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Maybe I am writing for the French boy who told his father that the bad people have guns, and maybe I am writing for the father who responded “but we have flowers.” Maybe this is for Sudanese migrants, maybe for funerals in Baghdad.
Murphy’s Law is a commonly known adage that posits that anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. But just because your last name is Murphy does not mean that this law applies, especially if your first name is Tim and you coach the Harvard football team. In fact, there seems to be a very different Murphy’s Law in place in Cambridge, and the result is a system that not only doesn’t fail most of the time, but also refuses to fail.
Ask me why I write and I’ll tell you that I write to find out what I’m thinking, to release and expunge feelings, to find what it is that I see in my head—what I want, what I fear.
If I fail to struggle with the West’s complicated legacy, and fail to embrace the undeniable offerings it has because of that, I am the one who loses out.
A long win streak spanning multiple seasons. A chance for a third championship for the first time in school history. I am, of course, talking about the Harvard football team, entering last week’s penultimate contest against Penn with hopes of clinching the Ivy title, right?
What intellectual work am I doing by calling myself a Tired Old Queen?
LVMH’s new museum may indeed be a beautiful gift to the art world and a lovely amenity for Parisians, but as a surreptitious marketing attempt, it is ultimately nothing more than sponsored content.
No, I will not smile for you. I did not dress myself today to be a pleasing sight as you walk to work; I dressed myself to go somewhere.
I could go on and on, but in the end, “slut” is an epithet based not on fact, but solely on skewed and hurtful judgment.
Perhaps not everyone draping the French flag over their Friday-night-out pictures is an astute observer of geopolitics. Does that mean that they value the life of a Frenchman over that of an Arab? Probably not.
I have come to terms with trying to love myself instead of comparing myself with others that cross the same trail.
Those who twist this reality to cry of moral favoritism against the outpour of solidarity with France as opposed to browner countries like Lebanon and Iraq seem to base their argument on the risibly opportunistic, wholly inappropriate speculation that somehow Americans value French lives more than Middle Eastern ones.
Electing leaders “who will exercise their conscientious judgment” to protect “the real good of the rest of the community” remains the basic imperative of American democracy.