In this summer history course, debates over monuments (and murals) come out of the headlines and into the classroom.
Father Sorin tells his story.
I haven’t always read comic books. It wasn’t until just after I graduated from Notre Dame, when I became a managing editor for the now-defunct DestroyTheCyb.org and started a column called “Comic Virgins.” Each week or two, I’d read a few new comics from a particular series and write up my thoughts.
Galactic archaeology digs into the origins of the universe.
The Food Lab: Better Home Cooking Through Science doesn’t have a single recipe within the first 80 pages. Instead, J. Kenji López-Alt takes his time talking about what knives, tools and other kitchen accoutrement you need and why. It’s only after that he turns to breakfast (my personal favorite meal of the day) and spends 44 pages just on eggs.
Notre Dame fencer Lee Kiefer, the first American woman ever ranked No. 1 in the world, foils her competition.
When I was a child, I complained every time my grandfather listened to NPR in the car. I didn’t want to listen to adults talk about adult things like news and politics — I wanted to listen to The Backstreet Boys. Now, I still listen to The Backstreet Boys, but I’m also now addicted to talk radio and, by extension, podcasts.
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.
I have climbed the Everest of the book world. I want to use phrases like “howling fantods” in conversation. I want to understand what the hell I just read. But most of all, I want Infinite Jest to never end.
Jack Heinrich has a legacy story at Notre Dame — a legacy of transfer students. “My aunt transferred in, and so did my grandfather,” the junior says. “All the members of my family who went here transferred.”