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  • Valentines Vignettes

    COLUMN: Valentines Vignettes

    The day is upon us. That day where everything is drenched in pink, candy grams are delivered by every service trip on campus, and hearts all over are stolen or crushed. Yes, it’s the day of anticipation and let down that is an ode to St. Valentine. Now I don’t mean to be the morbid writer who refuses to believe in the idea of romanticism—I’ve read my fair share of Jane Austen, and I truly wish I lived in the 1800s, but alas that is not the life I have been given, and that is not the time period I reside in. No, I, along with the rest of you, have been cursed to live in a time of romantic confusion, women’s equality, and a muddled mess that is Boston College dating. So in honor of the Hallmark-created day of sappy cards and oversized stuffed animals, lets explore the different types of relationships here at BC and see if there is hope for all those who secretly wish to be delivered a rose from the Relay Fundraiser.

  • A Life Changing Experience

    COLUMN: A Life Changing Experience

    Once in a generation, a film comes along that captivates the hearts and minds of its audience in ways previously unimaginable. I had planned on writing this column on some important global issue or current event, but instead I am repurposing it to announce to the world that this past weekend I had the good fortune of seeing this generation’s cinematic masterpiece. Equal parts drama, comedy, action, romance, and thriller—this movie left me both wholly satisfied yet simultaneously aching for more. I am speaking, of course, of the Syfy original movie Dinocroc vs Supergator.

  • Mean What You Say

    COLUMN: Mean What You Say

    In her essay, "Mr. Bennet and Mrs. Brown," Virginia Woolf writes of the "appalling effort of saying what I [she] meant." Her context is a literary one, but as she was in the business of human character, and a master of the business at that, it seems appropriate to consider that statement applicable to flesh and blood humans.

  • A Modern Valentine

    COLUMN: A Modern Valentine

    According to a New York Magazine article, on Feb. 15, a 50-meter-wide asteroid will fly past Earth at shockingly close range. While 17,200 miles may not seem like a hop, skip, and a jump away from us earthlings, NASA’s Near Earth Object Program has "never seen an object get so close to Earth." And we all thought Valentine’s Day couldn’t get more stressful.

  • The Gender Question

    COLUMN: The Gender Question

    Hi, I’m Evan and I’m a women’s studies minor. I’m a passionate supporter of GLBTQ rights, an actor, and a huge fan of Mumford and Sons. I don’t really enjoy going to the gym, but I do know the words to every song in Les Miserables (actually). While I like watching sports, I don’t know much about them, and I could probably name more members of American Ballet Theatre than the Baltimore Ravens. And I am very much a man.

  • Angst And A&S

    COLUMN: Angst And A&S

    Do you slurp down Busch Lattes four nights a week before trekking down to a familiar windowless hovel in Cleveland Circle because you’ve reasoned that if enough of the last semester of your college career is forgotten to drunken nights, then the foreboding of graduation may too disappear? Is your June horizon all doom and gloom and dread because the prospects of gainful employment, independence, and all that good stuff are looking ever slimmer? Are you feeling sad and rueful because your liberal arts education appears to have no practical worth?

  • BC Should Walk The Walk

    COLUMN: BC Should Walk The Walk

    "I hate this place," my professor says on the first day of classes, "I can’t put the tables the way I want to, there’s no podium, and you guys get distracted with the pretty view from the window." She was partly kidding about the last part, but she is right about one thing—Stokes was not designed with teachers in mind. Instead, it serves as a pillar of one of Boston College’s most iconic features—the beautiful campus. And BC puts a lot of effort into keeping it that way. Every year they lay down more carpet grass, just to have it trampled by throngs of students trying to skirt slow walkers on the paths. When high school students tour the campus, the best looking buildings are highlighted—Gasson, Fulton, Bapst, and now Stokes.

  • The Quarter-Life Crisis

    COLUMN: The Quarter-Life Crisis

    Anthony Davis (the starting rookie center for the New Orleans Horn—ahem, Pelicans) was born on March 11, 1993. Ryan McGuill (the world renowned "King of Making Microwaved Oatmeal") was born on Feb. 21, 1992. I’m about a year older than him and this kid has already made more money than I will in two lifetimes.

  • Dress Up For Class And Life

    COLUMN: Dress Up For Class And Life

    ...A story by and for hopeless romantics. Freshman year was all about dressing to impress. I wore my new Urban tops and skinny jeans and boots and cardigans and necklaces, blah blah blah. Then after hearing, "Ugh only freshmen actually dress up for class," my heart was crushed as I collapsed into stretchy pants and hoodies. (This is not to say that caring for your appearance is "So freshman year LOL.") It was easy to embrace the t-shirt, leggings, and UGG standard because, well, it’s super comfy and I don’t care. I even wore gym shorts to work. Zero cares. I dressed like this for a while, only putting in extra effort when a special someone was in one of my classes, or I just felt like making all the girls in Mac super jealous of my super average style.

    1 comment

  • The Health of Nations

    COLUMN: The Health Of Nations

    It is hardly a secret that we harbor a near universal fear of death, the prospect of no longer existing simply being too daunting. Indeed, we would commit most any act, no matter what the cost may be, to stave off the inevitable, and understandably so—it is death we are talking about, after all. As far as fears go, however, the problem that emerges is that while my fear of spiders incurs no economic cost, save for a few cans of Raid perhaps, the evasion of death proves an exceedingly expensive fear to possess, for individuals and society as a whole.

  • Your Life Is Important

    COLUMN: Your Life Is Important

    College students, and teens especially, tend to believe that they’re immortal or indestructible, like Superman or Baldwin the eagle. With so much of our lives ahead of us, we tend to believe that nothing can hurt us—unless we get anything short of straight As, of course. Unfortunately, several people, including many young people just like us, die each day as a result of car accidents because they were not wearing seatbelts. Devastatingly, one of these people happened to be my best friend.

  • It's Because I'm Brown

    COLUMN: It's Because I'm Brown

    When my friend posted a diagram on Facebook entitled ‘Build Your Own Survival Team,’ I was initially tagged as the person ‘First To Die.’ There was obviously only one rational comment I could write.

    "This is because I’m brown, isn’t it?"

  • Go Ahead...Make My Day

    COLUMN: Go Ahead...Make My Day

    Riding back to Newton Campus on Dec. 14, I received a text from my mother simply saying, "I love you." I was puzzled at first, not that it was unusual for my mother to tell me she loved me, but it seemed somewhat out of the blue. Then I got a push notification from CNN News, alerting me that 26 people, including 20 children, had been killed in a school shooting in Newtown, CT. I’m certain now I wasn’t the only one who got that text. In the days immediately following the shooting it quickly became apparent that gun control would play a large role in the President’s policy agenda for his impending second term. Unfortunately, what is the right response to an undeniable tragedy may not be the best move for the President politically.

