“I went into a dream” indeed: “Pepper” argues and proves that dreams and the imagination—and, ultimately, music and art itself—are that missing link between our inescapable everyday lives and the divine.
When English department chair James W. Simpson told The Crimson on March 23 that future concentrators would be required to take at least one course that featured authors “marginalized for historical reasons,” he met a chorus of off-campus objections.
Having failed to find a successor, Trevor J. Levin ’19 (returning theater exec) makes one last multi-thematic pitch—this time for the inherent weekly responsibilities, rewards, and romantic struggles that define his own job.
For the polls to make sense, millions of Americans must exist who decided they could not stomach a man who brags about getting away with groping married women, only to decide—within weeks or days—that they could, after all.
After we beat the Cubs and bring a World Series championship back to Cleveland for the first time since Dewey beat Truman, let’s really think about Wahoo, and, while we’re at it, the name “Indians.” Sure would be nice to retire them on a high note.
At Harvard, participating in the arts often requires previous experience, an involved comp process, or a significant time commitment, but within the residential community, there exists lower-stress creative outlets for students. As administrators look to shift Harvard’s social life away from off-campus social organizations, art spaces in the houses serve as new centers for student engagement.
Whenever your opponent says anything to your disadvantage, just rudely interrupt her with a loud “Wrong!” Acceptable alternatives include “It’s lies,” “I did not say that” and “I never said that,” “Ugh,” and my favorite, “Not!”