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What is that culture? It is a culture that fosters the worst sort of arrogant self-righteousness. I have often wondered what might be wrong with a person who, dissatisfied with their food, would actually yell at a waiter at a restaurant. Now I know--they probably went to Harvard. Too many people here have been told that the world is their oyster. And, they've been told far too many times. We all have an exceptional aptitude for academics, but we are not gods or royalty. The student in the crepe shop, like so many here, had clearly forgotten...

Author: By Noah Oppenheim, | Title: Remembering Harvard | 5/22/2000 | See Source »

...sister (Connie Nielsen). And as wonderful as Crowe is, the detached nature of his character (mostly the fault of the script) hinders his ability to turn Maximus into a truly mythic hero. The great Hollywood epics all had a sense of sweeping emotional grandeur (when the rebels all yell "Spartacus!" it's a cheesy yet uplifting scene) which is noticeably absent from Scott's film, which is more of a relentless, almost mechanical, exercise in blood sports. The end result is a movie that's exciting yet empty, visually gorgeous yet emotionally barren. As big-budget action films go, Gladiator...

Author: By William Gienapp, | Title: Antiquity Roadshow | 5/5/2000 | See Source »

...long time, I've overcompensated for my lack of manliness through sportswriting, porn watching and stock buying, but deep down I know I'm a little shy on T. I cannot yell at other drivers, raise my voice, pick up women in a bar or grow a full beard. All whiskey, no matter how expensive, just tastes like burning. Yet deep inside I long to sleep around, to kick some ass, to release my first rap album. As I saw it, I had little choice but to score some of that testosterone gel when it comes out this summer...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: I Bled For This Column | 4/24/2000 | See Source »

...toss his tapas and miss the flight. I've had my own little cycle of tolerance and rejection with the Northeast since I first came here from Texas four years ago. As a first-year, I loved Boston because it was a new experience. "More sleet!" I would yell. "More scrod! Wicked! Wicked! Wicked!" Sophomore year, I saw a downside--that accent was really not just an elaborate ruse. Now, in my senior year, I'm watching my friends take jobs in New York and Boston, and it seems these places are unavoidable on the path to success. Problem...

Author: By David A. Fahrenthold, | Title: There's No Place Like home | 4/4/2000 | See Source »

...different kind of bonding when I was with all guys on a carrier," he says. "We didn't have to worry about offending people--everyone swore." But then he worked with a female colleague on a fire drill. "I found out that I didn't have to yell to get her to do something," he says. Another difference: modesty prevails. "You can't walk around in your underwear anymore," notes Signalman Second Class Terry Cole...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Aye, Aye, Ma'am | 3/27/2000 | See Source »

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