Columns

There’s a big difference between paying to stream music and streaming for free.

Flip through the teal journal I always carry in my backpack, and among torn-out pages and blocks of diagonally written paragraphs, you’ll find this sentence buried in a list. It’s an odd list, haphazardly scrawled in two very distinct sets of penmanship.

“I don’t want to sound grim, but this weekend felt like an ending,” my friend said after participating in FestiFools on Sunday afternoon and, no matter what she had wanted, it was not a pos

People told their stories, in whatever form they wanted. No restrictions, character limits or quickly snapped videos.

The most noticeable gap in the rules pertains to drugs and alcohol.

I’d eaten at the League and walked across the Diag, but without knowing their names. I’d studied in the Hatcher reading room, but probably couldn’t have located it on a map.

To pretend that the words on the Diag were inspired by anything other than hatred and bigotry is absurd. That doesn’t mean that those words can’t be uttered or written, even in the way they were.

Conversations will be sparked by the simple truth that sexism is alive and well. It will have a name, a face and an unconvincing head of hair.

Watching our current political circus is no longer amusing.

Spotify revolutionized how we listen to and discover music. Prior to its release, the ~Youth of the Internet Age~ had to trawl through YouTube to listen to songs or resort to piracy.