A Raccoon Among Tigers
It’s been another year of progress at our beloved Princeton University, as Old Nassau grows more inclusive and diverse with each incoming class. For Princetonians of conscience, the profoundly problematic legacy of Woodrow Wilson, our racist former president, remains a challenge, of course, and will forever — but ours is a vibrant community of scholars resolutely focused on the future. In this, we Tigers take deserved pride.
Nevertheless, we recognize at Princeton that social justice is a process, and grounds for self-criticism remain. As exams approached last semester, in mid December, a troubling incident occurred on campus that showed we are still falling short of our ideals.
The raccoon appeared at night, near Dillon Gym, a building erected in 1947 on the animal’s age-old habitat. (In press accounts of the events that followed, the creature was repeatedly referred to as a “masked marauder” or …
Pickers
I’m no longer legal to drive their bombs
The Judas goat state is the enemy of the poor, regardless of skin color
Soon enough, we’ll all be pickers for Amazon
We lived out in the Tules. Fifteen miles down a rutted dirt road. Long past the sewer lines. Out past the telephone lines. Closer to Three Peaks than we were to town. Papa Skinner bought flat land when flat land was cheap. Cheap, flat land with forage and a high enough water table was a good investment. You could always run cattle on it, dig a well, and grow alfalfa.
My birth certificate lists my daddy’s profession as “Pipe Fitter.” But his true vocation was PTSD from Vietnam. He wanted to become a commercial artist. That didn’t happen. In late 68, the same year M.L.K. and R.F.K. were slain in plain sight, a counselor at Harbor College miscalculated his class credits and his A1 draft notice followed. The surfer boy they deported was not the broken child soldier they shipped back.
My mama’s profession ain’t listed. Neither were her aspirations. At the time, she was a cocktail waitress using …
Susannah's Winter Playlist
Some say the fun of winter is being able to trudge through the snow while imagining that your fingers have fallen off because you can't feel them. But I think it's about the calm after the storm, drinking hot chocolate by a crackling fire while watching the snow fall outside. Either way, there are good songs for both winter preferences.
FIRE — Songs that generate heat, or could be listened to while sitting around a fire
“Bull in the Heather” by Sonic Youth
(One of the only cool music videos is for this song.)
“And I Love Her” by Kurt Cobain
(Kurt Cobain’s most raw, fiery vocals... on a Beatles song?)
“Honey I Sure Miss You” by Daniel Johnston
(Could be a campfire song, except it makes me cry.)
“Straight Edge” by Minor …