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(08/08/00 9:00am)
During the recent Class of 2002 Family weekend, my family came up to Hanover to visit with me and to get a better sense of what my life at Dartmouth College is like. Upon walking into my house and getting her first whiff of the stale beer fumes emanating from the basement, my mom made use of the Dartmouth vernacular and exclaimed, "I think I'm going to boot." Not wanting my parents to get too clear an idea of what their $130,000 college investment is really paying for, I decided to get them out of the frat as soon as possible. We set off looking for a classier place, one where our shoes (and the dog) wouldn't stick to the floor and the beverages weren't served exclusively in cheap, 12-oz. plastic cups. So I took them to another Webster Avenue abode, the President's house, where President Wright and his wife were giving a reception for the visiting families.
(07/25/00 9:00am)
I broke my arm late last week but I vowed to make every attempt not to let it ruin my Tubestock weekend. Consequently, this column -- typed entirely with my right hand and at a snail's pace -- comes at the end of a long, alcohol-drenched, Codeine-induced weekend stupor. And as such, I'm not even going to attempt to come up with a single, unifying theme to write about. While I could simply reprise my standard "Save the Greeks" theme, I think I've pulled that trick one too many times, Dear Readers, and we're all bored of it. Instead, what follows will probably amount to little more than a forgettable, meandering rant. So forgive me. It's no "Kubla Khan," but in my defense, I'm no Coleridge, Tylenol-3 isn't quite opium, and Dartmouth sure as hell ain't no Xanadu.
(07/11/00 9:00am)
The great tragedy of life is not that men perish, but that they cease to love." Or so wrote Somerset Maugham, the British playwright and novelist. The great tragedy facing Dartmouth College in this time of transition and growth is not that it will perish, but that people will cease to love it.
(06/27/00 9:00am)
So this is it, the fabled sophomore summer. The highlight of life in Hanover. The crowning jewel of the oft-maligned D-Plan. The term by which all others will be judged. With all the fanfare and ballyhoo surrounding what purports to be among the best ten weeks of my life here on Earth, I figured I'd approach it with an open mind. So, for now at least, I'll keep my complaining to a minimum. I won't blast the Student Assembly or gripe about the administration or prattle on about my precious Greek system. Instead, I'll ruminate rather shallowly about what this term means to Dartmouth students. And if I ramble on or lose my focus, it won't really matter, because if you're sitting down somewhere reading this instead of doing something fun and taking advantage of the lovely weather, well, you're entirely missing the point of Camp Dartmouth anyway.
(05/19/00 9:00am)
The thing I like most about big weekends, especially Green Key, is that everyone seems to be having fun. On any other weekend, parties can get kind of lame, work can pile up, stress can drag you down, but on Green Key, all of that is forgotten and the entire school focuses on having a good time.
(05/05/00 9:00am)
In the past, I've written a few columns that might seem a little negative about one aspect of Dartmouth or another. A lot of loyal readers take the time to respond to my columns, letting me know how they feel about my opinions. And I thank you both. The most common response that I get, aside from various Trustees challenging me to the Dome, is from students who wonder why, if I seem to hate Dartmouth so much, I don't either transfer or do something positive to enact change. The answer, friends, is that I'm far too lazy and incompetent to do anything besides complain. Also, this belief that I hate Dartmouth is a myth. I'm actually very happy to be here; there are a lot of things about this campus that I love.
(04/25/00 9:00am)
A European friend once told me the great thing about democracy and America is that every kid can dream of growing up and one day becoming the President of the United States. I always thought the great thing about democracy and America is that everyone is born free and equal and that the women shave their legs. I have never cared much for politics. In the sixth grade, I was elected vice president of the Student Government. It was the only time I ever ran for any office, and I was only elected because my campaign slogans were full of witty rhymes ("Vote for Kuhn, he's no goon"), and my mom baked brownies that I handed out at the polls on election day. When I learned that the Student Council met before school at the ungodly hour of 7 a.m., I resigned and terminated what might have been a promising career of corrupt political machinations.
(04/07/00 9:00am)
Ah, spring. A time when the earth begins to warm, flowers bloom, birds sing again, fathers play catch with their sons, and the sun shines down on everything. A renewal of hope, a clean slate for Mother Nature and humanity alike. And, at Dartmouth, a time for hundreds of prospective students to flock to campus and catch a better glimpse of what going to college in the middle of nowhere might be like.
(04/05/00 9:00am)
Whether you welcome it with open arms or cower underneath your desk in Unabomber-like apprehension of its magical, mysterious technology, there's no denying the influence the Internet has on today's society. Hailed as the "shiny new cotton-gin" for the 21st Century, the Internet's impact on the economy is already quite evident. Countless success stories from start-up company CEOs serve as daily reminders of what the American dream is all about--getting ridiculously rich while working at home in your underwear.
