Letter from the Editor
This morning (March 3rd), the first thing I did upon leaving my building was check my Weather app for the week’s forecast, hoping to see some yolky sun icons, some numbers above 45. “Hoping” is an interesting subject—or whatever it is you do when you try to force your vision, pitifully, into the world. Maybe “praying” is the right word, though it’s a cheap kind of prayer. I stared at the screen as I hurried across 110th : temperatures expected to rise throughout the week, culminating in Saturday’s spectacular high of 46—a deep yellow sun icon wreathed in a bashful cloud icon, the coquette. At the moment it was below twenty degrees; a cold, foggy day, but not unfriendly. I hurried to class. Talking about the weather is vulgar, I guess. It’s the smallest talk there is and often pretty boring. I’ll bet that wasn’t the case when people believed natural processes were direct expressions of God’s will. Anyway, part of me thinks that without a religion (broadly conceived) all talk is small. (I’m sure this line of thought tempts some to mutter, “never worked a day in his life.” Not true, haters). Still, caring about the weather isn’t vulgar. Even in a place like Manhattan where every surface seems like artifice (including the “greenery”) the weather reminds us of our relationship with the earth in a deeply mystical way. I’m sure every one of you remembers the freak weekend in February when it was warm and sunny. Days like that stick out in the midst of slushy bullshit. A change in temperature can make you feel like a different person. Though I didn’t change my routine at all that balmy weekend, I opened my window and went about my usual work with new relish. There was a sweet dampness in the air that made me glad just to breathe it. On a beautiful day you feel as though you’ve been given the most sincere gift. I’m keeping my eyes out for signs of spring.
— Torsten Odland
TRANSACTIONS
ARRIVALS
The new Cold War
Everyone you know, now in a band
Arugula
Red tape
Bell’s beer
Spring
Ski masks
Vermont’s heroin problem
DEPARTURES
College Walk tree lights
Blue tape
True Detective
Myspace
Kale
That kid who painted his dorm room
Vermont’s obesity problem
Come Again!?
“And you know how it goes—the
more time you spend with your
tongue down someone’s throat,
the less time you’ll spend drinking.
Maybe.”
– The staff of the Columbia Lion
CORE REQUIREMENTS
THE NINE WAYS OF KNOWING
Sight
Logic
Taste
Hallucination
Inner Ear
Astral Projection
Faith
From a Mistake
Books
GS
Three Tours in Iraq
Nine Years on Broadway
Keeping the Dream Alive
Hustling Hard and Giving It Your All
THE CORE CURRICULUM
Simplicity
New Jazz Age Capitalism
Vegan-Anarchism
Frontiers of Science
Ego Death
SEAS MAJOR
Political-Economy of the Computer State
The Strength of Rocks and Metals
Pre-Algebra
Content Management
Magnets