Where There Is No Weekend
As we snaked up I-84 towards Harvard, on what should have been an exhilarating mission to tap into the Crimson party scene, we caught ourselves yawning instead of gasping. We’d caffeinated before hitting the road, but the text messages flooding in were deflating our expectations for a good time. Every buzz on the smartphone announced yet another glum prophet of our Friday night. “Hopefully you find something fun to do, but it is Harvard so the odds are against you,” said one Facebook message from a Cantab friend.
Ted Conover: Shape-Shifter, Meat Inspector, Journalist
Seniors stressing over post-graduation plans might consider Ted Conover as a potential guru. A celebrated participatory journalist with a Pulitzer nomination under his belt, Conover career-hops for a living, dipping into other people’s experiences in order to write about their lives from a first-person point of view.
Philosophy’s Comeback Kids
It’s 3 a.m., and Professor Jason Stanley is surprised to find himself in bed with his wife. Indeed, since moving to New Haven in August, Stanley has been going to bed earlier than usual. It’s a sad fate for a man who says that, until last year, he would regularly find himself partying in Brooklyn »
Hey, Big Spender!
The Levin administration convinced donors to part ways with $1 million, $5 million, or $100 million. But did all that money translate into undue influence?
Under Levin, the administration developed a strong base of alumni donors, with whom Yale’s senior administrators maintain relationships. In doing so, Yale has aligned donors’ visions to its own. And so, for the last twenty years, the answer was an unequivocal no.
Sun On My Ridge: WKND gets naked
A relentless pattern; a relentless panting. Thump. Thump. Back and forth. Thrust and groan.
The wind caressed our naked bodies.
Sweat ran down our sun-kissed skin.
Leah heaved. Yuvie squealed. He hit hard.
Jennifer watched from the sidelines.
No Juliet for this Romeo
As it turns out, Café Romeo doesn’t just peddle fancy Norwegian water bottles. They sell whole grains, too.
The New Mayor: A Popularity Contest?
With the mayoral campaigns stressing skills over substance, whether a candidate chooses to talk to students at a meet-and-greet, a master’s tea, a roundtable or while hanging around on Cross Campus can tell us something about the personalities in this race — and what really separates them.
‘California Suite’ Outgrows Script
As the specter of final exams confronts me with my spectacular ignorance, I find it healthy to take the occasional inventory of the little wisdoms Yale has taught me.
In Praise of Imitation
In two weeks, I’ll hit the obscure, awkward age of 19 — a little above adult, a step below maturity — and yet, I’ll have lived 19 times, at least, died 19 times, at least, to feel a bit above the whole birthday hoopla.
At Co-op Theater, ‘Castor et Pollux’ showcases Yale larks
Opera: that classically entwined genre that shrieks at you from a high, high pedestal. One hundred-and-twenty DS’ers bursting into song. Harold Bloom on acid. Opera lumbers towards you from five centuries’ distance, chasing after extinct categories of love and tragedy. If you’ve ever heard diplomats talk about borders, that’s how opera talks about love: Endless quibbles, a neurotic push-and-shove.
How gracefully, then, “Castor et Pollux” annoys you.