Blue Book, March 2014

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

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s