Some of these deaths may have been natural, unexpected, anticipated, many unreported, but how many of them were due to injustice? How many of them could have been prevented?
- When we look at this time of year with a very realistic eye, the truth is painfully present: unless someone did something really nice for you on Valentine’s Day, there’s really nothing good about February. It’s one of those months you spend waiting for it to end.
- I was and remain ambivalent to the premise of common ground and more importantly the lack thereof. Namely, I feel that most common qualifiers are misnomers and artificial constructs.
- Can you imagine going to Carleton for eternity? An eternity of three-term years, an eternity of convo every Friday, Crack House every Wednesday, three-day fifth weekends, the occasional sighting of Schiller, the occasional all-nighter, the occasional hookup? After a while you’d have taken every course at Carleton.
- On my last run, as the stale smell of the turkey farm lingered in the air, I started to think about the direction I was running: East. Then I began to wonder, what if I just kept running? I began to envision myself on a map, little Maddy the Runner, heading down I-94, to Wisconsin, to the Great Lakes, home to Chicago, past Chicago to Ohio, Pennsylvania, Maine, the salty Atlantic Ocean.
- In reality, there are very, very few inherently “bad people,” and I am convinced that if you or I were in the auspicious positions of these economic gurus, we would have done the same thing with the same catastrophic result. So, my worry is not about these lucky people in particular – they’re just humans. My worry is about emotional distance.
“You only get mad at a seatbelt when you’re not getting into an accident.” It’s a great metaphor for the major, and I think it’s one that’s worth exploring further.
Valentine’s Day, like Christmas and birthdays, can be a bummer for those of us trying to avoid wheat flour—and by that I mean pretty much every type of baked good that crops up around these times of year.
When 365 days pass by from the day a person is born, it is custom to bake them a large, light the cake with candles on top, and sing a song entitled, "happy birthday." These ways of life happen mechanically, injected into the human mind from birth. It is how humans cope; it is how they feel a part of something.
Even as every single student on this campus picks up more and more reading, gets more and more tired, skips more and more showers and tears out more and more of their hair, the campus itself, as a whole, still functions somehow.
We use technology because it’s technology. I think there’s something deeply wrong with that. Notice how when I said technology you immediately knew what I was thinking about: new electronics.
The cliché is that Carleton students “work hard and play hard,” that we spend all our time during the week on our workload and so we need to move just as far in the other direction during the weekend – we need to play beer pong or go to a Sayles Dance after a week of reading Adorno and pipetting lizard blood, as if that will reset us.