I’m the type of person who thrives under pressure. In fact, there are a lot of things I just can’t get done unless I’m on a tight deadline or there’s some impending doom looming over my shoulder that requires me to act quickly. I sat down Monday night, for example, to start writing a paper due Wednesday for my sociology class.
If a cartoon — satirical or not — is supposed to make you laugh, why weren’t more people laughing at the sight of this week’s cover of The New Yorker magazine? The magazine hit store shelves Monday and portrays presumptive Democratic presidential nominee Sen.
Drew Robert Winter’s column Consider planet when having kids (SN 7/11) is immensely shortsighted, viewing children in immediate environmental and financial terms without considering the broader picture.
Leadership. I used to roll my eyes when I heard that word, as it usually came from the mouth of an overly-enthusiastic friend who had just read one of thousands of those books on the topic. Motivated by some good intentions of doing better in their job and life, they feel empowered by the self-help books and are more eager in their proselytizing than an Amway salesman.
Kids, kids, kids. They’re everywhere. More than 73.7 million in the United States in 2006. We call children our future, our little bundles of joy. But is our cultural obsession with our own children really helping us as a society?
For all of its intentions to the contrary, the phrase “politically correct” has stirred quite a bit of ill feeling for itself. This is a complex matter with many strong emotions attached to it, and it is certainly too broad to discuss in 700 words, but I would like to set down some general thoughts on this postmodern phenomenon.
Our generation might have some of the most misunderstood fashions. From low-cut jeans to T-shirts displaying our most adored role models and idols, it’s no wonder older people sometimes question our choice of fashion.
It’s ironic that one of the most famous agitator groups on the Web calls itself Anonymous, because a court ruling last week proved once again that there is no such thing as privacy on the Internet.
Like most conversations I have with my younger sister, convincing her to register to vote has been yet another uphill battle.
Noam Chomsky and Condoleezza Rice don’t agree on much. I purchased Chomsky’s “Imperial Ambitions: Conversations on the Post-9/11 World” Monday, along with a copy of Foreign Affairs magazine, in which President Bush’s Secretary of State wrote an essay.
It seems like it’s become sort of an unfortunate trend for girls in their teens to have children before they reach adulthood.
Some of my fondest memories of summers past are the yearly vacations my family always took to Florida right around the end of June and beginning of July. They were great times swimming in the Gulf of Mexico, cooking out on the beach and eating lots of food.
It may feel like a cliché in 2008, but it doesn’t seem without merit to critique the ongoing relationship with the media and those who find themselves influenced by it every day.
Francisco Jose de Goya taught me something about culture. Visiting his exhibit at the Prado Museum in Madrid last week, I perused the work of a man who acknowledged human legitimization of cruelty.
This November, voters in Michigan may accomplish something incredible that the state legislature has been unable to do: lift the harsh restrictions on stem cell research in our state.
A good friend of mine once said in a song, “They say that black leaders can’t reach us,” a strong assertion that would hold some truth for most of my peers.
I’ve learned from many women throughout the years, each of whose struggles and accomplishments have taught me that I can pursue and be anything I desire.
While the 1960s and 1970s were full of political activism, the same cannot be said for the 1990s and 2000s. People complain that our generation is apathetic and politically unmotivated by comparison to our parents. By comparison to the baby boomers, it is true that we are not a politically active generation, however that is not a fair comparison.
To grow up in America is to navigate a world where the line between scam and legitimate business is so blurry, it almost doesn’t exist.
“Mercenaries … are useless and dangerous,” runs a passage in Niccolo Machiavelli’s “The Prince,” “and if one holds his state based on these arms, he will stand neither firm nor safe.” The chapter goes on to seriously caution against the employment of mercenaries, whom the author considers “disunited, ambitious, without discipline,” and liable to change sides at the first opportunity.