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Living in a college town has always seemed to be one of the more subtle and better-natured forms of masochism. In its positive and lighter sense this desire for pain manifests itself in the form of cheap, old movies, free umbrellas and unmatched gloves in any lost-and-found worth finding, saunas for the Nordics, free toilet paper for the light-fingered, and the Perkins Library world famous collection of necrobilia on the Dukes of Durham.
By William GaitherFebruary 1976The New Age — what is it, anyway? Another fad? A hustle? In a society so given to instant enlightenment and the quick buck, slogans like this, especially when they’re used to sell everything from shampoo to magazines, are as suspect as Guru Maharaji in his silver Maserati.
By Priscilla Rich, Sy SafranskyFebruary 1976For years, I spent an hour every morning with The New York Times. It wasn’t that different from repeating a mantra or concentrating on the breath. Stories, like thoughts, would come and go; in time, it dawned on me that “objectivity” was pure myth, since no two people, journalists included, see the same event in the same way.
By Sy SafranskyJanuary 1976To begin with, I don’t believe in alternate life styles. Having lived communally, having been married, having lived alone, it all comes down to the same thing: you live, ultimately, with yourself.
By Sy SafranskySeptember 1975We’re unsure whether to go. “I don’t want to hear about how we haven’t got much time left,” I lament.
By Sy SafranskyJune 1975Each seed, each baby born, each word, each deed, all together now, creating the music of the world.
By Mike MathersApril 1975More jobs in the last year than I can remember, and so little sense, through it all, of any purposeful endeavor, of meaningful labor, of real work.
By Sy SafranskyFebruary 1974Personal, political, provocative writing delivered to your doorstep every month—without a single ad.
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