I found this curious invitation nestled in a medium-sized cardboard box in Mudd Library. A middle-aged man with a likeness to Frank Zappa had wheeled a cart over with this box and three others just like it into the musty reading room where I was conducting my research after hearing that my grandfather, who graduated in 1937, was a part of this group.
“It was one of those topsy-turvy Wednesday evenings in New York when one feels like they’ve fallen through a manhole and landed in New Amsterdam: when everything feels offputting and unusual in occurrence.”
t’s 4 am and your mind is in Kansas City in 2004 when you made this Geocities webpage in the living room of that house on 91st Street, and you are not crying. Your page is called modernart.html, because not much has changed in the last decade, but you used to put two spaces in between sentences, so things are looking up.
Dear Readers and Non-Readers Alike, Hello! Welcome to the _Nassau Weekly_—almost as readable as _the Starr Report_, if _Starr Report_ jokes are still “in” (and if they’re “not,” then we are much more readable than _the Starr Report_ and we … Read More
Good Night, and Good Luck This film begins, and ends, with Edward R. Murrow making a speech after being given an award at a ceremony in his honor. But instead of accepting the award graciously, he challenges his audience not … Read More
