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(05/02/02 5:00am)
One hundred incoming freshmen from the class of 2006 will be offered the opportunity to participate in a post-orientation program designed to familiarize students with life at Hopkins and build leadership skills, according to Special Assistant to the Director of Student Involvement Dr. Bill Smedick.
(05/02/02 5:00am)
One of the most consistent themes from week to week in the opening paragraphs of this column has been my assertion that one or another aspect of life strikes me as strange. This week will be no exception. This is the last News-Letter of the year, and thus the last appearance of "Placebo Effect" in these pages. It's the last week in a four-year career in which the News-Letter has been a part of my routine almost every week, and for two of those years, "Placebo Effect" has been a frequent, if not always regular, part of that routine. And I have to say. it's been strange. Strange in how fast it's gone: After all, high school seemed to take forever, and that was only four years, too, but this flew by. Strange in how something that could be so stressful can also be so much fun. Strange that I've learned so much doing something for which I received no academic credit.
(04/11/02 5:00am)
While I generally describe the experience of being the leader of the crack staff of the Johns Hopkins News-Letter as an unmitigated joy, it does have certain pitfalls. I manage to avoid most of these through simple disguise: Oddly enough, I seem to be "stealth" enough that most people don't know who I am, and frankly I like it that way. Nonetheless, I still get approached on occasion with requests, and sometimes even complaints. Apparently, people don't always like the work we do. Who knew?
(04/04/02 5:00am)
By way of introduction this week, here are a few words of introduction. I know that's redundant, but I can be redundant if I want to. It's my column. Hell, I can even use the word "redundant" twice in the same sentence if I want to. In any case, as I've mentioned before in these little prefaces, there are times in the journalistic field when one simply can't control all the variables. Between what's assigned, what comes in, what is printable and how much space each section has, there are just some times when you have to make sacrifices, whether it be cutting something you don't want to cut, or putting in some that you'd rather never saw the light of day. Of course, here at the News-Letter, we never take the latter option. It would compromise our principles.
(03/07/02 5:00am)
Dr. Bill Smedick, Special Assistant to the Dean of Student Life and Director of Student Involvement and Leadership Programs, was the recipient of two awards from the National Association for Campus Activities at that organization's national convention in Indianapolis last week.
(03/01/02 5:00am)
Spring comes suddenly to Baltimore, and as Hopkids swarm out of the library and onto the grass, the old Blue Jays take to Homewood Field to wield their sticks in "the little brother of war," that is to say, to play lacrosse.
(03/01/02 5:00am)
Despite my best intentions, I came to lacrosse somewhat by accident. I knew, of course, that it was the sport to watch around these parts, and my roommate and I had made plans to catch the home games, but it was while flipping channels one afternoon that we came across the season-opening Princeton game by chance. Nowadays, it sounds bizarre to describe myself as coming on something like the Princeton game "by chance," but those were different days, and I was young and inexperienced.
(02/28/02 5:00am)
In a vote on Wednesday, Feb. 20 and Thursday, Feb. 21, members of the Class of 2002 elected to have a game room in Levering Hall as their senior gift. The vote was held at Levering Market and the M.S.E. Library on Wednesday and at the senior class event at E-Level on Thursday.
(11/29/01 5:00am)
One of the things that bugs me about The Way Things Are Now is how difficult it's become to be flippant about certain matters. Don't get me wrong: that's hardly the worst thing about the current world situation, but still, as a fairly flippant newspaper columnist, it's still an aspect of things that affects me in a rather profound manner. In this case, it affects the way that I had planned to start my column this week. What I had originally wanted to say at the start was "I feel like a refugee." Now, in other times this could perhaps have been taken as merely a bit of amusing hyperbole describing the sensation of exhaustion and burnout that the work and travel at the end of the fall semester produces. Nowadays, though, I can't really say it with a clear conscience. After all, the traveling that I'm doing is going home to a loving family where they practically beg to feed me and make me comfortable (thanks, Mom). If I were actually a refugee, I would be traveling because my home was destroyed by marauding warlords; and rather than having had a Thanksgiving dinner that couldn't be beat over the weekend, I would probably not have eaten for weeks.
(11/29/01 5:00am)
Senior Charbel Barakat was selected by the officers of the Class of 2002 as the class Gift Chair at a meeting yesterday. According to Barakat, the committee has "two major functions. the first is to select among the suggestions the most feasible but also the most interesting. the second function, which I think is the most important, is to fundraise."
