Word: lightbulbs
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...Danylo had a virtually physical passion for poetry. He reacted to poetry he loved in the way a lightbulb reacts when connected to electricity. He would repeat favorite lines in that Slavic, declamatory way that makes of words a magically transporting physical experience, an illumination and a kind of intellectual drunkenness. In later life, Dan acquired a solidity of middle age, a gravitas, with even an air of the august. But I think of Dan the way he was when I first knew him at Harvard - thin, handsome, dashing in a Slavic style, with high cheekbones and curly brown hair...
...going to stem from these kind of blatant illustrations of accidents around the home. Think about all the things your mother used to tell you never to do. Someone in a bathtub with an electrical appliance nearby, someone on a chair on some books screwing in a lightbulb. So some of them are going to be kind of funny, staged, accidents about to happen. But some of them are going to be more open-ended. Two figures beneath a sheet which, in the context of these other photographs, this beautiful sexual experience is an imminent danger, it's about...
...Crimson?" she asks. I write for them, I tell her. In fact, I am only here because The Crimson's magazine sent me. She is confused. "The bar?" she says. A lightbulb clicks. I have made a major faux pas. They are talking about the Grille. "Yeah, we call it the Crimson," she says. "We go Thursday nights." She says that she is surprised that we are nice because she has found that, although Harvard men like B.C. women, Harvard women tend to give them only dirty looks and snobby sneers. We reassure our new friends that such cattiness...
...Crimson?" she asks. I write for them, I tell her. In fact, I am only here because The Crimson's magazine sent me. She is confused. "The bar?" she says. A lightbulb clicks. I have made a major faux pas. They are talking about the Grille. "Yeah, we call it the Crimson," she says. "We go Thursday nights." She says that she is surprised that we are nice because she has found that, although Harvard men like B.C. women, Harvard women tend to give them only dirty looks and snobby sneers. We reassure our new friends that such cattiness...
Harvard is old. Older than plastic. Older than the lightbulb. Older than America. It is older than I can understand. "The stock of the Puritans," as the Alma Mater goes. Three hundred and fifty years of history, of people and buildings and dust is a lot to have to deal with. But for all that cumulative experience, Harvard is really only as old as the people who actually inhabit it--they just have the opportunity to listen to the dead. The Widener approach--with a memorial room open for about five non-consecutive hours a day and only made...