Humbert Humbert is far from a straightforward man, but he did have the decency to commit a straightforward crime. Lolita was a tender young twelve, her suitor perhaps three times that; whatever physical, metaphysical, sexual, magic or aesthetic power she may have wielded over H.H., she was a child and he was a man of immoral actions.
I went up to a girl who was yelling so loudly and excitedly that I thought I was in an episode of America’s Next Top Model right after the model-hopefuls have found out that they’re going to some foreign country, like Africa or Spain. “What’s the commotion?” I asked as we stood in front of Ivy, half expecting her to tell me that we were all going to Bali together.
Last month, most of Princeton’s eating clubs eliminated nudity from their initiations festivities. The club graduate boards, composed largely of aging men, probably dressed in long robes, decided that nudity is not in fact an unalienable right, but rather a nuisance and a liability.
Marked by a certain charged starkness and by an utterly terrifying absurdity, Greenwood’s score to There Will Be Blood is ushered in with trademark twangs and plucks which register as the pulse of the film itself. In “Open Spaces” an … Read More
Two things occurred to me as I watched Wilco perform at the Tower Theater outside of Philly last Saturday: one, Jeff Tweedy is really old. And two, I hate PDA.
“The curling ends of cursive letters reach toward something that is impossible to grasp. The problem is evident on the page: there is always a space between one thing and another.”
One day, not long after competing in the USA Mathematical Olympiad, thirteen-year-old Greg received a letter from a premier New York trading firm moving $8 billion in equities a day. They had noticed his excellent performance at the Olympiad, and wanted the middle school student to keep their name in mind. Included with the letter were a Frisbee and a deck of cards.