(11/15/01 5:00am)
Welcome, students of Johns Hopkins, to the dawn of the Information Age. Actually, it's less a dawn than the flicker of an almost - dead light bulb which sparks on for a second before burning out. Yes, once again we students have been handed, in typically-Hopkins fashion, an "improvement" that, when all is said and done, actually causes more headaches than it relieves.
(11/08/01 5:00am)
I'm writing this on Election Day, a day which is near and dear to my heart. This pro-electoral feeling is not entirely political: I used to follow politics pretty closely, but my interest in it was always mostly character-driven, which can be hard to maintain in a different milieu. Allow me to elaborate: Manchester, NH is a pretty small place, and we know our public officials fairly well. I even remember a few times where we drove by the mayor's house (he lived down the block from a friend of mine) just to feel that in some small high school way, we were being threatening (he wasn't very popular among the newspaper crowd I ran with). The long and the short of it is that Manchester is a bit like 5th-century (BCE) Athens, in that our version of democracy, while not quite a direct as Solon's, is very participatory and very personal, leading to a real sense of involvement and empowerment with very little effort on the part of the citizen. So the upshot of all this is that I'm not nearly so interested in politics now that I don't live in Manchester any more. Sure, I can still read The Union Leaderon-line, but all that right-wing invective and aldermanic infighting just doesn't come across with as much warmth on a computer screen.
(11/01/01 5:00am)
I'd like to start the column this week by saying that I hope everyone had a very happy Halloween. I myself was at the News-Letter office all night, ensuring that the campus would have its weekly dose of quality journalism, and frankly, the experience of putting the paper together is scary enough for Halloween every single week.
(10/18/01 5:00am)
Probably the greatest thing about Fall Break weekend was the fact that I could stay up Sunday night without fear of Monday-morning repercussions in terms of my class attendance. For some reason, there's actually a pretty good late-night Sunday lineup. Comedy Central shows Dave Attel's Insomniac, which is even more fun over a few beers (for kicks, you could try to keep up with Dave, but the show's only a half-hour, so I'd be leery) and The Critic (only one episode this week thank you, Mr. Stand-up-guy-who's-not-as-funny-as-Jon-Lovitz), and my personal favorite channel, Cartoon Network, shows a whole bunch of really, really weird stuff that they call collectively Adult Swim. How weird, you ask? Well, let's just say that one of the bits is about a meatball, a box of fries and a milkshake that solve mysteries (sort of. they're not very good at it). Weird, but oddly entertaining in a way.
(10/11/01 5:00am)
I think that I'm getting sick. Not that this is a new thing for me at all. Quite the contrary: My college career has been frequently punctuated by bouts of everything from a minor sniffle to a full-on case of a pretty viscous flu. Add to that the occasional allergy flare-up (nothing too serious, just some itchy eyes and a stuffy nose when I run out of Claritin or there's too much of whatever mysterious allergen provokes my responses floating around), and it's more or less safe to say that I use up my fair share of Baltimore's antihistamine supply.
(10/11/01 5:00am)
Few would dispute Mick O'Shea's status as Baltimore's premier Irish bar. Outside, harps and shamrocks adorn the facade, while inside, a large mural of Ireland lurks behind the bar, and various items of Irish memorabilia (including a copy of the 1916 proclamation of the Irish Republic on the occasion of the Easter Rising) are displayed on the walls. If you ever wanted to "Know Your Hurling" (not the activity of times indulged in after visiting a few bars, but rather the Irish sport, similar to field hockey but involving balancing the ball on the end of one's stick and a certain amount of violence), this is the place to be.
(10/11/01 5:00am)
There's just something about the Belvedere. Maybe it's the series of posters announcing it's presence halfway down the block before you even get there, maybe it's the pictures of famous guests in the lobby, or maybe it's that wedding-cake-gothic roof that finishes the whole thing off. Probably, though, it's the fact that it's one of the few buildings I've encountered with not one, but two bars. And that just makes it special.
(10/04/01 5:00am)
Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.
(09/27/01 5:00am)
Picture this: A senior, starting the school year bright-eyed and bushy-tailed (or bleary-eyed and downcast) shows up to school looking forward to the last leg of his or her college career, only to be trapped in a Kafka-esque nightmare of bureaucratic madness and pointless red tape.
(09/20/01 5:00am)
Finally, the work and effort of three years has culminated in that grandest of achievements: I am now a senior. So, to say the least, it confused me a little when, on my first day of class this year, I had to look at a map to find a building. Think of it! On my own campus, the place I've called home, or at least some sort of place of business, after three years, I, the great and mighty senior, was humbled by having to search out one of my classes.