Word: snooded
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Harvard students aren’t the most communal animals to begin with, so it’s scary to ponder how isolated we might become if the lure of cable television sat in our bedrooms next to Instant Messenger and Snood. Cable television need not be an isolating force; instead, the presence of cable televisions in house common spaces and living rooms brings otherwise isolated students out of their rooms and into contact with each other. And this is no small accomplishment, considering that there are only a few things that routinely pull students from their bedrooms, namely, food...
...want my organdy snood, and in addition to that I want my chiffon Mother Hubbard lined with Hudson Bay rat! Dress me up from top to bottom, dress me up from tip to toe, Dress me up in silk and spinach for today...
...though, concerned that many people here spend far too long plugged into their computers and not nearly enough time switched on to the world around them. How many students lament that they never get a chance to make the arduous ten minute journey into Boston but spend hours playing Snood, chatting banally on Instant Messenger or searching the Internet for virtual girls when they should out be looking for real dates? E-mail seems as vital to Harvard students’ existence as Vitamin C. Administrators should arrest these worrying trends, not encourage them...
...sidewalk eye-contact (broad daylight—ho, ho). But just as Lady MacBeth, even with all of Neptune’s seas, could not wash Banquo’s blood from off her ensanguined mitts, or whatever, so too is it impossible to delete the fargin’ Snood icon which sits blithely in the Windows toolbar—a constant reminder that I should be more careful about to whom I give access to my hard drive...
...these trespasses against the sanctity of my hard drive are inconsequential compared to the residual effects of Snood. It endures on the toolbar no matter how many trips one makes to the Recycling Bin. So to the young woman who has caused this scourge, look what I have been reduced to! And to downloaders everywhere who regret that moment of e-donism; to the promiscuous Snooders and College Jeopardy champions who hear my cry and want to send the blinking icons right back to the people who spawned them; come to the computer lab for an LED-light vigil...