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Chapman Caddell

Dispatch from a Kashgar kitchen

Value-neutrality’s the new value. You’re flipping screens between low-depth content on The New York Times, mostly headlines and photographs, and a Google Calendar that looks like the Post-it Note of a psychedelic nightmare. You think you’ll go to Goldman for a few years to equip yourself with the tools to liberate the huddled masses (that…

I am convinced my bulb is perfect

I had my first run-in with the infinite bulb most of the way through “Gravity’s Rainbow.” His name is/was “Byron.” This was before I began to suspect that I owned Byron. Just to give you enough to keep you reading, I suspect that I’m on to something because my bulb is a 1920s, old-style incandescent…

The FoHo let us down

I’ve always been a loyal reader and admirer of the FoHo. This week, that changed. For once, I have a personal stake: I know Professor John Donohue well. I’ve counted Aidan Donohue, ’19, son of the accused, among my closest friends ever since we took high school physics. So it’s difficult for me to take…

Get out the (blue) vote

Three deans wrote an op-ed last week—the first of several to come—that ended with all the sound and fury of a third-grade social studies textbook: “[V]ote for the party and candidate of your choice, but by all means vote.” Superficially signifying nothing. But what if there’s a not-so-hidden message behind this greatest-generation bull about civic…

Sehnsucht bulletins

On a midnight voyage, Searching for my pleasure; Reaching with my mind for something I’ve dreamed.   Cam and I hit the road going north and west toward the middle-end of July. Cam’s a victim of the systematic monosyllabification of America’s youth, but facile oversimplification, naturally, is a treasured American pastime. I occasionally have to…
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