University of North Carolina
Last spring, Swarthmore joined the growing list of prestigious colleges induced to rewrite their sexual misconduct policies after students told the federal government the schools belittled their reports of assault.
"He has his hand in his waistband," George Zimmerman told the 911 dispatcher in Sanford, Fla., shortly before he shot and killed Trayvon Martin. "He has something in his hand.” Presumably Zimmerman thought that "something" was a gun. But Martin was unarmed. It hardly exculpates Zimmerman to suggest that he thought Martin might be armed, because he was a neighborhood watch volunteer, not a cop, and he followed Martin even after the dispatcher specifically instructed him not to. But it's interesting to consider his case in light of a 2006 study by B.
The bomber carried balloons. They were silver and purple, and when he stepped inside the parking garage, they flitted and danced around his head—obscuring his face, as well as his intentions. It was October 2008, just after 4:30 on a Wednesday afternoon, and the workers in the office tower above the garage in suburban St. Louis were still at their desks. Only surveillance cameras saw the man with the balloons as he hurriedly walked to the parking space marked “654,” knelt down, and placed a wicker basket next to the driver’s side door of a late model Acura TL.
By Beltway standards, Richard Burr’s first term in the Senate has been a pretty successful one. Elected in 2004 after serving ten years in the House, Burr was one of the “Magnificent Seven,” a slate of new conservative senators. A mere four years later, the North Carolina lawmaker was mentioned as a possible running mate for John McCain. And, last year, he took on a key leadership role (chief deputy whip). In his home state, however, Burr is anything but a star.
On the basketball courts of New York City, there may be no truer measure of a player's stature than his nickname. If a player is considered good, then his moniker will be something straightforward: "Pee Wee" if he is short; "Lefty" if he shoots with that hand. But if a player is viewed as great, then his talent can actually inspire poetry. He will be called "Half-Man Half-Amazing" for his superhuman dunks or "Skip to My Lou" for the way he hopscotches down the court as he dribbles past hapless opponents.
I'm afraid the answer is yes--at least if you consider college basketball's best team, the University of North Carolina Tar Heels. (Hey, check the polls if you don't believe me.) Although UNC travels by air to most of its away games, it still has a North Carolina-based charter bus--and its driver, Dave Harder--meet the team at the location, since Carolina Coach Roy Williams apparently doesn't trust other bus drivers to ferry the team from the airport to the hotel and then to the arena.
Everyone who watched this summer's race for College Republican National Committee (CRNC) chair with any detachment has a favorite moment of chutzpah they admire in spite of themselves. Leading the count are the following: speaking sotto voce of your opponent's "homosexuality"; rigging the delegate count so that states that support your candidate have twice as many votes as those that don't; and using a sitting congressman to threaten the careers of undecided voters. I can understand the perverse appeal of each of these incidents.