Well, after being bestowed with the MVC(Most-Valued-Cashier) by the Spectator, I felt compelled to return the favor by bestowing awards on my most loyal fans. After all, where would I be without them? So without further ado and without all the fanfare of large scale expensive award ceremonies that drag on for hours on end – I present the awards for 2005.
I know you’ve heard it, or, if not, then you’ve felt it somehow, sweeping through the dorm room hallways, rolling around Café Viv, and whirring past kids on their way to Firestone. There is a buzz in the air, and no, it’s not the bees or the wind that’s making that sound. I’m talking about that time halfway through the semester or so when the course catalog comes out.
“Woodstock incubates the mosquitoes in the garage, which is uninsulated and hot in the summer. It’s recycling day, and he pours allotments of pond water into empty gallon jugs.”
Recently, a friend was telling me how a certain musical artist had entranced him with her talent—until he found out she was very religious and thanks God for her success. My friend considers himself liberal and advocates for the rights of women, racial minorities, and the LGBT community—yet, for him, religion elicits a “bad taste in [his] mouth.”
We tune in, week after week, eagerly waiting for a glimpse into the world that is The O.C. Some of us have enthusiastically handed over the Wednesday 9 p.m. time slot, foregoing The Bachelor for this fresher prime time guilty pleasure.
There are many pressing issues that weigh on the mind of our young student population: the war in Iraq, the upcoming elections, the deaths of Jacques Derrida and Christopher Reeve, beer-but in lieu of all that (except, perhaps, the latter-most) I’d like to talk about something that’s been bothering a burgeoning group of people: the nature of Jacob O. Gold.
You are a brand. The sun-drenched, chrome-filtered frames of your Instagram feed; the captioned albums on your Facebook profile. Your six-word Twitter bio, clever without pretension.