We are an intelligent bunch, or so they lead us to believe, and we all have passions, talents and awesome stories to share — so I don’t get this recent trend of censoring our discourse by uttering, or at times, shouting, “self callll.” I am afraid we limit our ability to express our true selves by confining conversation topics to anything but ourselves. Humility is nice, but perhaps Dartmouth students have taken it to an extreme. More »
Its hard to avoid making self-calls at a place like Dartmouth. For one, we all turned down Harvard to come here. Then there’s the fact that we do some pretty cool sh*t as a as a student population. We become Rhodes scholars; we win Olympic gold medals; we try to see how many chicken nuggets we can fit in our mouth while still being able to swallow. More »
With the exception of such classic maneuvers as challenging one’s nemesis to a duel, perhaps no social weapon has gained quite as much currency on campus as accusing someone of having just performed a “self-call.” Though it is perhaps now past its prime — like the Eminem of pejorative exclamations — I think that the phenomenon of self-calling, and more importantly the phenomenon of calling out self-calls, nonetheless deserves a turn under the dissection glass. More »
“Do you think that the male equivalent of the vajayjay is the panini?” - ‘06 girl, post-“Grey’s Anatomy.” More »
By Michael Xiao Before you take anything I write seriously in this article, let me tell you a story about myself. Two years ago, around this time of the year, I was taking in a double feature of venerated foreign cinema classics in Spaulding Auditorium. Normally, that fact alone would make me eminently more qualified than anyone else to pontificate about movies. But what is more important than what I chose to spend my Sunday night doing is what I decidedly wasn’t doing… watching the Oscars. Yes, I chose “The 400 Blows” and “The Bicycle Thief” over an evening of dresses, washcloths passing as dresses, and, well, dresses that wish they were washcloths. So, with that in mind, let’s get onto my preview of the Oscars. More »
In high school, many of us were constantly preoccupied with SATs, ACTs, GPAs, WNBAs, N*SYNCs, etc. We served the community and participated in all kinds of quirky activities for the sake of the biggest self-call of all time: the college application. Back in those days, we were lame. More »
Boy, is my face red. I’ve been eating my words ever since I printed a column last week about this year’s lack of a true Dartmouth winter. It appears that meteorology is not my calling. Just look outside if you need verification. More »
With finals fast approaching, we witness the growth of the sweats-clad student population and the disappearance of well-coordinated outfits around campus. While the male population of Dartmouth seems to don this uniform of sweatpants all term long without haste, their female counterparts put up a good fight for most of the term. But by the end of the term, they too may succumb to the notion of function over fashion, and slip into a well-worn pair of baggies. It is amusing that this sweatpant epidemic kicks off around the same time as formals, so girls who don’t mind looking scrubbed-out on first-floor Berry by day, worry about being well-coiffed and fabulous by night. The transformation is strangely astounding. While it’s difficult to back sweatpants as an aesthetic choice, some swear to them for sheer comfort-value. But does the comfiness of fuzzy-lined butt pants compensate for the fashion flaw that we deem them to be? Is a well-managed slacker-look the next fashion trend? And should fashion succumb to function in time for finals freak-out? The debate continues — we’ll let you be the judge. More »
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