Walking into the 1902 Room in Baker Library is always intimidating. The steady sound of consistent typing, slightly audible whispers and faces painted with looks of concentration surround you as studiers shoot irritated looks at students who rustle papers or get up to use the bathroom.
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On this campus there are few things we have a lot of: snow, people willing to rally against pretty much anything and Keystone. The only edible thing you can make with snow is that maple candy stuff that they make in Little House on the Prairie, and the law prevents me from making anything with protestors. So Keystone it is. I found some recipes on the Internet calling for beer as an ingredient: sausages braised in beer with apples and onions, beer nachos, beer and beef stew and pomegranate beer tails. Because we are in Hanover and I have pledged to only cook with DBA-attainable food, the recipes had to be altered. It was a terrifying experience, and I did it all for you, dear readers.
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I sat at lunch and listened to a member of the Class of 2009, who asked to remain anonymous, describe his experiences snorting Adderall. I couldn’t help but be amused at the mysterious, slightly sketchy nature of this conversation. Many people talk freely about Adderall as a drug used for attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, or ADHD and studying purposes, but getting people to talk about the slightly darker side of Adderall — using the drug to aid in late-night raging — is a slightly more difficult task.
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Polocrosse is a sport that combines polo and lacrosse. I spent the last six months waiting to find out that it is a joke, and have finally come around to the awful truth: It is real, and Dartmouth fields a team. Polocrosse: putting the “white” in “really f*cking white.”
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The topic du jour is questions of quantity. In the past week I’ve had two papers, two exams, one quiz, one trip to California and two sleepless nights (not the good kind). You probably have some midterms too. In light of that fact, I’ve decided to do us both a favor and forgo the profound analyses that you have become so accustomed to over the arduous course of my two previous columns. After all, you had best save the energy that would have otherwise been devoted to deciphering the double entendre of my words and their implications in the greater geopolitical context for that English problem set you’ve been slaving over. The plan is to rely on survey respondents’ comments accompanied by some relevant yet concise commentary of my own. Hopefully this will tide you over until I complete five consecutive hours of sleep and one night of binge drinking so that I can return to normal functioning.
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During my usual ritual of veg time on the couch over winter break, I stumbled across a new cable channel. No, it wasn’t the useless Speed Channel with its never-ending motorcycle and auto races , nor was it an educational Discovery Channel pin-off. It was much, much better. What was this shining beacon of pure awesomeness? The Tube, a channel that shows nothing but music videos.
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Book: “Book of Sketches” by Jack Kerouac
Many know Kerouac only as the author of “On the Road,” but this book of story sketches in prose poem form reflects the man’s brilliance still more clearly. Kerouac’s “spontaneous prose” drifts from exquisitely imagined character sketches to gorgeous, melancholic descriptions of the towns he visited to angry despair at American consumerism. It’s a life-affirming journey into the writer’s mind. - Liz Ellison
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‘07 Girl at breakfast: I’m not hungry, I just want something in me.
Friend 1: I always masturbate to get over boys.
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