I lived primarily off two things when I had a meal plan: Gator Dining chocolate chip cookies and unlimited pineapple.
I thought I might write something about Friday’s horrific scenes from Paris. I thought I’d write about how we could use this to take events in the Middle East seriously from a humanitarian perspective without falling into the obvious trap the Islamic State group has set for us, whereby we abandon the very multiculturalism and tolerance that has made the West a place of relative peace and security. It’s these very attitudes the huddled masses who flee ISIS’ apocalyptic cruelty yearn for. And, while writing, I could hope in vain that far-right, Eurosceptic freaks won’t ride a wave of nationalist reaction and ethnic resentment into office, dismantling the diplomatic structures that have maintained relative peace in Europe for 70 short years (not counting a genocide against Muslims in Bosnia). I would also really like it if, when vicious goons like Marine Le Pen and Nigel Farage lead their gangs into parliament halls, they wouldn’t plunge the world into a second Dark Age, complete with our very own crusades.
Earlier this year, Martin Shkreli, the CEO of Turing Pharmaceuticals, increased the cost of a life-saving HIV drug by about 5,000 percent. The price raised from $13.50 per pill to $750 per pill.
A frequent refrain among heartbroken and sexually frustrated young men: "She doesn’t like me because I’m a nice guy." No, not really.
I love the phrase "Every Gator Matters." It expresses the value of every member of the Gator family and our care for one another.
About two weeks ago, America was hit with the horrifying story of Jeremy Mardis. Mardis was a 6-year-old boy who was shot to death by two police officers while riding in the car with his father in Marksville, Louisiana. Mardis’ father, Chris Few, had no outstanding warrants for his arrest, nor was there a gun found in Few’s vehicle. This information begs the question: Why were shots fired by police in the first place?
Last week, students under the banner of the Million Student March demonstrated on college campuses across the country. There was even a demonstration at UF, although only about a dozen marchers actually showed up. Regardless, the collective demands of the protestors were clear: tuition-free public college, $15 minimum wage and the cancellation of all student debt.
When I was deciding my career as a little girl, full of blind naiveté and enthusiasm for a world that seemed so clearly ready to catapult me to stardom, there were a lot of options on the list. My aspirations ranged from ballerina to doctor to orange-truck driver over the years, but there was one job that kept coming up in the mix, no matter how many years passed: I wanted to be a writer.
Registering for Spring classes is a perpetually stressful experience. Just in case the mid-semester deluge of papers, exams and self-doubt wasn’t enough, you also have to effectively plan four months’ worth of classes (assuming you’ll make it through December alive). While this process used to make me feel as though I had some aspect of my life under control, it has recently become an unavoidable and highly involved burden.
About two months ago, I wrote a column about the plight of 9/11 first responders and the progress of the James Zadroga 9/11 Health and Compensation Reauthorization Act.
The free world continues to weep for Paris this week.
The Supreme Court has agreed to hear a case on Texas’ House Bill 2 — a bill that resulted in half of the state’s abortion clinics being closed. The law is a threat to the rights of low-income women in Texas. As the Supreme Court prepares to hear one of its first abortion cases in a while, it must consider the motivations behind such restrictions. Given abortion is a low-complication procedure, many of the restrictions are unnecessary and serve only to make it difficult for women to get an abortion.
This has been a year of magical thinking.
You’ve heard the complaints. We’re lazy and entitled, and when we aren’t staring at a screen, we’re staring at ourselves. We’re millennials, and we’re pretty unpopular.
My worst nightmare came true Friday. It was about 15 minutes after meeting my partner’s mom for the first time. We were walking down the street to the Homecoming parade when someone handed us a copy of the Alligator.
This column concerns the events which transpired at the University of Missouri on Monday. No doubt you’re familiar with it already — along with the heresy of plain red cups, the Mizzou story has captured the country’s imagination.
In 1902, two years before he became UF’s first president, Andrew Sledd lost his faculty position at Emory University in Georgia because he spoke out against racism.
This past October, we witnessed a stark readjustment of the U.S. military agenda in the Middle East. On Oct. 30, President Obama announced the U.S. military would, in fact, be putting "boots on the ground" in Syria. Earlier on Oct. 15, the Obama administration announced an extension of the timeline for U.S. military presence in Afghanistan. Through most of next year, 9,800 troops will continue operations, and by Jan. 2017, a residual force of 5,500 troops will remain indefinitely.
"Pride goes before destruction and a haughty spirit before the fall."
It’s an experience we know all too well: innocently scrolling through Facebook, attempting to stay up to date on your friends’ activities and unwillingly being drowned in a sea of useless click-bait articles. You know the type of article I’m talking about: the ones with titles like, "20 Things I Want to Tell My Little," "10 Struggles That Only Girls With Long Hair Will Understand" and "8 Thoughts Every Girl Has When Picking Out a Halloween Costume."
Solutions by The State News
