If You Don't Know, Now You Know
How can I be trendier? Maddie responds.
How can I be trendier? Maddie responds.
It would have been impossible to imagine what this place would be like, what it would mean to call Hanover home. The opportunity to attend a school like Dartmouth, as many will undoubtedly remind you, is an incredible thing. Yet, it seems students often fall into one of two traps — that of either relentless complaints aimed at the College or the unquestioned glorification of College tradition with no critique.
Fear not, student body. Yak away about your professors’ in-class jokes and the long list of things you’d rather do than sit through one more lab.
And while our time here may be full of friendships, formals and seemingly endless midterm weeks, the true prize of the College is the strength it can give you to go out into the world and have confidence in your ability to make a difference.
So a priest, a rabbi and a monk walk into a Unitarian Universalist church.
The dance floor is crowded — it’s a Friday night after all. I wind my way around raised arms, shaking booties and that one person trying to twerk on the wall in the corner.
Just as I was assigned to write a piece on riding Advance Transit for three hours, I ran out of ramen noodles and had to send some important documents back to Seoul for my internship in the summer. How handy — I could work on my story and run the errands at the same time! I decided to go to the FedEx shipping center in Lebanon and then drop by Walmart in West Lebanon.
At some point this weekend, I overheard Mikayla Delores-Burt — one of my associates — stumble over the last word of Sir Mix-a-Lot’s most famous line with hilarious results: “I like big butts, and I cannot die.”
What a week. Writing this column in the midst of crises in Baltimore and Nepal, this all feels silly. And yet here we are.
If last week Charlie and Maddie were just entering the delicate phase of a partnership, this week saw a gargantuan struggle for the reins of power in the back corner of Robinson Hall.
What’s the next dancing sensation now that twerking is out?
19 — The age of Alia Sabur, the world’s youngest college professor
It could take 10 weeks, six months, maybe two years. That’s the thing with mental health — you can never predict with certainty when, how or even if healing will take place.
\n Like many of us here, I rage every Saturday. Once 6 p.m. rolls around, I grab dinner with a couple of my friends and then head off for a series of escapades, often stretching into the wee hours of the night.
’Twas the very witching hour of night, when churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes contagion into the world. No, we are not Prince Hamlet, but his words (and some gentle nudging from our editors) drove us into the Dartmouth College Cemetery like Young Goodman Browns to witness the debauchery of students in this labyrinth of death.
Most of us enjoy at least some privacy at the College. We are not tied to a name, a past or a YouTube video. Others don’t have that freedom. It is difficult to have privacy when people associate ideas with your name.
This week, though, in the interest of writing a story on privacy, I decided to get into some of the most guarded spaces on campus — the more intimidating the sign on the door, the better.
I’m on the Dartmouth Coach, headed to Rhode Island to turn up and see Waka Flocka Flame.
Netflix is releasing a new show called “Fuller House,” a “Full House” (1987) sequel set to feature the new American family. Whether this will include a same-sex marriage or obese individuals, I do not know.
The first week of a partnership is delicate.