  • How Well Do You Know The Court?

    COLUMN: How Well Do You Know The Court?

    As citizens of the United States, there are certain civics questions that we should all know the answer to. What are the three branches of government? The executive, legislative, and judicial, of course. Could you name the President of the United States when asked? Yes, Barack Obama. Could you name the Speaker of the House? Probably. But what if I asked you who the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court? Or to name the eight other justices? Or any of them?

  • Pop Life

    COLUMN: Pop Life

    As of today, I have almost 5,000 songs on my computer. In 2000, I went to a show in New York City called Pokemon Live, and after my seven-year-old heart palpitated at the sound of Ash Ketchum’s beautiful onstage voice, I couldn’t resist buying the soundtrack. It was that moment that began my true addiction to music. The next 13 years of my life would be filled with downloading even more songs that I’d organize into sappy break-up playlists, birthday gift mixtapes, and a perfectly polished iTunes library.

  • Patrick Angiolillo

    COLUMN: To Sleep Another Minute

    I watch a little game every morning. My bedroom is the arena, my roommate the contestant, and his alarm clock the challenge. As I roll over half asleep, my eyes only cracked, I am witness to a gymnastic feat that compares to something an Olympic athlete might do to impress a crowd of spectators. The alarm’s shrill buzz tears through the cold morning silence. Just seconds pass, and the contestant is off—a runner down the track, a thoroughbred out the gate.

  • Kristy Barnes

    COLUMN: Work Hard, Play Harder

    With Stokes now open, I assume each and every one of you is having flashbacks to the horrid days that happened anywhere between one and eight semesters ago. That’s right, I’m talking about when you were the new kid and you frantically looked for your classrooms in a foreign building with the sinking thought that maybe you should have left five minutes earlier. Well, let me tell you, from the balcony overlooking the Chocolate Bar, we all looked like frantic freshmen last week as we ran into the halls, into each other, and into the wrong classrooms (or was that only me who managed to do all of that in the span of my first hour?). 

  • Matt Auker

    COLUMN: Shrinking Attention Spans

    So, welcome back everybody. As I sit here in O’Neill on the second day of classes writing for The Heights in a desperate attempt to pad my barren resume so that I may one day graduate and enter into whatever field of corporate slavery my political science major and exceedingly average grades will thrust me into, I find myself reflecting back on my past two and a half years here at BC. 

  • COLUMN: The Snapchat Effect

    Snapchat doesn’t require much of an introduction. Thousands of smartphone-toting 20-somethings send photos/one-to-10 second videos of favorite funny faces, "ironic" road signs, their genitals, that weird thing Sparky does when he comes in from peeing, etc., to friends and family every day with it. Its user population is expanding at a clip reminiscent of recent Twitter- and Instabooms. It’s the next "big thing" in social media, and if you’re not familiar with it yet, you soon will be.

  • COLUMN: Toxic TV

    I’d like you to imagine that you have spent 20 of last week’s 168 hours lounging around different parts of your dormroom/apartment watching each episode of the television phenomenon of this century —Game of Thrones—with a dutiful attentiveness so vigorous that it actually makes you nervous because you’re 99 percent certain that your experience with the show can only be characterized by a sort of religious fervor. You find it unnerving that a TV show influences and stirs you so profoundly, but you justify the behavior because it was winter break, and you didn’t have any other pressing obligations. And, as everyone knows, Game of Thrones really is that good.

     

     

  • COLUMN: Jean Valjean And Me

    While sitting in a stiff movie theatre chair in Chanhassen, MN catching a late night viewing of Les Miserables, I thought about a few things, but for our purposes, most notably two. 1) Movie theatre chairs are one of the most germ-infested areas we can be regularly exposed to, and 2) I had something in common with Jean Valjean.

  • Study Abroad

    While my classmates were waking up early to register for spring semester courses, I was sound asleep. While they were filling out their applications for club executive boards, I was looking up tourist sites in Europe. And while they went to hockey games with their season tickets, I, who will not be at BC for most of the season, booked my flight to London.

  • Full House (Finally)

    Two and a half years ago my family decided to adopt a little girl from Africa. It was the end of my freshmen year, and to be honest, I never thought it would happen.

  • Holidaze

    There are two times during the course of the year when it becomes socially acceptable to skip your service group’s pre-game (anyone else see the irony?) and the subsequent festivities on Foster in order to stay in the cubby of O’Neill you have claimed. That’s right ladies and gentlemen: it’s finals time.

  • Thrill of the chase

    It’s exciting, it’s challenging, and it brings out a primal competitiveness about us. That’s why it’s called “The Chase.” The thrill of the chase has an edge of unpredictability and suspense about it—a sense of fun without commitment. But once the chasing part is over, the end of the road is no longer novel and exciting, but, to many, bland and monotonous.

  • Attack ads and trusting Mike Rowe

    Now that the election dust is beginning to settle—Barack Obama/Mitt Romney, Donkey/Elephant pins have been thrown out (hopefully), picket signs have been trashed or converted into somewhat ironic wall decorations, realizations have been made that bumper stickers are harder to remove than initially thought—we, the voting populous and spectators of the whole hoopla, can begin to look at this election with some degree of objectivity and level-headed retrospection and start extracting important lessons about American society and culture, right? We can ask the big question: What did Election 2012 teach us?

  • An Attempt to Humanize Feminists

      In 10th grade, I had to film a documentary for my AP government class. A group of 30 students, 15- and 16-year-olds, were divided into groups of about five to six people, and each group could choose any topic on which to do their documentary. The only guideline I remember is that the topic had to be politically or socially relevant. 1 comment

  • On anoplexia

    With the holiday season upon us, every aspect of the campus is undergoing a drastic change—including the place we all know and “love,” the Plex. Instead of the regular, semi-repulsive crowded room, it has become a sardine-packed sweatbox. “Feeding time,” normally between the hours of 5 p.m. and 7 p.m., has now been stretched and pulled to the point that the feeling of finding a free elliptical at any time is similar to finding a free table in Hillside at noon. The reason behind this madness is clear—Boston College girls are attempting to burn off an extra pound or two so they can eat more than lettuce in front of their family at Thanksgiving, and BC bros are pumping extra iron so they can impress that girl at home they text strategically two weeks before a vacation. It’s gotten so bad that all the fans do is blow our own breath around the room, and once in a while, if we are really lucky, the garage-like doors are opened to allow oxygen to circulate in. Honestly, the place is gross.

