A non-ag student tries to understand local food By Maura Thomas I try to participate, as a matter of taste and convenience, in the habit of buying and eating food close to home—a practice called locavorism. In Ithaca, we find ourselves with ample sites to indulge: Greenstar Cooperative Market, the Ithaca Farmer’s Market, countless local CSAs (Community Supported Agriculture), etc. A shock to those of … Continue reading The Guilt Trip of Locavorism
a selection of first-person accounts
By ANNA A. BRENNER
As strange as it may sound to all you bio majors and engineers, the determining factor for my choosing Cornell was its theatre department.
Now, before I continue, I do have to mention that my other option for college was Johns Hopkins, which, despite its incredible writing program (another thing I was interested in), only offered a theatre minor. And, as I wanted to major in both English and Theatre, I knew that any place that just offered me a minor was not going to cut it.
tinder in ithaca
By MO RAHMAN
I’m not opposed to hookup culture; in fact, if you’ve got a good grasp on safe sex, I say go for it. But I only say this because hookups are rampant on a college campus, and it’s really more so something I’ve gotten used to and accepted than something I’ve actively wished for. So imagine my surprise when Tinder suddenly became the prevalent mobile platform for “meeting” people at or outside of Cornell — air quotes to signify that meeting is not where it ends, if you’re lucky. Did we really need that? If you’ve been living under the cavernous seclusion of the Olin stacks for the last two years or so, Tinder is an app that connects to your Facebook profile. You can swipe right or left — yes or no, respectively — and if the potent gods of Tinder find two people who have an inevitable attraction to each other (two swipes right), there’s a match! What could go wrong?
By YANA LYSENKO
kitsch: How did you find yourself working in the Cornell English Department?
Masha Raskolnikov: I’ve now been here 12 years, which is such a long time. I was a grad student at Berkeley, and there was a job list, and in those days, it was fairly plausible to apply for 10 jobs, and have a reasonable chance of getting one of them. It was really thrilling to actually get the job, and I spent the first few years here pretty sure they had made a terrible mistake. But I feel like that’s how most women feel when they get put into any position of something resembling authority, or accolades. You feel like “I managed to fool them once, but they’ll figure it out soon.”
how to love and hate yourself as an ivy league white woman
By KAITLYN TIFFANY
She’s been bullied into feminism, but doesn’t quite know how to express it; she’s come into money but doesn’t know how to be excited about that without alienating her middle class fans. She wants to be politically liberal, but she knows that conservative parents are the only people left in America who buy copies of CDs for their children. Two years ago, in this magazine, I wrote 3000 words calling Taylor Swift a feminist’s nightmare and “an absolute landmine of horrible when it comes to the status of womanhood in America.” Though I stand by what I said, I can’t stand by how I said it, which was as if I was 100 percent better than her — a feminist’s dream.
an interview with DJ Dale
By RODRIGO UGARTE
For almost seven years, one man has brought karaoke to countless Ithaca bars for the enjoyment of the drunken masses. His name is Dale Harrington, but many know him simply as DJ Dale. Over the years, Dale has expanded his DJ and karaoke business into a successful lineup of shows Monday through Thursday, adding a bit of musical entertainment to Ithaca’s nightlife. I explore how he started. Continue reading “The Under-appreciated Ithaca Karaoke Scene”
By BECKY OCHS
If you’ve been to the Ithaca Farmers Market (and if you haven’t, shame on you), you’ve surely seen the hoards of people lined up outside of stand number 50, eagerly awaiting a delicious meal. Khmer-Angkor Cambodian Food attracts countless students, visitors, and locals each week, all of whom deem the food worthy of a half-hour wait or more. Even on a cold, cloudy day in April, the line at Khmer-Angkor extends past the neighboring stands and out the market pavilion. Given the stand’s popularity, kitsch decided to go behind the counter and investigate its allure. Continue reading “Khmer-Angkor”
By SOPHIA CHAWALA
Spring is nascent in the Ithaca air. The sun is finally peeping out of its hiding place; blue pockets of sky are beginning to poke holes in the gray winter clouds; stubborn snow is melting away from the grass, the trees, and the cars.
We all know this springtime feeling, but it is never complete without the cherry on top: Course Registration. Continue reading “America’s One-Stop-Shop Education System”
and their corresponding emotional breakdowns
by JAMES RAINIS
Life has been rough on you: your prelims have beaten you down like a gang of French Nationalist skinheads encountering a vaguely ethnic guy, your roommates have all just landed better internships than you, and most pressingly, you haven’t gotten laid in literally forever. Like, so long that your condoms (or, for inclusivity’s sake, dental dams) have actually expired. But, in the prophetic words of R. Kelly, it’s the freakin’ weekend, baby, and you’re about to have you some fun. This means alcohol. Continue reading “Four Collegetown Bars”
Cornell’s most notorious spooks
By ZACK LABE
It is likely that, at least once, you have found yourself locked away and alone on a Saturday night while immersed in a scary movie. After the movie ends, you find yourself exiting into the hall. You run to the bathroom. The showerhead that has been broken since the beginning of the fall semester continues to drip. A creepy kind of drip… Drip… Drip… You quickly brush your teeth and turn toward the door. Scream. Oh, wait. It’s just the lovely and semi-disturbing howls of drunken Saturday night escapades at the TCAT bus stop. Okay, back to your room. Thud. Ugh, just another night of furniture rearrangement with your friendly neighbors on the next floor up. Continue reading “The Haunting in Ithaca”