Word: splendor
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...with southern charm yet charged with gritty, unhewn candor, it resonates with a sense of immediacy and emotional clarity that is nothing short of divine. And yet somehow, even after seventeen tedious years of development, Ray, based on Charles’ life, does not muster any semblance of the splendor within his music. The film lacks emotional attachment on any level and fails in every way as a meaningful addition to his life and legacy. With a mix of deceitful, manipulative Hollywood story telling techniques masquerading as artistic strokes and tacky, unfocused, pop-filmmaking, director Taylor Hackford, manages to turn...
...somehow, even after seventeen tedious years of development, Ray, based on Charles’ life, does not muster any semblance of the splendor within his music. The film lacks emotional attachment on any level and fails in every way as a meaningful addition to his life and legacy. With a mix of deceitful, manipulative Hollywood storytelling techniques masquerading as artistic strokes and tacky, unfocused, pop filmmaking, director Taylor Hackford manages to turn an amazing story of sheer will triumphing over adversity into a two-and-a-half hour mess that will damage Charles’ memory...
...fear of being ravaged from all sides of the final club spectrum, I wish to remain apolitical; that is, I seek neither to deter nor defend partaking in these Harvardian rituals. That said, I will happily add that the chance to indulge in the offerings of complimentary alcoholic splendor presents an almost undeniable obligation to attend—for those amongst the chosen few. As you angrily cast away your hand-written invitation in the name of moral righteousness, just think of the worryingly large majority of people who’ll never enjoy the chance to have a Heineken...
...place long enough to give us a depth of understanding about the environs or people in the places he visits. "A Few Perfect Hours," ultimately reads more like autobiography set in exotic locals. But without the neurotic and complex central personality of, say, Harvey Pekar's in his "American Splendor" series, or the funny and dramatic stories of Dennis Eichhorn's "Real Stuff," we are left with only the mild adventures of a nice guy who means well. Maybe you can relate, but it doesn't move you anywhere...
Sometimes, when I emerge from my rabbit hole in Adams House—my window faces a brick wall approximately one foot away— I am dumbstruck by the splendor around me, the silence of my small room smashed by the tones of this tramway-streamlined world. Harvard Square is a great place to gather in these last moments of summer. The rhythm is as varied as our course catalog, a synergy of locals and intellectuals at thriving hotspots like Noch’s and the Garage. It is a place of high entropy, where disorder increases...