Sometimes I hear from students about hierarchies and inequalities in their campus communities. Duke professors, too, find themselves arrayed along a socio-economic hierarchy that feels significantly more rigid than in years past.
Your advisor urged you to explore intellectually! Expand your mind! Try something new! You saw their lips moving but heard no sound.
The myth that we only work six hours a week (and that we get our summers “off’) is a heinous lie. When do you think we learn the things that we’re teaching you?
These days, I crave the kind of job where I can hammer nails into things; pick heavy boxes up and move them around; run heavy, loud machinery; and come home after eight hours to a cold six-pack and some TV.
In some places, the Word matters. It lives in a tangible physical world where when you speak your truth, you will be exiled; dispossessed; brutally beaten; shot dead on the street ...
There are some terrifying thoughts lurking down there, kind of like when you are out by the creek and flip over a rock and see all the creepy-crawlies underneath. Homicidal urges, illicit desires, feelings of guilt, revenge, or dread, tabooed thoughts about Apocalypse.
I am kind of thinking that bitcoins themselves are a cheap form of fiction, but considerably less interesting than a random short story by a mildly talented writer.
Unlike the majority of this column’s readers, I remember the first Earth Day.
I’ve always craved glory. My dream is to become a meme, or, better, to have someone make a hologram of me performing a duet with someone unspeakably famous. Like Tupac.
Campus is immaculate in a way that is only possible in human places devoid of people.