  • Tailgating

    With Notre Dame is behind us and one more home game left in the season, I think it is time that Boston College considers a major overhaul of its tailgating procedures for next year. While I myself had a great time on Saturday and don’t doubt that I am joined by many others in feeling the same, I also heard a lot of “choice words” unfit for print, floating around about what a “fiasco” (to put it mildly) Shea Field was Saturday night before the game. For those of you who weren’t there or made it there after six, when they closed the field for all hoping to enter (though this was only a half-hour after it opened), let me set the scene for you. Beginning at 5 p.m. when tailgating was allegedly supposed to start, a large crowd began to mill around outside of Shea. By 5:30 p.m., this crowd led well past Shea, had gathered in the parking lots, and was spilling out onto Campanella Way. I say gathered because there was no line forming, just a bunch of people clustered together trying to push their way to the entrance.

  • It's that season again

    No, I don’t mean Christmas—which Nordstrom is now so kindly reminding us doesn’t come until after Thanksgiving. And no, I don’t mean this latter holiday, either. I mean “cold season.” That time of year when it’s becoming frostier outside, people’s immune systems seem to be growing weaker and, as it appears, bacteria and viruses are getting peskier. 

  • Examining the MPAA

    As my previous forays into journalism undoubtedly attest, I am something of a cinephile—a movie geek of the first order. I believe that cinema has always been and continues to be a cornerstone of American culture, never ceasing to astound, amaze, illuminate, and educate. Indispensable as an art form, it remains a uniquely powerful medium for the free proliferation of ideas. For this, my final film column of the semester, I thought it would be appropriate to address an institution that threatens to halt this free exchange and marginalize the artists who safeguard it: the MPAA.

  • On food and love

    As I’m casually enjoying a Hillside burger, overcooked to leathery perfection, as usual (for health reasons, due to the alarming number of deaths-by-medium-rare at Boston College), my eardrums are assaulted by what I can only describe as a high-pitched bird call. 

  • Election pensées

    I think all voters can share a collective sigh of relief in knowing that we are finally rid of campaign advertising—at least for now. It has been a wild ride you guys, and this election season was pretty ridiculous if I do say so myself. Personally I always appreciate the entertainment value elections bring to mediums such as SNL, The Daily Show, and The Colbert Report. They make the election much easier to handle knowing we can laugh at the sheer absurdities that occur throughout the season. But this election was a tougher pill to swallow for both parties. Tensions were quite high as the big day approached. Both sides presented inconsistencies in their campaigns that made me feel uneasy about what would happen come Election Day.

  • Thoughts on Sandy

    Hurricane Sandy came and conquered. She shut down parts of New York City and its neighbor New Jersey, blacked out power in thousands of homes, flooded many houses, disrupted the economy, and caused hundreds of casualties and injuries in addition to multiple other negative impacts of her wrath. 

  • Examining rivalries

    Sucks to BU! But most of us liked it when we took the tour. MIT sucks! Unless it’s a boring weekend at Boston College, when their frats are always a good time. Harvard is so pretentious. But if I got accepted that’d be pretty hard to turn down. Whether they are academic or athletic, BC rivalries are strong and well-known. Especially this weekend. “Notre Dame sucks!” “Notre Flame!” All shouted by students wearing t-shirts with the image of an eagle stabbing a leprechaun

  • Memory bank

     

    I made my hangover significantly worse on Sunday morning by logging into my Bank of America account and realizing how much money I spent this past weekend. Looking at the receipts littered all over the car floor, it became clear that my friends and I treated our trip to UMass as if we were drunken sailors landing in an exotic port. Between food, beer, gas, beer, coffee, and beer, we ran up quite the tab. But it made me realize a notable trend of spending throughout my past two years of college: fewer and fewer of the things I buy are actually things. Instead I’ve found myself doling out cash for experiences. 

  • Aftermath of Sandy

    By late Tuesday, Oct. 30, the winds and flooding caused by Hurricane Sandy had subsided, leaving at least 50 people dead along the Atlantic Coast, several homes destroyed by flooding and fires, and ruptured beachfronts and boardwalks from the mid-Atlantic states to southern New England. With an unprecedented blow to the U.S. Northeast’s power grid, millions of people lost electricity, some as far away as Michigan. Public transportation was halted, vehicles submerged, and garages flooded. The hurricane winds toppled light posts and trees, blocking roadways and inflicting damage as they fell onto cars, homes, and businesses. After surveying the widespread damage, it is clear much of the recovery and rebuilding set to take place will take several months at least. The damage and pain inflicted by Sandy, reported to be the biggest Atlantic storm in history, continues to unfold, especially on the coast as families return to their shore town homes, only to find themselves amidst widespread, irreparable damage. 

  • Remembering Rac

    This column isn’t going to be light reading. It’s going to affect you. It’s not just going to make you think—it’s going to make you feel. And that’s because grief cannot be wholly rationalized. Grief is not a matter of intellect. It’s visceral. Grief has gravity, and while it fluctuates in intensity, you are forever bound by its orbit. Grief is not always sorrow and it’s not always pain, but it is the burden you must willingly carry for lives that you and our world have lost. Grief is a badge, and it’s inextricably human. It’s our condition, and it’s our duty. 

    1 comment

  • The self-esteem exodus

     

    Danielle’s story is not unique. According to a recent survey done by BC faculty, women come into BC with more confidence than they have when they leave. Men, my English professor told me, had opposite results. “I’m wondering,” she asked our Studies in Poetry class, “how much of it is cultural, how much of it is BC, and how much of it is inevitable?”
    Her question left the class in silence as we pondered a problem much of us did not realize existed. The topic came with the implicit question as to whether BC men were deflating women’s self-esteem, but you could hardly attribute such statistics solely to the likes of Steve the Womanizer.

  • Dress creatively

    This weekend at Boston College marked the kick-off of Halloweek, and with it the launch of a thousand scantily clad fill-in-the-blanks running around campus, the Mods, and Cleveland Circle. Nothing against provocative Halloween costumes, I get it, I’ve done it. I’m not going to go off on some feminist rant, but last night I saw a girl dressed as a trashy cow and it was pretty much the tipping point for me. Growing up with what I’ll refer to as the “Mean Girls Generation,” I understand Cady Heron’s adage about Halloween “being the one night a year when a girl can dress like a total slut and no other girls can say anything about it,” but I’m not sure I completely agree with it. Let’s be honest here—girls dress trashy regardless of it being Halloween or not, and other girls don’t really say much about it. I want to know why more girls don’t use Halloween as an excuse to dress up like crazy people because it’s the only night of the year when no one can say anything about it, right? Frankly, I don’t understand why more people in general don’t use Halloween as an excuse to get creative and run around dressed like kooks, and that means you too boys, you’re not off the hook either. Store-bought costumes that, ahem, frame certain male-specific body parts to look like animals, food, magic lamps, or what have you, are just as much of a cop-out as my going out in a shiny latex sailor “dress” and stripper heels.

