flavoring, has taken hold of me. And it won't let go.
(07/03/00 9:00am)
Ah yes, the requisite task that comes with switching your place of residence, especially on a college campus. No, I'm not talking about taking your Jennifer Love Hewitt posters off the wall. I'm talking about moving, moving, smiling, damned moving. That cursed process in which you pack up your life, take it with you, lose a few parts along the way, and generally unfold it in rumpled but satisfactory condition in your new setting.
(05/19/00 9:00am)
Once upon a time, in a collegial kingdom far removed from our space and epoch, there lived a young vassal named Jeff, who wrote columns for the local newspaper. (He had to write them on parchment with a quill, of course.) One day his editor, the Good Queen Op-Ed, said to him, "Prithee, Jeff, wilt thou write on th'eminent subject of Green Key?"