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In 1991, Yugoslavia, a multi-ethnic nation that remained one throughout the Cold War, began to disintegrate. Slovenia and Croatia declared independence and, shortly thereafter, were forced to defend their new freedom against Serbian armies intent on preserving a Yugoslav state historically beneficial to their group.
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Dusk has just taken hold, and underneath my window, a motley group of 50 or so are blowing whistles, beating drums and chanting anti-war slogans. No, you're not in Cambridge anymore. This is how we do it at Cal Berkeley where I am spending my last year of law school.
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After years of being dismissed as an idea too radical for serious debate, the issue of reparations for the American government's participation in slavery is now receiving close attention across the nation. Newspaper editorials, radio and television talk shows, and Sunday-morning political pundits have recently felt the need to address what was once thought to be a dead question: Should the government compensate African-Americans for enduring not only slavery, but the harsh legacy of racial discrimination in America? One of the architects of the reparations movement, Harvard Law Professor Charles Ogletree '78, answers "yes.
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As I stood outside at ten o'clock Friday night, cradling a tiny espresso cup with a burning candle inside, I thought about what a terrible time it is to be in law school. With the post-attack news cycle slowing, CNN and others have turned to human interest reporting to fill the airwaves.
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Last week, I ran into a couple folks from my HLS graduating class in the Washington, D.C. subway. Amidst the tight security and sense of loss that has enveloped our nation's capital since the recent terrorist attacks, their faces brought back a flood of memories from happier days before the world turned upside down when we were all in Cambridge -- studying in Langdell, hanging out at Cambridge Common, playing pool in the Hark.
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Wines are like gay people -- they're great at dinner parties but scare the hell out of Bible-thumpers. Or maybe wine is like sex -- there are a million different ways to have it, and if someone cares about how you have yours, they've got way too much free time.
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Every once in a while in the cases we read, I run across facts that are especially disturbing. For example, a rapist breaks into a single woman's apartment during the night. He is in the home for hours while she is locked outside because the police won't believe her story and refuse to break open the door.
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After a long day of wearisome toil for the Recording Artists Project clinical where he listened to eight hours of music from unsigned artist Angon Novhere, Fenno slumped into his LazyBoy and snapped open his favorite section of the Washington Post. To his horror, he discovered that Post columnist Lloyd Grove had caught wind of the tale of Harvard's feuding professors and had written a column as to the absurdity of it all.
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Yoko Ono broke up the Beatles, she brainwashed John and she fought with Paul. In Beatles mythology, she has been the bad witch, looming over the end of the world's greatest band with her taciturn expression. Public opinion has tended to evoke her only as the controlling force who ruined it for everyone.
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I mentioned to my mother several weeks ago that interviews would begin soon, and yesterday she called to find out how it was going. I described interviews as a blur of 20-minute meetings in hotel rooms with strange men and women, at which point my mother began shouting something into the phone about Satan and the East Coast.
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HL Central, for a lot of 2Ls and 3Ls, is synonymous with bar reviews, a website and maybe free donuts on Friday morning. The six-member board of the organization, elected in the spring, is hoping that students will add one more item to that list: community service.
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Big in Canada. Three words that must ring painfully in the underdeveloped ears of all American record executives. For years, the phrase seems to have served as a death knell for the stateside record-selling prospects of all but a few lucky bands. The mere thought of another Moist or 54-40 record languishing unbought on American shelves surely gives pause to even the hardiest of A&R men to this very day ... None of which bothers Sloan in the least.