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  • Piles

    I was in my favorite thrift store right before I left for college, and while I normally love shopping, I could only convince myself to buy one thing.

  • A Toxic Environment

    I still remember the night my freshman fall when someone vomited all over my favorite jacket.

  • Meet Your Food

    Imagine yourself cultivating with a shopping cart or hunting in the woods with a coupon booklet.

  • Smashing! A Nigel Thornberry Reflection

    A decade ago, in a land of talking animals and mobile transforming homes, lived a man that captured my animal-loving heart.

  • On Thinghood, Waste, and Reusable Cups

    My sister is a dumpster diver. I don’t think it’s possible for her to go anywhere without veering into a trashcan.

  • Can Foodies Love Fritos? Thoughts from a confused environmental-foodie hypocrite

    Do I consider myself an environmentalist – yes! Do I eat Oreos and fly in airplanes– yes! Am I hypocritical – maybe.

  • Your Life is Your Legacy

    Ask a Carl, “What are your traditions?” You will probably hear a detached recounting of what makes Carleton known outside its own community, as if tradition means a trite section of the campus tour script.

  • Whither the Acceptance Pic?

    If you pay close attention, you can definitely tell the signs of changes that go up while the leaves fall today, and like the leaves this year, these signs are showing more conspicuously than before.

  • Silly Days

    I always thought movies like “Animal House” were very amusing, but also completely made up.

  • Tradition of One

    It happens every term. Suddenly, everything is done: all the readings on the syllabi, all the essays, all the violin juries, all the scribbled notes.

  • Where to Now?

    When John Kerry announced the resumption of Israeli-Palestinian peace talks last July, my office took the afternoon off and threw a party.

  • Letter From the Editor

    A year ago, I never thought I would become Co-Editor-in-Chief of the paper with J.M. We were both copy-editors who enjoyed coming to The Carletonian office on Thursday nights to “find errors” (read: mess around and listen to music).