Words of warning for terrorists
EVERY NOW and then the pricklies return. And when they do, I know that I am helpless to stop them.
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EVERY NOW and then the pricklies return. And when they do, I know that I am helpless to stop them.
TOMORROW the move is official. A couple signatures, a handshake or two and my parents will finally put to bed weeks of quiet anxiety and a final couple days of furious packing.
A COUPLE of weeks ago many of the major reputable news sources of this country found themselves in a rather embarrassing game of limbo with much of the American public standing idly by wondering, "How low can they really go?" The lure of a story about President Bush's underage twin daughters attempting to purchase alcohol at a local Austin, Texas restaurant using a fake ID was more than most editors and anchormen could resist. And while some of these newspapers and magazines retained a bit of their journalistic integrity by giving the story a cursory glance and placing it on a back page, many failed, and failed miserably.
AS I SAT on the floor of my room earlier this week, my back supported by an old dusty couch and my mind comfortably on cruise control, I thought about the columns I'd written this year and what they had attempted to accomplish. As I sat, reminiscing and bemoaning the quick passage of yet another year, a singular realization - a "mind brake" if you will - suddenly screeched me to a halt.
IF WORDS had a texture, "no" would be sandpaper - coarse, spike-adorned sandpaper. Fourth years shouldn't say "no" to the class gift.
A COMPLETE college education is an experience that should never be skipped over. The primary goal of any university or institution of higher learning is an education -- that's a given. Some students come to learn history, some biology and some football. Many venture to earn a diploma that might or might not have a practical use in the working world. By the same token, some venture to polish athletic skills or to be recognized by scouts for professional athletic teams. Such is the nature of a collegiate education.
MONDAY'S lead editorial, "Disconnect Ethernet subsidies," wrongly attacked the University administration for helping fraternity and sorority organizations pay for the installation of expensive high-speed Ethernet service.
COLUMN TOPICS that are fun to write about usually involve a per-sonal experience. In my case, quite often that column idea must jump in my lap and scream in my face before I can see it. Chances are, I'll still misunderstand what the screaming is all about.
WELL, THE people have spoken. When less than half choose to do so, what comes out is more whisper than roar.
WHEN A child is brought into this world, a mother must accept an amazing life responsibility as role model and teacher of this child. The depth of my mother's wisdom amazes me everyday. Fortunately for us all, she loves to talk. Some of the greatest lessons she has ever impressed upon me were at the kitchen table during the late night heart to hearts that only a mother and her son could have.
MY FELLOW Wahoos, lend me your ears, take out a pen and write down this date: Thursday, Feb. 1, 4 p.m. The location you'll want to visit is the Programs Office on the first floor of Newcomb Hall, room 149. There. You're now officially invited to the opening of the newest addition to the University, the Leadership Resource Center.
ON SATURDAY morning I had a revelation. I'm sitting in my room, minding my own business and absorbed in the inaugural speech of our newest president, when out of the blue, I was blindsided by this reference to scripture: "When we see that wounded traveler on the road to Jericho," said President Bush on the steps of the Capitol, "we will not pass to the other side." This noble quote was a surprising change to the humdrum of inaugural prose.
'TWAS the week before exams, As odd thoughts filled my head. I'm excited about these tests, They don't fill me with dread.
FOR AS long as I can remember, my grandmother has displayed in a framed picture case a phrase that has recently become my favorite to quote and to pass around: "Sometimes we forget how far we've progressed and how much we've accomplished."
I'M GOING to tell you a little story about this University, so bear with me.
MY FAVORITE movie by a landslide is "It's A Wonderful Life." Maybe it's because our family only watches it during the Christmas season, and it will always remind me of the holidays. Or maybe it's because the timeless story always touches a nerve in me, and will always usher in a smile.
I TALK to myself. I admit it, I do. Just yesterday I found myself very loudly debating the skirmishes in the Middle East with, well, me.
FALL IS upon us. The leaves are turning and crunch as students walk briskly between classes, hands in pockets, hat on head. Somewhere, as you walk along puffing white clouds with each breath, somebody has a fire burning, you recognize the smell, but just can't quite figure where it's coming from. In another couple weeks, as we near Thanksgiving and when the leaves are no longer changing, Charlottesville will embrace autumn completely.
Medical ethics debates don't just involve abortion pills or assisted suicide. Here at the University, we are neither isolated nor immune from an important medical issue of our own: Pre-medicine has degenerated into a competition. It's about competing for medical schools, it's about competing for grades -- and it needs to stop.
STANFORD University has taken a stand without even knowing it by banning the use of virtual advertising in the broadcasts of their basketball games. Virtual advertising distorts the reality of a broadcast by using computers to overlay a digital image over an object on the screen.