  • Hypersensitive Halloween

    With one weekend down and one weekend to go, we currently stand in the middle of the Hallo-Weekends. Each night in preparation for the wild events to follow, there comes a time for decision: what to wear? Now, before you read any further, I ask those who are easily offended to put this paper down (or maybe flip to the Sports section) because I am going to be offensive. 

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  • The art of consolation

     

    When we are emotionally disrupted, we turn to our friends and the people we love in order to reconcile our pain with the empathy of others. Despite the fact that there is a certain disparity between the way men and women respectively approach the art of consolation, we are all alike in a profound way that speaks to our condition as human beings: no one ever wants to feel like a helpless bunny.

  • Checks, change, and life

    I don’t know if I can start this one out with the catch-all, “We’ve all had that moment where…” because, I think, more and more people are going without having ever written a check. Those peculiar little rectangles which have your bank’s name on it, your account number and which you have to sign at the cash register … with a pen … that has ink in it. Not some new-fangled electronic machine where you swipe a piece of plastic and tap a few buttons and—vamoose—you’re out of there with a new sports coat and a $100 fewer in your bank account (“no green seen,” as I just started saying, after I thought of that just now). 

  • Shopaholic confessions

    My name is Bernadette, and I’m a shopaholic. I know a lot of girls claim to be shopaholics, but in my case it’s pretty extreme. The thing that sets myself apart from others is that while most suffer from the quintessential “clothing and accessories exclusive” type of shopaholism, I can walk into any and every store and find something to buy, which I claim is necessary when it is actually completely useless. 

  • You only loop once

     

    If you saw Rian Johnson’s modern masterwork Looper when it debuted in theaters earlier this month, chances are you’re still thinking about it—and how could you not? The film does to the science fiction thriller what Christopher Nolan did to the superhero movie: elevates it to a state of cerebral, uncompromising art. And that’s just the cinematography. 
     
    Indeed, I could easily fill this column with praise for Johnson’s exemplary camera-work, pacing, and first-rate cast—Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Bruce Willis positively shine in their starring roles—but I would be doing you, the reader, a deep injustice if I did not dedicate this article to the film’s crowning jewels: its concept, its plot, and, most important, its philosophical agenda. If you have not already seen Looper, block off two hours of time this weekend and get yourself down to Fenway; Save this article for the T-ride back because spoilers are sure to follow.

  • Methadone clinics for iPhone users

    I’m going through withdrawal and have been for a few days now. I’m not exaggerating, either, which is a conclusion most of you will draw once I tell you what it is I’m in withdrawal from. Inside my body, there’s a noticeable tension that’s not usually there. Deep in my esophagus, somewhere near my stomach, there is this constant feeling of not pain, but a sort of palpable longing. Vaguely, it’s nausea, but it’s also a non-thinking bodily awareness of a nameless absence. My arm is twitching. I notice the twitch as I restrain my right hand from involuntarily reaching down to my right pocket —where my iPhone usually is—for, like, the 20th time today.

  • How are you two going to make it work?

     

    When preparing to go abroad for the semester, and still even now that I’m in Europe, my friends and acquaintances repeatedly pose to me the question, “What are you two going to do?” 
     
    What are we going to do about what? I have always wondered what exactly makes college students think that going abroad is a dead-end for relationships, that staying together is simply implausible

  • Freedom makes you fat

    September has come and passed.  (I will spare all of you and not quote Green Day). I’m upset about this passing because September is my favorite month of the year. For me, it is a month of change. I begin a new school year and I age one year on the 23rd. Last year, September marked a change that I had been looking forward to since middle school: I started college. I fled the nest and abandoned my suburban New Jersey home, my weird friends, my overprotective parents, and everything I’d ever known to begin the best four years of my life. 

  • A video games destroying literature?

    We’ve all heard how the bangs, flashes, blood, guts, etc.—the sensory stuff—of video games are purportedly shrinking the attention spans and increasing violent tendencies of the world’s youth. That’s old hat to us children of the 2000s. I will debate until I’m very old and no longer have an attention span that video games do not shrink the attention spans of young people, but I cannot deny that our generation loves this type of chest-thumping, sensory-overload entertainment. Just look at the best-selling Xbox 360 games of all time – Kinect Adventures, Call of Duty: Black Ops, Halo 3, Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2, Gears of War.

  • Winter is coming

    It’s starting to get cold outside, and I’m reminded that one of the big reasons why I decided to leave Puerto Rico and come to the States for college was that I wanted to experience life with the vagaries of seasonal changes. In Puerto Rico, it’s always summer. Always. Coming from a land of eternal summers, I thought that seasonal changes and colder weather just meant that I would get to wear cute scarves and boots, beanie hats and trench coats, and that everything would be new, beautiful, and fabulous. I was in way over my head, and about to become the victim of a billion seasonal faux pas like wearing Uggs in 60-degree weather to complaining about how “freezing” I was as soon as the temperature dropped down to the 50s.

  • The forgotten virtue

    It’s been a consistent slogan throughout the campaign season coming out of the Republican camp: “Are you better off now than you were four years ago?” What’s followed has been both sides throwing out ambiguous and sometimes misleading figures assessing various sectors of the economy that have improved or worsened over the course of the Obama presidency in even the most marginal of ways. What is consistently ignored, however, is the fact that it can take years for good, sound, effective policies to manifest themselves into successful economic progress. 

  • TWC makes every film that is good

    Besides Elaine from Seinfeld, everyone loved the film The English Patient. It swept the Academy Awards in 1996, winning nine of its 12 nominations, and a plethora of others at the BAFTA Awards and Golden Globes. But the Best Picture win was a first for Miramax, a production company started 10 years before by Bob and Harvey Weinstein. It would be the first of many successful enterprises the two brothers would get their hands on, and would eventually lead them to start The Weinstein Company (TWC). Today, if I see a movie and walk out satisfied with giving away two hours to a dark bunker in the middle of the city, I can bet they had something to do with it.

