Hopkins is a diverse university where an incredible mix of cultures, academic interests and personalities coexist and thrive. Here is the section where you can publish your unique thoughts, ideas and perspectives on life at Hopkins and beyond.
Growing up, I watched a lot of Halloween movies. I would usually watch whatever Disney Channel Original Movie was premiering that year, but my favorites were always the cartoons. There was a period of time when Cartoon Network would play the same Scooby-Doo episodes in October year after year, and I always tuned in.
As of Oct. 8, the punk meets synthpop duo Crystal Castles is no more. Vocalist Alice Glass went to social media to declare the end of the band for both professional and personal reasons, stating she hoped people would embrace her material as a solo artist like they did with Crystal Castles. This comes two years after the release of their third album, (III), and definitely puts any plans for a fourth album into a state of purgatory.
As of Oct. 8, the punk meets synthpop duo Crystal Castles is no more. Vocalist Alice Glass went to social media to declare the end of the band for both professional and personal reasons, stating she hoped people would embrace her material as a solo artist like they did with Crystal Castles. This comes two years after the release of their third album, (III), and definitely puts any plans for a fourth album into a state of purgatory.
Alright freshmen, listen up. This plague that’s been going around? That’s gotta stop. I understand that there’s the whole thing about how we’ve all come from different places with different viruses and we’re spreading them around and blah blah science speak.
As an avid globe-trotter, I almost always require a change of scenery. Happiness is the date and time on a plane ticket to somewhere far away. Every new place is intoxicating — but then comes the hangover. I don’t buy silly little fridge magnets; I try to keep the cities bottled as atmospheres, moods and characters for my growing collection. Fancy a sniff?
The issues discussed in the Disorientation Guide are real and require our attention. Reading the work of the anonymous authors, I was proud for the first time to be a part of the Hopkins community. It has never been a secret that “many students... actively volunteer... without critical reflection on the motivation behind their involvement, or the relationship between the organization and the community with which it is involved.”
When and if I ever walk down the aisle, there’s a good chance I won’t be wearing a white dress. If you’re wondering why, let me explain: the color white has everything to do with ideas of purity, virtue and, of course, the big one, virginity.
You haven’t been to Thai Restaurant? It’s the best Thai near campus — or so a fellow food fiend told us. And after that, we heard about Thai Restaurant everywhere — friends picking up takeout, an Instagram post and then another taking over our feeds. Why had no one bothered to clue us in sooner? And the place is Zagat-rated. Upon hearing all of this, and as devoted foodies of Charles Village, we knew it was unacceptable that we hadn’t yet been. We bumped Thai Restaurant to the top of our list, letting it glide VIP-style past places like Birroteca and Parts and Labor that have long been waiting in line.
Before coming to college, I never placed any real value in having keys, because for all intents and purposes, I never needed them. My dad drove my mother, brother and me to school and work and back home everyday, so I never needed the house keys. Then I never needed any of the car keys because I only got so far as getting my permit, and that’s about to expire on my 21st birthday in a few weeks. And finally, I didn’t need keys to my grandparents’ house because by the time I left school, it was late enough that they would be home.
The first time I saw Charlie Chaplin sing nonsensical Italian-French-Spanish opera, I fell in love. True, this moment came only a few weeks ago, in the dark, over air-conditioned space of Hodson 213, but in my heart, Charlie and I have been on intimate terms since the beginning of time itself. Yes, I’m that person, and I have a thing for The Little Tramp.
While the summer often provides us with the biggest commercial hit movies of the year, the fall is when it really starts to get good. 2014 has been a less than memorable year in terms of movies thus far, and it probably isn’t a good sign for the industry when the real life news has been more suspenseful than anything in film. However, not all hope is lost; autumn often plays host to the greatest artistic achievements in film, and this year is shaping up to be no exception.
My past two articles in “My Favorite Things” have been a bit out of order. My first of the semester was about the TV shows I will be starting and continuing this fall. My second was about my summer spent in Baltimore. In keeping with this theme of writing whatever I want in whatever order it comes to me, this article is no different. I write this with a hot tea at my side and in a sweatshirt and sweatpants. It pains me to say that I have accepted the fact that it is fall. Nevertheless, here it is, my eulogy for summer.
It’s hard not to listen to Thom Yorke’s new solo album, Tomorrow’s Modern Boxes, without considering the extent of his long and rather celebrated career, especially with his output as the front man of Radiohead during the ’90’s and early 2000’s. That being said, with his last career highlight being Radiohead’s In Rainbows, released in 2007, Yorke’s recent releases have not matched the level of success of The Bends, OK Computer, or Kid A. King of Limbs, Radiohead’s last release back in 2011, was an eight-track-long disappointment. Besides problems with mixing the album’s instrumentation too low, the further incorporation of their dub and jungle-inspired electronic influences didn’t equate to consistently successful songwriting.
As college students, we are all forced to re-evaluate our lives every time we open our wallet. Unfortunately, the sad reality of our poverty does not coincide with the fashionista lifestyle. Every class we take means 50 to 75 minutes of online shopping. Once my cart hits that beloved $500 mark, I am forced to exit out and spend an inordinate amount of money on Brody coffee. This is where my column is meant to help.
Bonjour, fellow foodies! We are back to food-columning again after a sabbatical year spent in Paris, where we trained our taste buds and refined our palettes. We know you missed us! Now we are back, we are seniors and we refuse to accept that summer is coming to an end.
I often hear people throwing the word “feminist” around. Some people use it as an insult, others use it as a means of high praise, and a whole lot of people just don’t get it. As a self-proclaimed feminist, I’m here to clear the air. The following list should give anyone a good sense of what feminism is, the problems it hopes to address and why any self-respecting good human should want to be a feminist too:
Picture this: it’s a typical Monday morning. You’ve got a 9 a.m. class — still don’t know why you decided that would be a good idea — and you wake up at 8:00. You’ve got plenty of time to get dressed and eat breakfast, but do you have enough time to bus your dishes?
It’s strange to think it was only freshman year of college when I finally, properly understood academic writing. Structure, message, evidence, etc. “Expository Writing” about Poe and I, haunted by his ghosts, tracing his steps all the way to graveyard, nodding to ravens, thinking that not to be stalked, seduced and entrapped by monsters may just mean not living at all.
Let’s take a poll: if I were to ask you the last three movies that you saw in theaters this summer, could you provide an answer? Now, if I were to ask the last three shows that you’ve marathoned on Netflix in the past couple of months, would that be something a little easier to recall? If so, you’re not alone; the aggregate domestic box office total dropped nearly 15 percent between this summer and last summer.
This summer was the first summer I have ever spent in Baltimore. It was also the first summer where I lived by myself away from home. I got a job not too far from campus and lived in my apartment from the previous semester. I had a whirlwind couple of weeks when I went home after an incredibly hard semester, and when I walked into the door of my apartment in Baltimore in early June, I was overcome with the feeling that I was betraying my home by living somewhere else.
