In America you can make something out of nothing. People all over the country wake up each morning and work hard and feed kids. They work hard and they succeed. Anyone can be anything in America. This is what James Goldman ‘27 and William Sachs ‘25 learned this summer working at Goldman Sachs.
Continue reading “James Goldman and William Sachs Find Surprising Success at Goldman Sachs Internship”
It is well known that once a young boy reaches the age of maturity, his voice loses its ‘boyish’ charm. In the Renaissance, when women were not allowed to sing in public (seduction and whatnot) and boys had to perform the female roles, this presented quite a challenge. Luckily, European opera aficionados came up with an ingenious solution. When a boy neared the age of maturity, his testicles were crushed and thus his voice never dropped, and that delicate soprano tone was preserved. These boys were called castrati. Due to the brutality of castrating a prepubescent boy, this practice has largely fallen out of favor.
Continue reading “The Meddiebempsters will not be castrating a first-year boy for the first time in 123 years “The Mt. Ararat gym is legendary stuff for Cumberland County voting enthusiasts. I pulled my PT Cruiser up to the tennis courts at 6:47 and was finished writing in candidates by 6:58. Be warned that they do have plastic covering the hardwood floor, making it hard to get a proper pickup game going. If you bring your own ball you can get some shots up after submitting your ballot, but watch out for the slightly tall rims.
Continue reading “I Voted at All Seven Polling Locations in Cumberland County—These Were My Top Five”
by STAFF WRITER | Feb 2nd, 2024
As a young Jewish boy growing up in New York City, there were many places throughout the city that served as cultural landmarks for my religious identity. My synagogue blocks away from our apartment. The 2nd Ave Deli where we would frequent on weekends. The tunnel beneath the Chabad-Lubavitch global headquarters in Crown Heights.
Continue reading “An Ode to the New York Synagogue Tunnels”by RITZ BORDIA | Jan 25th, 2024
After a season-long struggle with ice-covered slopes, the Bowdoin Alpine Ski Team has taken matters into their own hands—or rather, their own snow machines. The decision to manufacture their winter wonderland came to fruition during their weekly Thursday night Bolos trip, where the team gathered to discuss the dire need for a more traditional skiing experience.
“We were tired of pretending we were auditioning for a figure skating competition every time we hit the slopes,” remarked a team captain with a twirl and triple axel on the metaphorical ice they have been dealing with. “It was time to bring back the fluffy white stuff that makes skiing, well, skiing.”
Armed with determination and a singular STEM major, the team embarked on a mission to create the perfect snow. The concoction has been affectionately named “Powder-on-the-Go” by its members and is quickly spreading across the campus.
“We’re basically pioneers of the snow frontier,” said the closest thing to a scientist the team has (an EOS major). “Since they go to a safety school, the Colby Ski Club may have given up, but not us Bears!”
Due to an unfortunate YikYak leak, this special “Powder-on-the-Go” recipe has been released. Doing my due diligence, and in an effort of transparency, I have provided this recipe but have been told I am not legally allowed to tell you the exact proportions (but, hint, just, like, go look at YikYak).
Ingredients:
Recipe:
With love,
A Bowdoin ski and ride member
This article is being monitored by Homeland Security.
by TYLER DEANE | Feb 8th, 2024
Do you ever wonder where your daily apple from Fast Track comes from? When you crunch on a cucumber from the Thorne salad bar, do you think, “where did this meal start its journey?” It most likely did not start at the Bowdoin Organic Garden. This past fall harvest left something to be desired for those who rely on the BOG’s fruitful exports.
The Sustainability Office, I think, runs the garden, where they grow a vast array of crops right next to the maintenance vehicle parking spot behind Osher Hall. The plants produced here are used as the sole food source for a small group of BOC adjacent kids who till the half-acre plot each season Their scraps turn into the steamed vegetables you passed up at Moulton in favor of ghost pepper mac and cheese.