  • What not to do while abroad

    Currently enrolled in the Parma program, I have had the privilege thus far of exploring the beautiful city of Florence, Italy. The genuine leather, or vera pelle, the countless churches such as the Duomo and Santa Croce, the tiny cars (Fiats abound), the delicious food and gelato … I could go on and on. This historic, picturesque city has so much to offer! But, as much as I would love to say everything has been magical and life-changing, I’d be lying to you. While the majority of my trip so far has been a wonderful experience, I’ve run into a few setbacks while traveling abroad. So have my peers. I’ve learned a lot in just the past week about what not to do when traveling abroad—a lot that I wish someone had warned me ahead of time. To hopefully spare those planning to go abroad a load of stress and nail biting, here’s some advice: 

  • Neurotic networkers

    The one phrase heard around the Heights more than “all I want is some Chobani” may be the infamous and impersonal false promise of “let’s catch up sometime!” Networking at Boston College is an art, a legitimate major, and an arduous skill that must be mastered. It can be seen in the way clubs solicit members, retreat groups plead for meal plan money, and how seniors grovel at the career fairs. With freshman CSOMers already making personalized business cards (which, mind you, simply say “John Smith, Boston College Student”), it’s hard not to feel as though you need to be throwing your own name, in some form or fashion, at everyone who walks by. What if that’s your future boss, or the person who will land you that life-changing internship at Deloitte? Honestly, I hope you have your running shoes on, because it’ll take all you’ve got to restrain your urges to chase them down.

  • Outside the comfort zone

    I need a new pair of shoes. You see, a chunk of my shoe’s sole was missing. Somewhere between waiting in line at the Royale nightclub in Boston, entrenched in a crowd of black shirts, pants, and hair (ranging from long and straight, to shark-fin Mohawk, to buzz-cut), tattered Converse sneakers and the pervasive nose ring or ear gauge, and sitting in my dorm, soaked through with sweat—most of which was probably not mine—I had lost a chunk of my right shoe. So went my first punk concert. 

  • Scoring the cinematic

    Imagine a crowded airplane. You weren’t fortunate enough for a window seat, so here you are, squished helplessly between what’s-her-name and what’s-his-face, just trying to pass the time. After enduring the shrieking cries of a despondent toddler for as long as you possibly can, you stuff in your headphones, pull out your laptop, and pop in, say, Pixar’s Up, hoping to drown your traveling sorrows in the sugary goodness that only Disney can provide.

  • A sweet morsel for your conscience

     

    This phrase, adapted from Herman Melville’s Bartleby the Scrivener, is to the rest of the book as tailgating is to actually going to the football games—i.e., this one bit is brilliant, but the rest of the ordeal is about as exciting as whatever was being lectured to you this morning while you drew penises all over your friend’s notebook. Lucky for you, that’s about the only thing this piece has in common with Moby Dick (pun not initially intended, but obviously had to stay). The original title of this piece was “A sweet taste of Martin Heidegger,” and with the help of my roommate’s constructive criticism, “That sounds so [expletive] boring I’d rather [expletive] myself in the [expletive] with a chainsaw,”—thanks for the honesty—I managed to retain the essence of the title, AND make a great literary reference. 
    That’s what you call skinning two rabbits with one butter knife.

  • Life and education

     

    It’s not even October yet, but I’m already overwhelmed. Whether it’s the pile of reading I need to get done, the number of papers I need to magically write, or the upcoming midterm exams I need to stress over, I dream of the arrival of Columbus Day weekend. As most students on campus, I’m already ready for a break from school and all the anxiety it carries. 

  • The virtues of a sin city

    I dream of one day living in a world where I can open the phonebook and look up a prostitute under “P,” not hidden under escort services and strip clubs. I dream of a world where I can go to my neighborhood drug store and buy some drugs of the non-medicinal variety.

  • Psychological Warfare

    On my way to work each day this summer, I hopped off the T at Government Center and walked by the New England Center for Homeless Veterans on Court Street. At all hours of the day, there was a large group of veterans congregated outside. Some looked for conversation, others looked for change, but almost all looked confused and downtrodden. Most of the men I saw had fought in the Vietnam War, and others were more recent participants in the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. What was most striking about their disheveled appearances was the distraught look on their faces. It was obvious that a plethora of these individuals were suffering through the same consequence of war together: Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD.)

  • What not to do while abroad

    Currently enrolled in the Parma program, I have had the privilege thus far of exploring the beautiful city of Florence, Italy. The genuine leather, or vera pelle, the countless churches such as the Duomo and Santa Croce, the tiny cars (Fiats abound), the delicious food and gelato … I could go on and on. This historic, picturesque city has so much to offer! But, as much as I would love to say everything has been magical and life-changing, I’d be lying to you. While the majority of my trip so far has been a wonderful experience, I’ve run into a few setbacks while traveling abroad. So have my peers. I’ve learned a lot in just the past week about what not to do when traveling abroad—a lot that I wish someone had warned me ahead of time. To hopefully spare those planning to go abroad a load of stress and nail biting, here’s some advice: 

  • The living earth

    She dances in real-time rhythm, just like every other planet, as gravity calls the tune. More so, she greets the tune with an ingenious elegance that every mother who supports intelligent life radiates. She hosts the pretty roses of the field, among other bright flowers with comely petals, just to refer to a few of the gorgeous ornaments that graciously carpet our verdant fields and forests. Yet, the unspoken criticism from the same intelligent life she had supported over millennia baffles me. 

  • Oh my god I'm stuck in my iPhone

     

    Me and my big-dawg homies are in a smoke stained car, and the floor mats are littered with garbage. There are four of us, and the three of them are wearing sunglasses because it’s Sunday morning (1 p.m.) and we are, for lack of a more inventive term, beat-to-sh—t  hungover. We’re en route to a Tex-Mex restaurant on Cambridge Street in Brighton for “brunch,” the name of which escapes me because the place has no sign above its door. 
     

  • Welcome Week fail

    A lot of freshmen are struggling with the daily responsibilities of an independent, boarding life. It’s not uncommon to walk into a laundry room to find a fellow frosh quietly wondering to himself where he needs to insert the detergent his mom bought him. Nor is it unheard of to be told stories of Upper students who try to take a late bus to Comm. Ave. only to realize that they just got off on Newton … on the last bus. Or to hear stories of groups of freshmen boys who confidently wander into the Mods only to get kicked out and to realize that they are at the bottom of the college food chain. Any upperclassmen reading this may label freshmen as “noobs,” but I’m sure that they, too, can recall the time that they got lost in the depths of McElroy in a failed attempt to find the mailroom. 

