Websites where people can enter their personal information, upload a seven year old picture of themselves, and be matched with their soul-mate on a thousand levels of compatibility have caught the eyes of nerds and other socially awkward Internet users everywhere.
Opinion
Opinions from our editorial board and contributors.
OFF THE BOARD: Confessions of a Renegade Cyclist
To those whose misfortune it may have been, at two p.m. on any given weekday at the beginning of this summer, after my logic class ended, to have found themselves somewhere along the most direct route – and I mean the most direct – between campus and my apartment on Rue St.
EDITORIAL: Tribal Frosh and the Tone of Campus Debate
The Tribune applauds the Management Undergraduate Society’s decision last week to change the name of their frosh week from “Tribal” to “Superhero,” though we are deeply concerned over the predictably hyperbolic reaction to the original idea. The change came after howls of protest over the initial theme, and the online dissemination of a promotional video depicting a handful of Management students posing as members of various African and Central and South American tribes.
Ain’t nothing but a P thang: So… this weather, eh?
It can happen anywhere, at any time. It is social torture. It is the Awkward Conversation-insignificant, trite repartee that neither party engaging in it cares about. Drawing from personal experience, the Panthea Institute of Over-analysis will now review three main sources from which it stems.
Ain’t nothing but a P thang: Confessions of a snob
Did you see what she is wearing? Omigod, I can’t believe he just said that! Admit it, we all pass judgments on others for the silliest of things-their outfits, their musical preferences, whatever. It’s human nature. There is a bit of snob in each of us. In my case, however, it is more than just a bit.
Ain’t nothing but a P thang
Apparently, you have already met the person you will marry by age 21. I call bullshit. I just hit the magical number and I’ll be damned if that saying rings true because, frankly, my options are looking bleak. I have yet to meet the Prince Charming who will whisk me off to a life of white picket fences.
Digital culture
Moving away from home for the first time triggered something inside my mind. As a Freshman, a sense of loss washed over me, and this sorrow manifested itself into a bizarre syndrome, an inexplicable dependency, a mind-boggling complex. A small fish in an increasingly bigger pond, I yearn for communication with those I left behind.
Ain’t nothing but a P thang: Love me, validate me, confirm and poke me
Jared had Subway. Fergie had Jenny Craig. I, Panthea Lee, have the Facebook. Just as those above institutions changed the lives of J-Money and F-Train, the Facebook has transformed the life of yours truly. (Note: for those poor, deprived souls that know not of what I speak, go to Thefacebook.
Ain’t nothin’ but a P Thang – “You have mail” and other horror stories
My mother always told me that “hate” was a very strong word. And I agree. Today, I no longer hate liver, I just intensely dislike it. I no longer hate my life; I only wish it were different. Completely different. Heck, I no longer hate Graham Jacobs, though I wish I could smash his conceited little face into a billion pieces and then send the smithereens to that new skank he’s dating.
THE SITUATION: Turn to the right
I thought I knew who I was before I came to university. I thought, for instance, that I wasn’t a racist. But when I told two girls tabling against Israel that the State had a right to exist, they cleared that up for me. Which was lucky, because after a year of educating my Jewish youth group on the dangers of Islamophobia, I might have gone my whole life not knowing how much I hated people different from me.
