Last Monday night, a sassy redhead wearing cat-eye glasses and glitter-and-fishnet stockings took the stage of McCosh 10 to give a talk about sex. While her appearance foreshadowed a Harper’s Bazaar-esque talk on steamy sex tips, Lauren Winner came to Princeton courtesy of a range of student groups from the Anscombe Society to University Health Services to speak about Real Sex, her recent book about…keep your pants on: chastity. Even stranger, this hired-gun-for-clean-living skirted one key issue: chastity.
Apart from her unique stage presence, Winner’s triumph as a Christian speaker seems to come from the life experiences under her belt: born of a Jewish father and a lapsed Southern Baptist mother, Winner entered Columbia University a practicing Jew from the South. She graduated an “evangelical Episcopalian,” with a pit-stop conversion to Orthodox Judaism along the way. This inspired her first Christian bestseller, Girl Meets God, a memoir about the experience. Winner’s second memoir, Real Sex: The naked truth about chastity, is a semi-academic exposition about abstinence, retelling to Christian audiences her life story as—you guessed it—a skank.
by Kean Tonetti on
JuicyCampus, an anonymous forum devoted to gossip and rumor, has taken off in recent weeks on college campuses across the nation, and represents what is perhaps the final stage of the digitization of student identity. Where before individuals controlled the level of disclosure contained in and the accuracy (or inaccuracy) of their online façades, now anyone may say anything about anyone.
by Rob Madole on
The history of standard time began in the mid-1800s, when train companies in Britain began to adopt a time standard based on the sun position at the Royal Observatory in Greenwich, England, called Greenwich Mean Time (GMT). Before this, every town would have its own time standard.
by Tom Ledford on
Just walk in Micawber Books, now as it phases out its inventory in preparation to close its doors in March, and you will undoubtedly bear witness to a sad scene, not quite of mourning but of definite melancholy, downtrodden emotion. Yes, of course, the friendly staff is still smiling; Bobbie Fishman, a long-time employee, interestedly asks what I need help finding, but there is a somber air looming over the store: the shelves in the used-book section have been disassembled and piled in orderly disarray, the stacks in the new-books section increasingly reveal empty wood as customers continue to remove the books and buy them at heavily discounted prices.
by Max Kenneth on
I love Woody Woo students. Their affability. Their political charm. Their electoral obsession. But I know I’m not – nor ever will be – one of them. I’m a prideful English major, content with my metrics, and my ever-mounting stacks of books. There are overlaps, assuredly, between the literary and the political approaches to life – human psychology and pompous writers come to mind – but sometimes, the gulf is felt. And a lot.
by Nass Editors on
On a clear, warm day in late April, a dusty blue bus bearing the logo “Equality Ride 2006” drove toward the main gates of the United States Military Academy in West Point, New York. Overhead, a cloudless sky arched above the red-gray limestone campus, its Gothic towers perched on stony cliffs high above the Hudson River. Not far from the gates, the bus parked and discharged about 40 protesters in windbreakers or T-shirts.
by Elyse Graham on
When I sat down for the talk I expected the usual political song and dance. The one and only other politician I have met in a personal setting was John Edwards, and all I got from him was a lingering hand after a photo op, a beautiful toothy grin, and a cool breeze from his flappin’ gums. I left the talk just as knowledgeable on John Edwards’ politics as I was before. But Minister Memecan didn’t give the typical American political rigmarole.
by Sarah Williams on