Word: sectionals
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...concerned about the privacy issues bloggers have been ranting about—“what if my husband/boss/TF sees that I’ve been sending enough emails to automatically follow my ex/competitor company/that cute boy in section?”—because, despite what you may think after reading the above, I’m actually not too lazy to just edit the settings. And I also know that technically I could just remove Buzz from my Gmail page...
...dang hard to get a hold of!” quipped my MIT friend. It’s true. He and I spent two weeks trying to find a time simply to get coffee. Every cancellation and re-schedule had been my fault, because of lab, section, rehearsal, or work. This type of social avoidance and excuse making is distressingly common in our college’s culture. As has been pointed out in all those “Harvard-doesn’t-have-sex” articles, every Harvard student is chronically over-scheduled. What they don?...
...more than there are distinguishable songs on the album. Most tracks on “Soldier of Love” hit the same low-tempo, somniferous groove that repeats until it stops, briefly, as if for convention’s sake, and then resumes in another key. The rhythm section, the core of any decent R&B group, sounds too often like the drum and bass GarageBand loops characterized by seamless, emotionally-bereft rhythmic accuracy and a robotic inability to feel—it’s hard to imagine human beings creating this record. This is particularly problematic seeing...
...with the quirky tinkle of a glockenspiel, hand claps and a spirited jazz flute. The somber growling of a cello intimates the lyrics Staples croons (“She rode me like a storm / Like a soaking brooding storm”), while the clear, brassy peals of the horn section end the track on a vigorous note. It’s easy to ignore the significant compositional skill required for such a seamless blend of disparate parts, but a careful listening reveals the group’s subtle musical craftsmanship...
...against the backdrop of shocking serial murders in a particularly poor section of England, the films tell the story of the West Yorkshire Constabulary and the corruption that has been eating away at the small police force for ten years. Spanning that decade, the audience is presented with a complex, moving look at this strange little place, the fear of three ruthless serial killers, and the desperation of having literally nowhere to turn in a town so filled with corruption...