(02/25/00 11:00am)
It's no secret that I've criticized Dartmouth College in the past. But it has always been under the guise of tough love; like a mother reproachfully scolding her child in public or a monkey chewing the gnats out of another monkey's fur -- it's not always pretty, but it's done for the sake of improvement. And I'm going to criticize Dartmouth again here, but this time it'll be different, this time I'm not pulling any punches, this time it's personal.
(02/18/00 11:00am)
Recently, the faculty voted 81-0 in favor of complete derecognition of the Greek system at Dartmouth College. Whether this unanimous vote is reflective of the way the faculty really feels or if it is merely the result of faculty members kowtowing to the administration in an effort to show a unified front isn't exactly clear. But one thing is clear -- my grades (read: future) are dependent on faculty members not hating me, so before I go insulting them, I must remember to tread lightly or this whole thing may come back to haunt me.
(02/08/00 11:00am)
As a columnist, I have it pretty easy. I don't ever have to go to meetings, I don't ever have to interview people, and I don't even have to worry too much about being "factually accurate." Every two weeks, I just rehash the same pro-Greek anti-administration column I've used for the past year now and then e-mail it into my editor. I'm a pretty lucky guy; I haven't had to come up with a new idea or original thought since last January but I still get my picture in the paper every now and then.
(01/20/00 11:00am)
I've never been the type of guy anyone would describe as "brimming with self-confidence." In fact, I can be downright shy in many situations. Since I'm not a psychology major, I won't even begin to try to figure out why I always walk with my head down, why I'm constantly afraid to talk in class, or why my palms sweat when I talk to girls. Lucky for me, I don't have to figure out what deep-seeded inadequacies make me the overly self-conscious, self-effacing lout that I am. The College has figured it all out for me: I'm not a person of "high-ability."
(01/07/00 11:00am)
This winter break I had the opportunity to fulfill a goal of mine: I became a mall Santa Claus. After a much needed, post-finals, three-day bender on Webster Ave, I went home to idyllic suburban New Jersey and caught up on some sleep. That got boring after two days and, since my high school friends were going to be in college for another two weeks, I decided to get a job to refuel my slush fund. But I didn't want just any job, oh no, I wanted something big, something I'd never done before. I wanted to join the legion of red-felt-clad merrymakers that span the globe and bring seasonal cheer to good little boys and girls everywhere.
(11/22/99 11:00am)
Thanksgiving is Thursday. Out of all the major secular American holidays, Thanksgiving used to be my least favorite. For me, Thanksgiving had always been like those big couches in Sanborn -- drab, stuffy, and it puts you to sleep. Since I've started college, however, Thanksgiving has been more than just a chance to bulk up my tryptophan-intake while making useless small-talk with distant relatives over cold mashed potatoes, it's been a much needed respite from my busy Dartmouth schedule and a chance to spend time with friends and family back home. So let this column stand as my tribute to Thanksgiving, let this be the platter that I bring to the table, a veritable cornucopia overflowing not with corn, squash, and pumpkin, but with quips, ideas, and inane ramblings.
(11/11/99 11:00am)
If you've read any of my columns since the Trustee Initiative was announced, you probably know at least one thing about me: I am a firm believer in the positive aspects and influences of the Greek system at Dartmouth College. Every time I sit down to write a column, I tell myself I'm not going to write about the Greek system yet again. I've said my piece, people know where I stand, it's time to move on. But, deep down inside, I am a boring, scared little man who leads a rather dull and uninteresting life. So if I want to prattle on about the same topic and make the same thinly veiled attacks on the Trustees for six months, please humor me -- it's either that or write really sappy columns about how much I love it here.
(10/22/99 9:00am)
Homecoming meant a lot to me last year. It was my first "big weekend" at Dartmouth, my first inoculation of the long-standing tradition in which Dartmouth is so famously steeped. And I had a great time. I helped build the bonfire, I ran in the freshman sweep, and I ran around the fire one hundred and two times--the wrong way (with the rest of the freshmen rugby players and to the chagrin of almost everyone else).
(10/13/99 9:00am)
Am I happy at Dartmouth? That's a question I found myself asking a lot last year as a freshman. I was a clueless, nave individual who hadn't really seen much of the world but was now committed to spending the next four years tucked away in some little, obscure, verdant corner of it. But, all things considered, I'd have to say that I was happy at Dartmouth. I felt that I was in the right place for me. And I haven't really thought about it much since. Until this week.
(10/05/99 9:00am)
I really didn't want to start this year off with another column about the Trustees or their Initiative since it seems like that was all I wrote about for much of last year and there's only so many jokes you can make before getting hit with a libel suit. But everything else is boring and I'm on a deadline, so here goes:
(05/28/99 9:00am)
I'm almost done with my first year here atDartmouth. As I look back on a year that went by unbelievably quickly, I can say one thing with relative certainty: so far, I've had a pretty good time here despite all the administration's proposed "improvements." Maybe this year wasn't really the Dartmouth experience I had hoped for or expected, but it was a worthwhile one nonetheless.