  • Consider the tequila

    San Miguel de Allende is a vacation spot utterly unlike its lurid, internationally-recognized as Dionysian Spring Break destination and compatriot city, Cancun. Whether or not this is a good thing is entirely up to you, the trip-goer, which is pretty much a euphemism for saying that if your tolerance for bullsh—tier tourist attractions and even bullsh—tier tourists is very high, then Cancun, and probably not San Miguel, is your place. If it is, I sincerely wish you well on your travels through a city my mother dubbed “hell,” a moniker that I, even as a puerile and hormonal boy of 15, begrudgingly had to agree with despite what I had been told about its bikini-to-not-bikini ratio. Because, and maybe this is just an Olcott family “thing,” I’ve always seen vacations as a time to do something else, be somewhere else, generally just experience and explore what else is or could be. And that’s not what Cancun is. Cancun is a frat party, Las Vegas, and South Beach rolled up into something like a gigantic chuck beef patty thrown into a microwave (Cancun is hot and bombards you with potentially harmful electromagnetic wave-particles, too) because it’s Friday night and you’re feeling lazy after a strenuous week of exhaustingly boring work … all in Mexico. That is to say, it’s a hyperbolized microcosm of all the vices of American culture placed in a lawfully laxer country because we probably couldn’t get away with what we do there if it was in the US of A. 

  • Social media: Your annoying, clingy boyfriend

    “My name is Alexia LaFata, and I have been using for nine years” is something I imagine I’d say if I were to enroll in a rehab-esque group for people addicted to social media. And when I say “using,” I mean I have been instant messaging and social networking since I was nine years old. 

  • On dressing the part

     

    During summer, I received an email about an amazing opportunity to write for The Heights—something I had always wanted to try, but had never gotten around to doing. I sent my writing sample, not because I had any real expectation that I would get it, but more so because of my new life motto that “you always regret more the things you don’t do than the ones you do.” What the heck, right? Well, now you’re reading my very first column, and still, I can hardly believe it.

  • Tarantino: Putting a cap on it

    When you can look back on the kind of filmography that renowned do-it-his-own-way filmmaker Quentin Tarantino can, you might start asking yourself where to go next. Have I written and directed my own scripts with my own production company? Yes. Have I established a personal style recognized by my last name with the suffix “esque” tagged on the end? Yes. Is every actor in Hollywood dying to work on my films in order to act out dialogue that is almost guaranteed to make them look brilliant on screen? Yes. And have I, as Orson Welles hoped to do, left the craft in which I am working better for having done what I did? Yes, arguably. 

  • Reflecting on Aurora

     

    When James Holmes went on a violent shooting spree in a movie theater in Aurora, Colo. two months ago, killing 12 people and injuring 58, the national media swooped in with the same irresponsible news coverage it always indulges in with these kinds of horrific acts of violence, and, as always, we let it off the hook. Incessant loops of the shooter’s background, inquiries into his mental history, and interviews with people who knew both the shooter and victims—the list goes on. While this is to be expected from today’s 24-hour news cycle that stands to profit off of every shot of a crying mother or suspect’s courtroom appearance, what should infuriate Americans is the question repeatedly posed by media outlets from the local news to Sunday morning talk shows. “Will this latest episode of gun violence ignite a debate about gun control policy in America?” 

  • Unpaid interns

    As I returned to Boston College this fall as a senior, I have found myself, like many, discussing my summer, and the conversations I have with my friends inevitably turn to the myriad of unpaid internships we took to bolster our resumes, and get “a foot in the door” of the working world. From banks to news and radio stations, in both creative and more conventional fields, thousands of students, as well as the newly graduated, do unpaid work every year, with most never thinking twice about what this means to themselves and the job market. A quick poll of my friends found that 90 percent of them had at one point taken on an unpaid internship, whether during the school year or during the summer, and many had worked two or three in the course of their college career. An obvious catch-22, most don’t see an alternative. We do work for free so that we might land a paying job in the future.

  • One of those people

    I am one of those people. I always remember, and often get hung up on, the little things: habits (I bite my nails to where they look like they’ve been through a shredder); pet peeves (you want all the pictures in your house straightened? Invite me over for dinner); or so-called fun facts (In 1783, a sheep, a duck, and a rooster accompanied the pilot of the first hot air balloon flight, my friends). 

  • September friends

    When the leaves begin to turn our favorite colors (maroon and gold, of course) and we arrive back on campus to the sights of freshmen feverishly scampering to find buildings such as Fulton or Lyons, upperclassmen often begin a time of reflection, a reminiscence upon the one, two, or three years they have spent under Gasson’s all-too-well-lit tower. Remember how it felt to leave our dog for the first time, his puppy-dog face staring longingly out the window as our crammed SUV pulled away? Recall waiting in the hour long-line to get our books with the heat of our parents’ breath hissing at us, “Didn’t you pre-order these?!” Recollect the time we first discovered TransLoc, Coolidge Corner, or the use of a fake ID?

  • Squirrels dodging land mines

     

    “Set the world aflame! The world is your oyster! Expand your horizons!” 
     
    Although some of us here at Boston College have taken these words to heart and truly felt their meaning, most of us have felt something more like an urge to maim or gravely injure the individual whose mouth one of those lines came out of.

  • Social responsibility

    Thanks to the generous four-month summer that Boston College provides us, I had some time to catch up on some leisure reading. I went a little over the top and read basically every book written by the English entrepreneur Richard Branson. They were all incredible and I highly recommend each and every one of them, but Screw Business as Usual should be a required text for (at least) everyone in CSOM. We try to teach business ethics at BC via the Portico program, but this book reflects the principles of business ethics better than any Portico class.     

  • Batman goes nuclear

    Since the early 1940s, generations of filmgoers and comic book fans alike have been fascinated by the fantastic gadgetry and impossible tech wielded by billionaire-turned-vigilante Bruce Wayne. Although the character’s mythos—and indeed his crime-fighting tools—descended into campiness and absurdity during the 1960s, courtesy of Adam West, the last two decades have seen a return to serious Batman storytelling and real-world influence, courtesy of visionary (soon to be legendary) filmmaker Christopher Nolan.

  • A league of their own

     

    It’s that time of year again, when millions of people sit down at their computers and decide which 15 grown men they are going to adopt into their lives for the next few months. 
    For many, the choices they make in their fantasy football draft will dictate their drastic mood swings, from elation to depression, over the course of the fall. We will worship backups with breakout weeks, yet curse them just as fast when they fumble the ball or throw an interception. Some players will become immortal and revered, others despised for years to come because of their underperformance in one key week. 

  • The point of college

    As the year comes to a close, everyone wonders for the seniors if Boston College really prepared them for the real world. Are the graduates set with jobs and the life skills to flourish in post-collegiate life?

  • [This is the Headline for my Senior Swan Song]

    [This is the opening paragraph. Introduction of the forthcoming cliche. Acknowledgment that articles like these inevitably inundate college newspapers at this time each year. Accompanying admission that everything that can be said has already been said.]

