Five years ago, my father stopped reading and started watching MSNBC, whose keening pundits now bestow constant background radiation unto our crowded living room.
When, on February 9, the New York Post announced that Miley Cyrus had submitted a short film to the first-ever New York Porn Festival, countless gossip blogs rushed to report on Cyrus’ final descent into vulgarity.
My past several months on Princeton’s campus have been defined by chocolate. During the week leading up to Dean’s Date I may have personally made the C-Store run out of chocolate covered peanuts.
Is Kanye West Jesus, a genius, or just a jackass? The rapper-turned-fashion designer-turned entrepreneur has a singular talent for polarizing popular opinion, which seems incapable of finding any sort of middle ground between idolatry and loathing.
On Friday, February 20, a group of students transformed the Mathey common room into a catwalk for Sankofa, Princeton’s 2nd annual African fashion show that highlights African clothing and many of Princeton’s performing arts groups, such as Black Arts Company: Dance, Ellipses, Hibir, Umqombothi, and more.
This isn’t an interview, but it feels like one. There are exactly 36 questions and I am stuck at the top of the list.
“It can be anyone,” he says. “Really.”
Glory is hard to find. In a world of left swipes and back seat dates, in a world where we derive self importance from the attention our statuses get, where political messages are reduced to 140 characters, it can be easy to get lost in the quay.
My mother and I returned to the Tucson art museum because Rose Cabat’s daughter told us over the phone that the museum was selling Feelies not featured in the retrospective.
