I picked up Mrs. Bixby’s Last Day when looking for a book for my kids to read. They weren’t interested in it and, because the book’s premise is a middle-school teacher who has cancer and not long to live. Still, my kids are in middle school and death is something worth thinking about and one of the cover blurbs said, “Kids won’t just love this book. They need it.” It’s been a hit.
Welcome to Molarity Redux, the continuing adventures of Jim Mole and friends, dissidents in the land of continual process improvement.
The National Football League draws a lot of negative attention when it comes to concussions and player safety, but I would argue the NFL is better equipped to deal with these issues than the college game. Two controversies within four days in the early season make the point.
Parade magazine reported in its September 9th issue that 10 percent of college grads polled thought Judge Judy was on the U.S. Supreme Court, but it was an actual Supreme Court justice, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, who showed up on campus on September 12th to address Notre Dame students and members of the public.
What is a conservative to do this November? Trump? Or, “#NeverTrump”? Those questions drew an estimated 300 people to a packed LaFortune Ballroom last Friday.
At the beginning of class the other day, I circulated a questionnaire for the 26 duly-enrolled Millennial Domers in my course on American Political and Media Culture. Besides wanting to know their partisan and ideological preferences, their pushing-70 teacher wanted to gauge student opinion about contemporary political figures and this year’s presidential free-for-all from the anonymous surveys.
“Notre Dame has had so many great legends and great men.” A lot of them are looking down on me as Jim Augustine of Augie’s Locker Room tells me this.
The Haitian doctors’ strike ended last week and it is unclear if there are any winners. The conditions in which the striking doctors work are appalling and the low pay was galling, but without the doctors, hospitals shut their doors and the poor were left to take care of their own illnesses and injuries for nearly five months.
Sorting through my home office always turns up pleasant surprises, including books I really should read now that they’ve emerged from long-ignored stacks. The timing was especially fortunate this summer because my rediscovered Living Gently in a Violent World: The Prophetic Witness of Weakness offers an antidote to the toxins exploding all over the news.
Parietals? It’s settled law. See Justice Machiavelli writing for the majority in Mitch v. University of Notre Dame (1981).
“It is possible that a year ago some of you might have not even heard the term ‘Brexit,’” Notre Dame political science Professor A. James McAdams said last Monday, kicking off a panel discussion of the United Kingdom’s democratic decision in June to leave the European Union. As a matter of fact, I had.
Stepping inside the Basilica of the Sacred Heart is like showing up at a family reunion in full swing. The Basilica’s walls and ceiling are crammed with images of the Catholic family in paint and stained glass: Saints and martyrs, prophets and patriarchs, so many forebears of the faith.
Every four years Americans learn anew that a presidential election is less a national fencing match than an array of brass-knuckle fistfights in a few select states.
People often think the Parable of the Workers in the Vineyard is about the generosity of the landowner. Hardly.
I was introduced to Winesburg, Ohio as part of Notre Dame’s American Studies curriculum. Over the past 40 years, I’ve been to Anderson’s fictional Winesburg and back a couple dozen more times, and I’ve enjoyed the chance to roam those streets.
For two years straight, my wife and I made the rounds to all the Welcome Weekend activities, meals and presentations. It was all very informative, very reassuring. But I’ll tell you, nothing could top those first enthusiastic greetings we received as we pulled into the parking-lot staging areas for drop-off.
Hush, hush. Keep it down now. Voices carry.
How do you hear the start of another academic year at Notre Dame? After Thursday, I think there’s only one way: The March Out of the Band of the Fighting Irish.
Nearly everyone in Shakespeare’s The Tempest is imprisoned by illusions, and the Notre Dame Shakespeare Festival’s production of it is full of them. But as director West Hyler points out, breaking free of illusions requires something beyond violent struggle and a desire for retribution.
When historians write their accounts of the 2016 presidential campaign, they will be able to rely on adjectives with the prefix “un” to explain what happened during the hurly-burly nominating and general election seasons.
Earlier today, quite by chance, I ran into another Missionary of Mercy. He was here at Notre Dame leading a workshop. We both recognized that this Jubilee Year of Mercy has been a tremendous gift and blessing from God. And people don’t want it to end.
When I picked up Good Omens, I expected the sharp satire of Pratchett and the insightful world-building of Gaiman. I expected laugh-out-loud humor and quieter, more thoughtful moments. I didn’t expect a profound statement on human nature, free will and the miracle of everyday life. But that’s what I got.
Remember 1981, when Molarity predicted the implosion of an offensive, impulsive and irresponsible presidential candidate?
It’s here. It took ten years of planning, nail-biting and hopeful angst at Notre Dame; three-and-a-half years of designing, pipe casting and precision carpentry at the Paul Fritts workshop in Tacoma, Washington; and a cross-country journey of some 2,100 miles spanning three time zones and the Continental Divide. Now, at last, the Murdy Family Organ has reached its permanent home inside the Basilica of the Sacred Heart.
It may be, as my father warned me on the eve of my marriage — marriage being an apt metaphor for the indissoluble relationship among the races in America — that the very struggle to achieve the common understanding that eludes us is intensifying our frustrations.
Two months out of college, and six weeks into the corporate world — I’m now officially “adulting.” I’m by definition a grown-up, living, working, playing on my own in Chicago.
“Friends, Romans, Countrymen!” Christy Burgess calls, raising one arm to command attention. “Lend me your ears!” the students shout back. And thus does one of Shakespeare’s most memorable lines settle Shakespeare summer campers at Notre Dame.
Now that the Republican and Democratic national conventions are history, one common denominator of the 2016 presidential campaign stands out in bold relief. Both major parties this fall will be united by high-decibel hatred of the nominee of the other party.
Excerpts from Echoes of ’58: Recollections of the Notre Dame class of 1958. Dave Immonen and George Navadel treasure bygone financial matters.