  • The hands in corruption

    It comes as no surprise that in this day and age, latest trends of fashion, music, and developing lifestyles have captivated the attention of teenagers who are looking to “fit in” or grow up faster. But it certainly is surprising the novel ways in which these individuals pursue this desire to age. I recently read this article about teenagers using hand sanitizer to get drunk. My initial response was something along the lines of “Are you serious?” coupled with the thought of how pathetic it is the way society has evolved

  • Farewell, BC

     

    My last Heights column. It’s a last in a string of lasts that have passed and are still forthcoming now that graduation is less than a month away. In the past four years, I have spent a lot of time wishing for the last of things—tuition bills, exams, classes—and now my wish is being granted. Yet it’s hardly as liberating as I had imagined. Of course, a large part of that is due to the unemployment that seems to await me, but it’s more than that. In four years, Boston College has become a second home—a familiar and comfortable place where I’ve done a lot of growing up. So as I think about leaving this place, I’d like to share some of my experiences in the hopes that someone, maybe even me, will learn from them.

  • Everything important I learned from Harry Potter

     

    As graduation approaches, I’ve become increasingly aware of my “lasts.” They’ve hovered in the background for the past eight months, haunting my senior year. At first, it was just the big events—the campus-wide occurrences that can’t help but bring a sense of closure in their final permutations: my last housing disappointment, my last football game, my last course registration, my last Marathon Monday. Lately, though, the smaller, everyday occurrences are starting to stand out. I had my last midterm a couple of weeks ago. My last paper is due on May 8th. I don’t make it up to the Chocolate Bar very often these days—I could have already enjoyed my last frappe and not even realized it. There was one last, however, that I’d been looking forward to all semester. Over the weekend, I finished the last book that I will ever read for college: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

  • Thoughts from the Hasselbecks

    Last Saturday afternoon, the Winston Center sponsored the Brennan Symposium for student leadership for the fifth year. This year featured Boston College graduates Matt and Sarah Hasselback, who have more than earned the right to be the facilitators at such an event. I had the opportunity to attend a pre-symposium luncheon, led by Matt and Sarah, along with CSOM Assistant Dean Richard KeeleyCSOM Senior Lecturer Amy Lacombe, and the Assistant Director of the Winston Center Brooks Barhydt. It was a quite the experience.

  • On the wrong path

    “I just want you to be happy and succeed,” said the Residential Director of Hardey-Cushing to many of her residents on Newton campus. She and the Office of Residential Life attempted to make Hardey-Cushing a better place by putting the Pathways Initiative into effect this year. Unfortunately, the Pathways Initiative has backfired. Students are not happy.

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  • Lessons learned before the last hurrah

    I've stared at a blinking cursor and blank word document, attempting to write some semblance of a coherent opinions column, for what seems like a hundred times since first becoming a member of The Heights freshman year. This will be my last column as a junior, and as I look forward to continuing to write through my senior year, I’m beginning to realize how much I’ve learned about myself, this school, and college life since 2009. This piece doesn’t really have the same format or flow of a traditional column, but I wanted to try to impart some of my (perhaps useless) observations thus far. The sky is the limit for senior year, and these are a few of the lessons that will influence my last hurrah at Boston College.

  • An open letter to freshman John

     

    Dear Freshman John,
    I know it is not customary to write a letter to your past self. A more common practice is writing a letter to your future self, asking questions about what you’re up to, new hobbies, that sort of business. But this is different. This is a letter to past John. Things that I wish you knew as a freshman or that you could tell your freshman friends. The following is a list of rules you should try to remember. Post them above your bed. Memorize them. Have your roommate give you pop quizzes on them. Never forget them.

  • On requirements and registration

    You open a computer program that looks like it would be running on a machine in Bill Gates’ basement when he was 14. Either that, or you think that you should be down in the hatch from Lost, typing in the numbers that prevent the world from exploding, on the computer screen built in the ’80s. If you haven’t watched Lost, the main point of that comparison was “built in the ’80s” (and that you should watch Lost). We’re not off to a promising start.

  • Return to Neverland

    A professor in my communication class asked a student what he’d do if he made billions, and he stood there completely bewildered and shot back a “whatcha talking bout Willis” gaze as he ummed and ahhed for a painful 20 seconds. While I thought the question was an easy one, he still struggled. 

  • The Casino's Coming

     

    As a native Cincinnatian, I often cannot help but to make fun of Cleveland. This is a habit I had to repress when I led an Appalachia trip to the city. Quips about Brady Quinn and burning rivers were muted for the sake of a sober examination of the Rust Belt brand of economic distress that has, perhaps unfairly, become the reputation of the former sixth-largest city in the United States.

  • A Third Dimension for Titanic

    3D is Hollywood’s latest cash cow—the industry is revamping old favorites with a few technical adjustments, charging moviegoers $15 to $18 for the privilege of putting on plastic, tinted glasses to watch them, and expending absolutely nil for creative screenwriting or casting to make it all happen. For new movies shot using 3D technology, there’s a sense that a lot can be done to enhance the theater experience. But what about our favorite movies of the ’90s and beyond? The industry is betting it can draw people for nostalgia’s sake, showing favorite classics on the big screen without really offering much in the way of digital enhancements. And it’s betting correctly. 

  • Kids and cupcakes

    I remember when I was younger, my parents would always hide all the chocolates and sugary candy to make sure I didn’t get my hands on them. For them, feeding my sweet craving meant harming my teeth or falling into an unhealthy lifestyle later in life. However, I also recollect the times where I was compensated with a cookie or cupcake for behaving or earning a 100 on a test. Similar to other children, I learned early that sweets and desserts were rewards for doing a good job, and lack of them was for my own good. What it really meant, as I later understood, was that my parents were acting a certain way only to influence me to make healthy eating and dietary decisions when I grew up.

  • Turning tragedy into a circus

     

     On Feb. 26, George Zimmerman shot and killed Trayvon Martin. The police know this—Zimmerman himself told them. Yet Zimmerman has not been charged with a crime. 
    Why? Why is it that the killer of an unarmed teenager is free? 

  • Reading Race

      Like pretty much everyone else in the world, I saw The Hunger Games a couple of weeks ago. I liked it. I’m a fan of the books, and I thought the movie did a decent—if not safe—job of adapting things to the big screen. The casting was spot on, too. Woody Harrelson, Lenny Kravitz, and Jennifer Lawrence all knocked it out of the park.

  • That's Really Deep, Man

      James Cameron, director of award- winning films Titanic and Avatar, recently completed a journey to Earth’s deepest point. The Hollywood icon dove nearly seven miles off the coast of Guam, operating a specially designed submarine, to film an area known as the Mariana Trench.

  • Rethinking Graduation

    Last Wednesday, I received an e-mail from the Office of Commencement with e-invitations to invite family and friends to my upcoming graduation ceremony. This Monday, I made a decision regarding my first official post-graduation job offer. And today, I write my last column for The Heights.

