Daisy Chain
On the eighteenth of April, in 1775, Paul Revere, William Dawes and Samuel Prescott rode about ten miles from Boston to Lexington to warn John Hancock and Sam Adams that the British army was on its way to arrest them. Revere was captured outside Lexington and Dawes lost his horse, but Prescott made it on to Concord to alert the keepers of a stash of munitions (which the Redcoats were also hoping to seize). The American Revolution began at five a.m. the next morning when 70 Massachusetts militiamen exchanged shots with 250 British regulars on Lexington Green.
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How not to boil water
As I walked out of my Off-Campus Study health and safety talk last week I felt at least reasonably secure about the future. After all, London isn’t a place where one is likely to contract malaria, and is conveniently populated with people who speak the same language as I do. I figured that I would be fine as long as I reported all health problems, like my severe allergy to calculus, alarm clocks, and people who insist on either “correcting” the manner in which my last name is spelled or referring to me as “Emily Zydeco.” I had it all under control. I would be fine.
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Expeditions of a timely man
“Always let your audience know where you’re coming from,” my creative writing teacher in middle school told me. “Get your biases on the table, and they’re more likely to trust what you have to say.” Good advice, I’ve always thought. At the moment, I’ve got an intended audience and even an ulterior motive. I’ll be frank. (“No you’re not, you’re Jeff,” says the peanut gallery. Then we all groan at the terrible pun, and I go ahead.)
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The beautiful and the grotesque
Tony Pham asks, “Will Grinnell College ever have an attractive student body (other than the precious few “beautiful people” currently in attendance such as John Chavez and myself)?”
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I know what you’re doing next summer
Don’t ask me about what I’m doing after graduation. I don’t care if you’re curious, I don’t care if you were just trying to make conversation, I don’t care if we’re trapped on a raft afloat at sea and we’ve already exchanged life stories. Don’t ask. And don’t say, “I know you probably hate this question, but what are you doing next year?” because that’s like saying, “I know you don’t like getting punched in the face, but…”
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Random Rants
Anti-rant from a soon-to-be alum, Granola-eating Grinnellian, Defying the Grinnell stereotype
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Letters to: The Editor
A sordid game | Keep asking questions | Is it a waste? | Thank you for your generosity
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