Sanskrit poet: and then he saw their women. They were worthy of the finest things. Pure in mind and noble in spirit, their thoughts were constant focused on their beloveds and their intoxicating beverages.
Overheard in the Ramayana
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One Last Kiwi Summer
“Today I am a disposable torso, a hipbone, a back: drained of your attraction.”
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La La Land: A Retrospective One Decade Later
Revisiting Damien Chazelle’s La La Land as a eulogy for lost dreams of Technicolor.
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Things I’ve Been Meaning to Tell You
When I was five, I stole five dollars from your bedside table, but I felt too guilty to spend it. When we went through the house, I took your favorite wallet and put the five dollars in it. I went to the bank to get pennies because you always had pennies in your wallet. Having…
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The First, and Possibly Last, Cold War Musical: A Review of Chess on Broadway
A candid review of the newest iteration of Chess on Broadway.
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The times, they are a-changin’
Across the country, protests are increasing in intensity and organization. They make for exciting headlines and call out high-ranked leaders. They are loud, large, and difficult to ignore. In the age of new media and increased factionalism, what is the role of protest inside the campus bubble?
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Flawed ways to recognize what remains of home
The extremely specific black-brown spots on bananas, as though painted upon; symbols in smoke; the convenience of exploitation; the mistake of birth. Perhaps the last one is common in all lands. The uncomfortable ease of your childhood bedroom cannot be replicated. An echochamber of extremity—too cold, or too hot, with peeling walls. And the set…
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Lines we cannot cross: Full Design
Pick up a physical copy around campus, or view the full design here!
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Bad Men, Suffering Women, and The Grand Unified Theory of Female Pain
“The more we view certain expressions of gendered being as untrue, the more we reinforce in ourselves and others that there is a ‘true’ way to be a woman or a man, trapping ourselves in the same conservative discourse we claim to abhor.”
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A Bad Habit
“She turned her head and looked up at the thin cracks in the ceiling. Her eyes traced the ruptures above them and Lizzie wondered what it might make it collapse. He turned his head and grabbed her face so her eyes would meet his, touched his nose to hers.”