  • An open letter to the gentlemen downstairs

    Hello, sirs. Pardon me for a second. I hate to bother you, but I just thought I should bring something up with you guys. Well, you know that music you continually play? Well, I think you’re playing it a little bit too loudly.

  • Jump shots and job hunts

    For me, March has always been a time for college basketball. I entered my first NCAA pool through my dad’s work when I was seven or eight. A couple of years later, I won for the first time. I put the money toward a skateboard. Since then, I’ve managed two more wins. This surprises me. I enjoy watching basketball, I have a familiarity with the better players on my favorite teams, but I lack the obsessive knowledge that some of my more informed peers possess. I couldn’t tell you who the best player in the league is, what team is the runaway favorite, or how the infallible judgment of the selection committee screwed a deserving squad out of a good seed.

  • What You Might Be Thinking

    My life is so hard. Seriously. The hardest. I have the hardest of lives. My life is filled with challenges. Hard challenges. 

  • Show support for BC sports

    I love sports. No, scratch that, I am crazy about sports. Sometimes I wonder how much more actually useful information I could fit into my head if I emptied out all the superfluous sports statistics and trivia I keep up there. Whenever such a thought creeps into my mind, my immediate reaction is to think how stupid that would be. Of course I need to know that Baylor quarterback Robert Griffin III ran a 4.41-second 40-yard dash at this year's NFL combine, making him the fastest quarterback in this year's draft class. And yes, it is absolutely necessary that I know that Texas Ranger outfielder Josh Hamilton has blue eyes and that may or may not be the reason why he's not very good at hitting home runs during the day. 

  • Student unification when things get serious

    I could easily have been a student somewhere else. When deciding where to spend my undergraduate years, I was close to being a Hoya, almost a Fighting Irish, but in the end, decided to become an Eagle. Because it was such a close decision, I'm assuming I have much in common with Georgetown and Notre Dame students. We have similar goals, appreciate similar locations, and are at comparable levels of intelligence. On paper, I would fit in as well with them as I do with the students at Boston College. However, despite the facts, I don't care about, connect with, or have concern for students at those schools like I do for BC students. It doesn't make much sense, but it's part of what makes the college system great.

  • Growing Pains

    Growing pains, you may ask? And no, this isn't a chicken soup for the soul-themed column or a brief preach on tough times, but rather a deeper focus on what many students inevitably face during their time here.

  • The lasting connection of service trips

    This summer, I am going on a service trip to Jamaica. I will spend 10 days of the beginning of vacation teaching kids at a primary school, volunteer at a nursing home, serving the community, and supporting the disabled. I, alongside a group of 15 peers, will serve as examples of hope and optimism to people who have seen extended amounts of pain, suffering, and poverty.

  • Live and let tweet

    On Sunday night as I eagerly tuned into my favorite television show, The Good Wife (if you share my love of politics, the law, and love triangles, do watch), I noticed "#GoodWife" in the corner of the screen. As an avid user of Twitter, I instantly recognized this as the official hashtag for the show, to be used when I inevitably tweeted about something happening during the episode (An aside for those living Twitter-less lives: ahashtag is used to categorize tweets. If you click on a hashtag, all other tweets containing it will appear, enabling the user to see what other people are saying about the topic). Yet I found myself slightly uneasy about CBS's promotion of Twitter usage. In fact, the more Twitter pervades the public conscious, the more I find myself wondering about my own account. 

  • A reflection on housing

    Few college experiences arouse more stress, anxiety, and hurt feelings than the housing selection process. As a senior, I've seen it all.   I've lived in doubles, a single, a suite, and an apartment. I've lived in a haunted dorm, a tiny room, an apartment with an ant problem, and a gorgeous new suite. I've had roommates who were awesome, roommates who drank too much, roommates who were close friends, and roommates who were disagreeable.

Recent Columns

  • Nate Fisher COLUMN: Received Wisdom

    This column is a conversation with Old Nate, a continuation of my first piece about the recent changes made to the Boston College campus and the messages those changes send. Stokes Hall is the most high-profile of these changes. Everyone and his or her mother loves it, with its overwhelming eager-to-please-ness. But hey, this country was founded on the sweeping rejection of received wisdom, so with that in mind, here's another take.

  • Mary Kate Nolan COLUMN: Why Not To Say ‘No’ To Bandit Runners

    After the tragedy at last year's Boston Marathon, the Boston Athletic Association (BAA) and Boston Police Department plan to enforce tighter security restrictions to ensure that an incident of last year's nature does not occur again. While some of the rules are necessary to maintain a safe environment for runners and spectators alike, the BAA announced a new rule that I cannot comprehend—the prohibition of bandit runners from participating in the 118th Boston Marathon.

  • Kimberly Crowley COLUMN: Reflecting On A Slogan

    I remember exactly what I was doing when I found out that something terrible had happened during last year’s Boston Marathon. Since I was studying abroad in Beijing, my situation was a little bit different from the norm. When I returned to the U.S., I was pleased to learn that  the sentiment of support, love, and friendship had been nicely wrapped up in a new mantra—“Boston Strong.” I was proud of Boston and how it had responded. Unfortunately, I can’t say that I have continuously been impressed with or proud of how “Boston Strong” has been used in the year since the incident

  • Emma Vitale Congress And ‘Cards’

    Frank Underwood, of the Netflix hit-series House of Cards, is the kind of politician you hope doesn’t actually exist in the reality. He is ruthless, stopping at nothing—bribery, intimidation tactics, deception, and even murder—to get where he wants and what he wants.

  • Jovani Hernandez A Tale Of Two Immigrants

    In the time it took to write this paragraph, three people have been detained for illegal entry on the border between Mexico and the U.S. Once, two of these people were my parents.

  • Patrick Angiolillo The Art Of Etiquette Today

    The problem of etiquette today is a trite topic in some sense. The older generations chide the younger, and the younger rebel against the older. It’s cliche.

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  • COLUMN: Reaching For A Higher Education

    The alarmingly un-alarming truth is that the U.S. still has some of the highest high school dropout rates among OECD countries despite being one of the most democratic and economically developed, according to The New York Times, which makes the accomplishment of completing an education in the “Land of Opportunity” all the more a testament to personal responsibility.

  • Jaclyn Susskind COLUMN: Rethinking Mental Health In The Armed Forces

    For the third time since 2009, the U.S. has witnessed yet another horrific shooting at a military base. The media is swarming with reports addressing the unfortunately familiar, yet sensitive, topic of gun control in the U.S. At the same time, many target and blame the influence Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) may have had in Lopez’s rampage, and, therefore, they simultaneously question the role PTSD plays in the lives of other war veterans.

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