The interuniversity trade routes between Yale and Harvard opened earlier this month by the proclamation of CS50’s export to Yale College, which is in Connecticut. This is no small step. CS50 is the best bioweapon we have engineered. With its t-shirts and free stuff, we are hopeful that it will divide the Yale campus into two groups: those who wear the “I took CS50” T-shirts, and those who do not. But this export should not be the last one by any means. FM considers other authentic items that Harvard has to offer to this time-honored rival for its betterment:
There are only a few things, less than I imagined there would be, from my pre-college years that remain present in my thoughts. I have lost interest in the chaos of my city, Istanbul, in the “mosaic” of its culture, in the nebulous (substitute: sketchy) politics of my country. Only a few characters from my past follow me around Harvard Yard as I pace from the two opposite edges (and intellectual spheres) of the campus, from Northwest Labs to Emerson Hall.
William Deresiewicz stirred up a frenzy last July with his New Republic article, “Don’t Send Your Kids to the Ivy League.” Before appearing on a panel moderated by Professor Homi K. Bhabha, Deresiewicz entertained FM’s questions.
A white round creature with four arms and four legs, the Phantom drone II is differentiated from its cousins by the stabilized GoPro camera dangling from its belly. Its job is to help the metaLAB get their fancy aerial footage.
A young Holyoke of the Class of 1746 chronicled the happenings at Harvard College before his admission: “1742, June 2. Foundation of the Chapel Laid Some part of ye begin’g of this month. [sic]” Thus he recorded the beginning of a symbolic change in the Harvard Yard: the construction of its first chapel. Despite the many religious commitments of Harvard men, who read the Scriptures multiple times in a day and practiced the teachings of the Bible, a century went by until Holden was built.
Going to Iceland for spring break was not my idea, really. My friend, a senior who will soon be a working woman in a tall, mighty tower in New York City, wanted to have one last trip before she committed to a no vacation offer. The location remained undetermined for months. Darjeeling, as advertised by Wes Anderson, was a good candidate considering the mission of the trip, but Reykjavik, as advertised by Icelandair on the T, won the competition with cheaper fares.
Once a month, a group of ten to 20 people push the shelves in the left room of the Harvard Book Store to make space for their discussion. They’ve just finished reading a book for the month’s meeting. The regulars exchange glances as they look around at the new faces.
Once upon a time, a student at Harvard could speak openly of his drunken whereabouts:
All of us will be checking our e-mails tomorrow morning with hopes of finding a Valentine’s Day message from Dean Pfister. FM imagines how the dean might celebrate this day with one of his signature messages to the student body.
As if the threat of an impending D.T.R. after every encounter wasn’t terrifying enough, Valentine’s Day has reared its cloyingly colored head once again. V-Day is one of those tricky subjects that’s easy to brush aside and even rant about when it’s several pages away on your calendar. But when it’s finally here?
The Crimson encourages the humanities departments to take action to stop the decline of humanities by creating new courses. These courses, conveniently labeled “m” for money, may succeed in luring students of STEM to the house of humanism and soothing their worries with regards to employment and low wages. These courses will all betoken the nuanced utilities of humanities courses in the most obvious manner. Students will get a chance to answer questions that have real life applications, and gain both intellectual enhancement and practical skills.
Researchers from Harvard Medical School have predicted that many more tumor suppressor and oncogenes have a combined effect on the development of disease than originally thought, concluding that cancer is even more complex than imagined.
The story of The Hound & Horn, begun when two underclassmen broke off from the ruthless social and literary hierarchy of Harvard undergraduate publications and pursued their own course, ultimately faded away into the history of the many short-lived literary publications
In this day and age, information abounds, but it is increasingly difficult to discern what information is accurate and reliable. What does this mean for the future of journalism? FM decided to ask the experts. Luckily, 24 of the world’s most accomplished journalists are right here at Harvard’s Nieman Foundation for Journalism, which celebrated its 75th anniversary this weekend. We asked some of the Nieman Fellows to describe in 100 words what they envision for the journalism of tomorrow.