Word: monumentalized
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...Still, there are some cracks in this apparently united front. A quiet but frank minority of students at Ole Miss say racial tensions still exist. They point to the Confederate-soldier monument that stands just 100 yards from the statue saluting James Meredith, who led the 1962 integration of Ole Miss at age 29. (Meredith himself reportedly told a small group of student journalists that he was not permitted to speak at his own 2006 statue dedication; a University spokesman denies this, saying Meredith declined to speak of his own accord.) These students cite self-segregated fraternity houses, dorms, parties...
...public kissing went on in the shadow of the Coliseum, where lips smacked on hands, cheeks, rings and even feet, as simple greetings or formal signs of submission. The place is still a notable showcase of public affection, but one specific act of passion played out near the ancient monument has added fire to a very modern debate...
...been holding hands were beaten by a gang shouting "Faggots Get Out of Italy." This and other attacks, including a fire in February set at the "Coming Out" gay club, have occurred in the neighborhood near the Coliseum. The road in front of the ancient monument, via San Giovanni in Laterano, has been dubbed Gay Street for the prevalence of gay clubs and bars situated there...
...stars' faces are landscapes too: not Zellweger's - with her strange, puffy planes, she is woefully miscast in the role of a beguiling woman - but Harris', Irons' and especially Mortensen's. They're as weathered and craggily handsome as any butte in Monument Valley. And however loquacious Virgil and Everett may occasionally be, their natural mode is silence. Any movie cowboy or gunman spends his time sitting and riding and drinking and musing and shooting - activities that don't demand talk. Our heroes are respecters of each other's privacy; they figure no man is likely to reveal...
...like a dissident’s manifesto, but instead sounds vaguely like a bizarre college essay or cover letter, establishing his academic, athletic, and extracurricular credentials. Di Pasquale is, in many ways, the ultimate representative of a Harvard culture obsessed with self-promotion. There really is no more perfect monument to grade-grubbing, fellowship-applying, e-recruiting Harvard than a student standing naked on Weeks Footbridge wrapped in text lauding his academic accomplishments, athletic prowess, and hot bod. So Matt di Pasquale, I salute you. As your magazine’s cover proclaims, “It?...