Now I come to you all as a muse, Who would share his award-winning views, On a subject so great, On a night, on a date, That to miss it would give you the blues. So sit back, have a drink, don’t delay, For my words, you shan’t have to pay. Though mayhaps you should,...
I used to think Binghamton University was a big school. With green behind my ears and hope in my heart, I came to school excited for a fresh dose of anonymity — a nice clean slate where I knew no one, and no one knew me. I liked the idea of sitting down in a...
As fall term comes to a close and finals week looms, it is difficult, and likely unproductive, to take time to reflect. With papers due and exams upon us, to look back is to waste time. But as my first full calendar year at Binghamton University nears its end, I can’t help but consider the...
Taxes are my religion. Yup, taxes. Income tax, property tax, tobacco tax and toll booths especially. These are all things I believe in quite passionately, even spiritually. Not in the classic theological sense, though. I don’t worship IRS agents, or consider the income tax deadline a religious holiday. Still, I’d like to think that my...
Well gang, I suppose it’s time to start this column. One hour until deadline. But forgive me if I have a little fun with this. I have a book to read, an essay to write and some sort of portfolio to put together, all immediately following the completion of whatever this turns out to be....
“Do you play basketball?” I am approximately 6 feet 8 inches tall. I am asked this question, and others like it, multiple times a day. I am still coming to terms with it, but any one of my friends can attest to my general discomfort with my height, and has heard me rant many times...
My Intro to Macroeconomics TA sighed as he said, “I know you all know this, but the professor told me to run through it anyways.” He went on to halfheartedly explain a seemingly simple process, skipping some steps, performing others with what looked very much like a hint of sarcasm. Graphing a line. In his...
As you read this, I may already be dead. This is likely the final entry in my survival journal. I write with fingers cramping, sight wavering, strength failing. This is my message in a bottle, a desperate attempt to contact the civilized world. You see, I am stranded, lost — not on a desert island...
Welcome new Bearcats! I’ve chosen to dedicate my first column of the year to you bright-eyed squirts. For all I know, this could be the first and last time you pick up a copy of Pipe Dream this year, so I decided to capitalize on your soon-to-be-forgotten sense of Binghamton University community spirit. So set...
By any measure, my freshman year at Binghamton University was far from perfect. I was depressed more often than I was contented. I took more time to ponder attending another university than I did to plan which parties to attend on a given weekend. My fluctuations in mood weren’t as much from good to bad,...
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