With the worldwide climate reaching indisputable never-before-seen extremes (allegedly) and the squirrels being extra hungry this year, this growing season was one of the most pitiful on record. This has led to sorrowful consequences, including the deaths of two of the aforementioned farmers, Nalgene McMassachusetts (‘26) and Brian “My dad is a Boeing executive” Calhoun (‘24). Even more horrific, the dining halls now have exclusively store bought hot sauce. The leaders of the garden have decided that to ensure their cornucopias never run dry again, they will be implementing the use of MiracleGro and a guy named Jebediah with a chin beard (pictured below) to stand out there and watch over the land.
by STAFF WRITER | Feb 8th, 2024
Valentine’s Day is stressful for single students; you haven’t talked to your marriage pact since last semester, your campus crush would just be a hail mary, and Bax basement isn’t exactly the place to find love. Most end up spending the Day with their single peers, but this February, Bowdoin’s lesbian population is taking a more resourceful approach. Conveniently, Bowdoin is home to more than one population of mullets and Blundstones. That’s right—those struggling with the female demographic are opting for the next best thing: BOC men.
“Sometimes I can’t even tell the difference,” said one first-year, blaming the common BOC wardrobe of short-sleeve button-down shirts and cargo pants. “Honestly, I’ve accidentally hit on them a few times in the College Houses.” The two groups also conveniently have overlapping interests; our sources report spotting the new “couples” bouldering, working on their Subarus, and comparing Nalgene stickers.
But soon enough, they will come to terms with reality. A few shared vegetarian meals may ease the pain of a lonely Valentine’s Day, but BOC men will never replace the real thing. Nonetheless, we at the Harpoon hope this serves as a reminder that we’re more alike than we think. Lesbians, if you see a BOC man around campus, give him a tip of your five-panel hat. And we’re sure he’ll tip his back.
by STAFF WRITER | Feb 1st, 2024
By one of the thirty women you know who just got back from their semester in Europe
Last semester, I studied abroad in [insert bougie country here], and here are some things I absolutely did not miss about Bowdoin:
There are, however, some things I did actually miss about Bowdoin:
by ISA FERNANDEZ | Feb 2nd, 2024
That’s right folks, you heard it here first: the worst person you know is applying to be a tour guide. Admissions desperately needed to diversify their staff after realizing that not every POC student could lead a tour, and was forced to turn to that one guy in your class that just LOVES to hear himself speak. You know the one. The one that raises his hand, speaks for a solid 90 seconds and then only kinda asks a question. The one that goes on and on about “the good old days” when his dad went here and frats were still around and women weren’t allowed in BSG. I know. It’s a sad, sad day for us Bears. God help those poor high school seniors who are gonna have to hear about how he used to live on Moore fourth, and how cool his proctor was, and how he totally could’ve gotten with her if she wasn’t a raging bitch. And GOD FORBID one of those stupid parents asks about sports teams. Because then they’re gonna have to hear about how he would’ve gone D1 for swimming if he hadn’t almost drowned that one time so he had to settle for leading those weekday kayak sessions at the BOC. Please, I beg of you, apply for the tour guide position. Literally anyone is better than this fucking guy.
by STAFF WRITER | Jan 30th, 2024
This past weekend I did something that I never thought I’d do: have sex. I know what you’re thinking, a hot sexy guy like me (take my word for it) with a quick wit and a kind heart (I promise) should have no problem finding someone to copulate with. Sadly, it seems that the old adage is true: nice guys always finish last. That is, until this weekend. I was posted up at lighthouse chatting up an absolute ten from my writing seminar, and I worked up the courage to ask her to come back to my room. And get this… she said yes! On the walk back, however, a terrible realization crossed my mind: I don’t have any condoms. “That should be no problem,” an average observer such as yourself might think, “Your proctor definitely has a whole array of sex-related paraphernalia at the ready.” I was once so naïve. As I approached my proctor’s door, I reached into what I thought was the condom bowl only to come out with a handful of candy. Who replaces a condom bowl with a candy bowl?!? Nevertheless, I was determined to finally lose my v-card, so I knew I had to get creative. I opened up a pack of whoppers and I had a revelation. This small, cylindrical wrapper might have been made for three chocolate balls, but that night they would be used for other balls. Luckily, I’m not the most well-endowed fellow (I’m on track), so it was a perfect fit. We ended up having the best thirteen seconds of my life followed by three and a half minutes of cuddling before I kicked her out. All in all, I wouldn’t recommend a whopper wrapper condom, but it’ll do in a pinch. Stay safe out there, bears.
The Bowdoin Harpoon 