I'm not one to dwell in nostalgia and sentimentality. Graduation shouldn't be about losing Dartmouth, but about carrying what we've learned from our school into the next stages of our life.
More equivocating than Donald Rumsfeld at a press conference, more confusing than Michael Jackson naming his baby "Blanket," just a bit longer-lived than the average mayfly, Green Key is here again.
What is particularly galling about the peccadillo caused by Kathleen Reeder's May 2 column in The Dartmouth, "Sex, Lies and Feminism," is that she has not been held accountable for her flawed conception of feminism.
This is a typical example of one song that your, uh, English music newspapers would call a drug song: " I go, I don't, uh, I don't write druuuggg songs " (slurring words), "You know like I never have, I wouldn't know how to go about it, but this is not a drug song [crowd claps]. I'm not saying it for any kind of defensive reason or anything like that.
I would just like to chart how one song, "The Anthem," by the totally inept neo-punk band, Good Charlotte, has been manufactured into a hit.
While most Dartmouth students drank themselves silly in tropical climes or bored themselves at home over break, I did something different.
The big three -- Homecoming, Winter Carnival and Green Key -- have an almost cult-like appeal to them.
If you're holding this column in your hands, the words you are reading are already dead. And when I say dead, I mean there's a salad fork sticking out of it the size of post-coke addiction Matthew Perry.
Though Ehud Barak did not give a speech worthy of a classical orator, he made his point emphatically clear: this is the "world war on terror," and it is our duty (read: the West and Israel) as the defenders of all that is good and democratic to stamp out Palestinian terrorism.
For the first time in my life, I have seen urban America outside of the confines of Boston. Sure I'd been to redneck burgs in Wyoming and Utah, but I'd never seen a real city past the Mississippi.