Despite the commercialism of its peer holidays, Valentine’s Day endures the most persecution by cynics. Complaints of “cliché” or “commercialization” of love suggest that our celebration of Valentine’s Day antagonizes a higher societal ideal of love. I am skeptical about whether we actually have this. Is our concept of love really so passionate, so unique, so unbridled by capitalism?
Despite the commercialism of its peer holidays, Valentine’s Day endures the most persecution by cynics. Complaints of “cliché” or “commercialization” of love suggest that our celebration of Valentine’s Day antagonizes a higher societal ideal of love. I am skeptical about whether we actually have this. Is our concept of love really so passionate, so unique, so unbridled by capitalism?
Appealing to an older and wealthier demographic, expensive college-wear transcends the name or reputation of a particular institution and rather serves as an affirmation of an idealized collegiate lifestyle.
Appealing to an older and wealthier demographic, expensive college-wear transcends the name or reputation of a particular institution and rather serves as an affirmation of an idealized collegiate lifestyle.
With a small but flexible cast and a script remastered by Simon Armitage, “Homer’s Odyssey”—as performed by the Handcart Ensemble at the Bleecker Street Theatre—serves as an intermediary between Literature Humanities’ study of the “Odyssey” and the work’s practical implications in modern life.
With a small but flexible cast and a script remastered by Simon Armitage, “Homer’s Odyssey”—as performed by the Handcart Ensemble at the Bleecker Street Theatre—serves as an intermediary between Literature Humanities’ study of the “Odyssey” and the work’s practical implications in modern life.
For some of us, it was a crowning achievement, the single piece of writing we’re still most proud of. For others of us, it was juvenile and shameless, 500 words of self-indulgence that are too agonizingly laughable to reread.
For some of us, it was a crowning achievement, the single piece of writing we’re still most proud of. For others of us, it was juvenile and shameless, 500 words of self-indulgence that are too agonizingly laughable to reread.
“You can’t leave now!” admonished my desk-mate Jan.
“Why not now?” I asked. My capital hometown wasn’t going anywhere, and I was off to bigger and greener (greenish) pastures on the Upper West Side of New York.
“You can’t leave now!” admonished my desk-mate Jan.
“Why not now?” I asked. My capital hometown wasn’t going anywhere, and I was off to bigger and greener (greenish) pastures on the Upper West Side of New York.
