Looking for the Jackalope (2016) is the second film I have found (and probably ever) that was filmed on Kenyon’s campus, so of course, the parallels others have found with Liberal Arts are inevitable. Too in this movie, do we see (tell me those five little words) “a disenchanted New York writer” travel back to Not-Kenyon College to relive his nostalgic glory days of college and come to terms with his disappointing adulthood. (Too also is there a brief but questionable relationship with a teenage girl who acts as surrogate for a link to the past, but we’ll get into that in a minute.) Written and directed by Karl Shefelman (class of ’80), our protagonist is named Jordan Sterling, but in the subtitles they said Jordan Voiceover a lot, so our protagonist is named Jordan Voiceover. He is a writer working on his second novel, and living a very nice life in a very nice apartment in New York City. He’s recently divorced, and hangs out primarily with his sassy literary agent who says things over fruity drinks in chic gentrified bars that only people in movies say like “You need to. Get. Laid.” (Erica points out that this is probably the first time the woman playing his agent has said that in her life.) I really don’t feel bad for this man at all. He’s a writer who has made it for God’s sake. He’s doing pretty well.
You will all be happy to know that I am no longer my glittery-skinned self. Indeed, the last speck of the shiny stuff from Deb Ball fell off of my body today. I am finally clean. Bless. That’s the most I can say about this weekend folks. It was a romp and a riot and an altogether jiggle-fest. Here are some candid thoughts from you about this debauchery.
RIP to all the wigs people wore.
I stayed in for the first night of my life, and I didn’t hate it.
The Internet is back after a five-hour outage, and some of us (me) are a little shamefaced about how frantic we got last night (passing the Market around 8 p.m., I mused “Wow, I bet lines are going to be out the door,” at which point a friend reminded me that an Internet blackout is not the same thing as an actual blackout, and people don’t tend to start stocking up on canned goods and bottled water simply because they can’t get onto Hulu to watch “The Only Way is Essex.”)
Maybe you’re a better person than me and don’t feel quite as incapacitated by a five-hour loss of high-speed WiFi — maybe you’re not. Either way, sound off below!
One of these days, the sun will finally come out in Ohio, and spring will arrive. Students will flock to South Quad to day-drink, take their Peirce meals on the lawn, and some jerks will even bring out their guitars. Until that day comes, however, the majority of our social interactions at Kenyon will take place indoors. The notable exception to this rule is the Middle Path encounter.
Guys, social interaction is hard. As noted in last night’s list, awkward encounters are waiting around every corner. There is very little worse that can happen in a day at Kenyon (for me, anyway) than a terrifying Middle Path meeting. Beyond the daily crises (at what distance do I acknowledge that I’ve seen them? How far apart should we be before I say something? etc, etc) there are certain people on campus who you do NOT want to talk to, and oh my god they’re heading your way right now. Quick! What do you do?
We’ve all been there because we all do our laundry (hopefully). And I know there are often complaints about the sanitary conditions/smell/price of Kenyon laundry rooms, but sometimes you find a nice surprise in your laundry basket that totally overshadows all of these other complaints. Laundry sucks. But count yourself lucky if none of these things end up in your basket:
The Thrill is proud to spotlight an original personal essay courtesy of one of our daily editors, Kate Lindsay ’15.
If you had asked me on my first day at Kenyon what things I thought I would be doing during my time here, taking naked pictures of myself in the woods would not have been high on the list. I was a reluctant introvert, someone who wanted to have stories to tell, but couldn’t bring herself to say yes. Which is why I promised myself that at college it was going to be different. I was going to get out of my comfort zone and try new things. There is no better place to do this than at Kenyon.
As a part of my new can-do attitude, this semester I signed up for my first ever art class, Digital Imaging. I figured I would take it, squeeze out a bit of creativity I didn’t know I had, learn from it, and move on. But as it turned out, I really struggled with my first assignment. I just couldn’t see things the way the other art students could. Every time I tried something, it felt constrained, and this was reflected in my grades.
Our current project is based on magic realism. I had the idea to play with visually representing insecurities, and wanted to have my friends pose, and then make it look as if their diary entries were written on their skin. When I pitched this idea to my professor, she told me she had another thought. What if it was just me, just my diary entry, on my naked skin? I paused.
Did she really think it was necessary for me to be naked?