In this quarantine time I’ve been yearning for some light, entertaining TV to occupy my time. And yet, somehow, I’ve ended up watching mostly holocaust movies. And, it’s been making me think a lot about my religion.
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America grows smaller and smaller everyday. Less and less for the huddled masses. Less and less the home of the brave.
What is the official language of the United States of America? You would think it was English, wouldn’t you?
Amidst the whirlwind of the helicopter crash that killed Kobe Bryant, Gianna Bryant and seven others, a new piece of Bryant’s legacy has emerged: a case of sexually assaulting a 19-year-old woman.
As we walk from class to class listening to podcasts — worrying about Trump, the insurmountable damage he has inflicted on our state, and his next irreversible stunt — Ben Wikler resides on the other side of Capitol strategizing with his staff ways that this nation can defeat the most erratic, unprecedented president in history.
A racism scandal in Madison struck a national chord this week— the New York Times reported on it, CNN reported on it, Cher even offered to help.
The other day I was watching the 80s classic Nine to Five. The movie is about young Lily Tomlin, Jane Fonda and Dolly Parton attempting to overthrow their sexist, slimy boss. The story was all about what it was like to be a working woman in the 80s, and every piece of office equipment in the movie was something I didn’t recognize — the old phones, the Xerox machine, even the coffee maker.
It’s 2019 and we still don’t trust women.
I strive to be a Good Samaritan and member of my community. I try to help out the homeless on the street, recycle and vote. But there is one area in which I definitely miss the mark: my spending habits. And I do not believe I am alone on this. Many of us don’t know what our money really goes to.
I think we all know the feeling. You’re walking to class and minding your own business when you find that you’ve lost your footing, your phone has slipped out of your pocket and is taking your earbuds and ears down with it. Suddenly, you’re facing the sky and praying you didn’t break a bone.
Ever since the introduction of putting cards and candy in your classmates' decorated boxes in second grade, Valentine’s Day has been a stressful holiday for many people. There’s the stress of impressing the person you want to impress, pretending you couldn’t care less about it if you’re single and getting a reservation at the perfect place seven months in advance. I’ve determined that Valentine’s Day is the most stressful of holidays — it’s practically a glorified ACT.
Let’s play a game. Name all the late night TV comedians you can think of in a minute. How many were women? Just one: Samantha Bee (if she even came to mind at all).
For many people, besides perhaps Ebenezer Scrooge and the Grinch, the holidays are the most heavily anticipated time of the year. There have been at least 5 million songs composed about it, in fact. The snow flurries through the air, Christmas cards come in the mail from people you hardly know, matching family snowflake pajamas are donned: The holidays really are the most wonderful time of the year.
So I have some bad news for you: in your life there will always be people that frustrate you. This rude awakening came to me a few weeks ago when I decided that I wanted to start a coat collection for the homeless on State Street and someone on my floor stole the collection bin and everything in it that had been donated.
I will never forget the moment Trump was elected. The disbelief permeated through red and blue districts alike. The fear was palpable in soup kitchens, synagogues and mosques.
Cecil Rosenthal, a victim in the Tree of Life Synagogue shooting, was a member of the organization Best Buddies. Best Buddies matches adults with disabilities with college students and hosts events to help facilitate the friendship between them. Cecil brought his buddy, David, to services and prided himself on being the member of the congregation who had the job of carrying the Torah.
Among the laundry list of millennial hallmarks I can't stand lies the phrase "entitlement," closely followed by Tinder and veganized pastries.