Lauren E. Grobaty
Walking into Sanders, no one quite knows what to make of the scene. The hall that has in its time hosted heads of state, great debaters, dignitaries, scholars, and presidents, is now blasting Enrique Iglesias. While the music calls for a mosh pit, the audience is reserved, but a buzz of excitement swells in the air. “I hear she’s sweet,” one girl whispers to her friend, who replies, “I hope she dresses like she did on Desperate Housewives.”
In 1692, there was a tide in the affairs of the Mathers. Increase Mather, the family patriarch, had just reluctantly accepted his appointment as Harvard’s seventh president. His son, Cotton, was a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed young minister who fully immersed himself in all things Protestant. Neither had much to do with the other’s business, until something wicked came their way.
Breaking news: the dream of the ’90s is alive in our very own Barker Café. On Oct. 16, hipster Harvard students and professors were finally relieved of their pent-up anguish and at last given a quality coffee stop besides the distressingly mainstream Lamont Café or pricey Square establishments.