Choose Your Own Pomona Memories
By Jacob Ganz
Opinions Associate
To compensate for the wide variety of student experiences here, Ive included multiple options so that you might customize this article to make it your own. Just pick the word in the parentheses that best fits your own personal experience, then sit back and let the memories wash over you.
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New Email System Sucks For Chelsea
The following is an edited chat transcript from the last days of the VMS system. Michael Lieberman 01 and Vi Ha 00 are former Provençe editors. As of two years ago, Kevin Casuga is a distinguished Pomona College dropout. The names are made up, but the problems are real.
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Science Cannot Save Us From Ourselves
By Peter Cook
Opinions Editor
I would like to discuss two interrelated issues: technologys inability to rescue us from technology, and the worthlessnes of programs geared toward alleviating societal difficulties. They are interrelated in that both represent attempts to treat symptoms, not causes.
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Recent Campaigns Show Campus Politics to be a Bit Fishy
By Jonathan Vanasco
Contributing Writer
ASPC elections run like clockwork. About the same time every year people sign up to run, throw up some posters, say the same bullshit in Frank and let people vote on them. The next year, the same thing happens: the same people run, the same speeches are made, and the same posters go up.
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Presidents Ignoring Social Responsibility
By Amy Wood
Contributing Writer
In college, professors teach us to exhaustively analyze a situation and to consider it from all possible angles. We hold these incessant discussions to be the pinnacle of learning, of higher education.
However, these conversations continue to such an extent only because the majority of students and professors are sheltered from the reality of whatever topic is studied.
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Get Me Out of Here Right Now
By Scott LaBoda
Opinions Associate
The degeneration of logic to its stupidest form: 1) There is lots of work at Pomona; 2) I hate work; 3) There is no work at home; 4) I want to go home. There you have it, the end product of $33,000 and seven months of suffering. All my intellectual abilities have reduced to a singular, slack-jawed expression: "I want out!"
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