We are pirates. Nice ones, but still with the cutlasses and cannons.
To attach too much utility to fun is to fundamentally misunderstand fun. True fun always has an element of nonfunctionality to it. That is, the most real fun is fun because there’s no good reason to do it.
OK. Hey. Just forget all that. Go outside and play. Time for recess, take a break. Head to the lake. “School’s out for summer!” Do something fun.
“Say it ain’t so.” And maybe that reported exchange between a young boy and Chicago White Sox player Shoeless Joe Jackson, among the players accused of conspiring with gamblers to lose the 1919 World Series, ain’t accurate. Evidence suggests, Charles Fountain writes in his new book, The Betrayal: The 1919 World Series and the Birth of Modern Baseball, that a reporter “made it up.”
Ah, science fiction. The perfect vehicle for contemplating the undergraduate condition.
Almost 70 years had passed since Captain Charles D. Stapleton was killed in action. The white cross offers very few clues of the life so honored there. Etched into the stone cross is Captain Stapleton’s name and rank and home state. That’s it. But it’s not quite where this story begins.
Ever since my appointment as a Missionary of Mercy in February, I have received several hundred emails and notes and phone calls congratulating me, promising prayers and asking questions. Most people don’t know quite what to say.
Frustrated with the consistent dysfunction of the Haitian government — and, often, of the institutions I work with — I’ve decided to leave an organization I’ve worked for on and off for 12 years and launch a new organization called Equal Health International.
As I sat in my window seat aboard a turbo-prop plane operated by Red Carpet Airlines, I saw a steady drip, drip, drip of oil falling from the right engine onto the tarmac. This was the spring of 1979 and I was part of a U.S. athletics delegation headed to Havana.
At Notre Dame athletics has always been a very big deal. And Games the Irish Play: The History of Non Varsity and Recreational Sport at the University of Notre Dame is a very big book, providing a thorough history of nonvarsity and recreational sports at Notre Dame, from 1842 right up to the present.
Welcome to Molarity Redux, the continuing adventures of Jim Mole and friends. Providence is the best insurance, but it doesn’t offer complete coverage.
As research strengthens the connection between football and head trauma, the sport’s inherent dangers cast a lengthening shadow.
The weekend opened early Friday evening with one of my dad’s go-to jokes. The one I’ve heard 100 times, but that everyone else finds hilarious when hearing it the first time.
A literature professor who teaches about the U.S.-Mexico border reflects on the troubled lives and deaths of would-be migrants — from the southern side of the desert wall built to keep them out.
Liam Neeson asked us to hold our applause as he prepared to recite W.B. Yeats’ poem “Easter 1916” and introduce the Keough-Naughton Institute’s forthcoming documentary about the Irish rebellion.
On Ash Wednesday 2016, the author was in Rome to receive Pope Francis’ commission as a Missionary of Mercy. We asked him to tell us what that means.
I have no reason to care about James Rebanks, or his sheep, his devoted sheepdogs, his adorable children or the pastoral lands of his ancestors. Still, I’ve followed him with rapt attention, seeking out his Twitter feed and, now, his memoir on his family, his farm, his way of life.
Morrison Schwartzer: Working class hero? Or just a jealous guy?
Father Hesburgh’s strength was discerning the proper path through the most vexing challenges, then having the savvy to get the job done.
Even though he left the University presidency in 1987, there was nothing retiring about the home stretch of a life always lived to the fullest.
One defining statement of the Notre Dame ethos was preceded by a fit of late-night anger.
Father Hesburgh’s clear vision and moral stance made him one of the most respected voices in American higher education — especially through the turbulence that rocked both campus and culture.
In his 35 years at the helm, Father Hesburgh transformed Notre Dame into an institution of international distinction, shoving and steering a place smartly described as a university trying to keep up with its president.
A proponent of the “Great Man Theory,” which holds that history can be explained by the impact of highly influential men who use their power to effect change, would find confirmation in the life of astronomer William Herschel. A proponent of the “Behind every great man is a great woman” theory would find confirmation in his younger sister, Caroline.
Jake Page was good for me. He wrote often and well for this magazine, and that writing not only entertained and informed our readers but also set an example for others — like myself — to emulate as writers, essayists, students of the world.
Ten revolutionary ideas? We asked a writer to make a list and this is what we got.
Welcome to Molarity Redux, the continuing adventures of Jim Mole and friends. Mitch wants a new drug.
Last Sunday morning, like so many devout Notre Dame football fans, I read with sadness that Johnny Lattner had passed away. My reaction to the news surprised me, because my feelings about Lattner’s death had nothing to do with football — which said everything about him as a person.