“Although neither of us is particularly loud, I guess you could say I’ve always been a little bit more introverted, a little quieter,” Castro said, describing his relationship with his twin brother, Joaquin. “But Joaquin and I have different ideas about politics and how to serve the people. I felt that I could help more people on a day-to-day basis in the city government. And so,” he finished, a quiet determination in his voice. “Here I am.”
“It’s really big. I mean, it’s like really, really big,” a prospective Princetonian exclaimed. “Like I think my high school could, like, fit into this building. What do they do with all this space?” she queried, twirling her bleached blond hair around a manicured finger. She flounced off to catch a departing Orange Key Tour.
Wijbe nurses a beer and burns through the tenth cigarette of the day, cursing himself for not having the courage to approach the topless Czech girl two beach chairs over. It’s almost noon, and Wijbe is straining to relax at a Turkish resort near Antalya. He mostly succeeds until the evening fireworks boom across the cove and he starts flinching, as if he’s still in war.
When a movement exclusive in membership, religious in orientation, and all comprehensive in its ideological scope attempts to gain the sanction of a secular university community committed to diversity and inclusion, it obviously puts itself into a paradoxical situation. This was the situation the founders of Princeton’s Anscombe Society, a group “dedicated to affirming the importance of the family, marriage, and a proper understanding for the role of sex and sexuality” (their website) faced when they decided to apply in February 2005 for official University recognition as a campus group.
As we all know, for many years the Daily Princetonian has wallowed in a sea somewhere below mediocrity. Whether book reports masquerading as cultural reviews, Captain Obvious news articles pretending to be incisive, or just plain bad writing, we can always count on our favorite daily to drop the ball.