Word: squinting
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This letter is in response to Susannah B. Tobins' article this past Saturday claiming that large lecture classes are fun. Susannah, why you seem to like the idea of being able to squint at your professor from the third balcony of Sanders theater is beyond me. But most importantly you miss the reason lecture classes are so large: the number of core classes is at a 10-year low. This swells the number of students in all the decent core classes to gargantuan sizes. Dean Lewis and others might wonder why our school is number three in the rankings when...
...JOHNATHON SCHAECH, the story of a rock band in 1964. (You were perhaps expecting vampires and crack?) "There was a lack of cynicism," says Hanks of that era. "In 1964, everybody still believed in the carousel of progress." Directing has given Hanks a new appreciation for acting. "If you squint your eyes as an actor, it looks like you're on vacation. You're in a trailer, people bring you food any time you want it and you lollygag your way to work." On the other hand, "directing is the hardest work you could possibly imagine." As for the Orson...
...opportunity for procrastination. Eight friends assault you as soon as you walk through the imposing, mahogany doors, and together you mill around the Commons, indulging in a decision-making process so rare for Harvard students: "Well, should we do pizza today, or 'Tex-Mex?'" You all then pause and squint, trying desperately to decipher the images appearing on the 70-square-foot video-screen to the rear of the space; studying the near traumatizing effect of watching giant images fading out before they ever completely fade in. Mental torment aside, however, the Commons is truly a remarkable place for students...
...began experimenting with brooders," she said after jocks failed her. "Men who wore greasy jeans and shirts of an indeterminate color. Men who smelled of fried cheese and clove cigarettes and carried a dog-eared copy of On the Road in their army-surplus backpack. Men your father would squint at suspiciously. Flaccid, feeble men who sat on sofas at parties, flicking ashes into their beer cans and making snide remarks under their breath. These were my new paramours. I was prepared for the worst...
...celebrates the littleness of atoms. The public, he explains to the woman he loves, simply doesn't comprehend how minuscule the particles truly are. He tells her, "I could put an atom into your hand for every second since the world began, and you would have to squint to see the dot of atoms in your palm." Some men offer their beloved the moon. Kerner offers his a speck in her palm -- a glimpse into the micro-basement of the universe -- and she is enchanted. And the audience...