Word: space
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...writing about the academic community in general, but in fact he would up covering Harvard. The Globe upgraded its correspondentship. (More than any other paper, the Globe has close ties to Harvard. Its publisher, Davis Taylor, is a member of the Board of Overseers, and it allots so much space to Harvard news that as correspondent I enjoyed more play than many full-time staffers.> Even the Washington, Post hired a stringer. These were the first indications that news about Harvard, and education in general, was moving away from the realm of the cute story and becoming big news...
Radcliffe dorms are not unlike Revere Beach for people who live there without wanting do. There is the same uncontrollable carnival of the senses in both. Hemmed into twelve square feet of space or less, constantly under the eyes of roommates and wandering acquaintances, subjected to a level of noise that has killed hamsters, girls who live in the brick dorms are so existentially stunted that they only point to parietal rules and the lack of "intellectual conversation" as reasons for doing away with dorms. But these complaints are abstractions on the periphery; the experience itself is too overwhelming...
...people, but they are what we are trying to get away from. People are everywhere, just hanging around. The sense of being under observation is so strong it sometimes seems the hallways are tunnels hung with rolling eyeballs. There are no free distances for the eyes and no space for the body. The confinement imposed by rules and restrictions is paralleled on the physical level by the sheer lack of room and privacy...
...choice of pushing on out toward the stars, much as the "classic" science fiction writers had depicted us. Or we could, as a species of intelligent beings, tool up for--well, something else. Maybe it is, as one of the reviewers of "2001--A Space Odyssey" seems to think, a Teilhard du Chardin-like leap of consciousness, a transfiguration into an all-pervasive incorporeal intelligence. Perhaps it is something not nearly so romantic; maybe just learning to like and respect each other and beginning to live on this planet at peace with ourselves...
Whatever it is, the choice has been made, and there's really no turning back. And I don't really know just why I'm sad that it must be as it will be. Maybe I'm just a romantic; maybe I only want to see the space-pilot analog to Ivanhoe; maybe I love the dreams of my childhood too much. There's just no telling. The only certain thing is that--whether we go to Mars or not--the choice has been made. You can see it in our literature; you can see it reflected in the increasing...