When you do something wrong, admit it. If you’re sorry, act like it. There seems to be a discrepancy here so to clarify, here’s a dose of realism: If you mess up and apologize, only to turn around and gloat over your mistake, your apology is void. In fact, don’t even bother.
The legacy of America’s war on terrorism and subsequent Middle Eastern involvement will be one of ambiguous strategic aims combined with piercing hypocrisy. Our outrage over human rights is selective, and often ephemeral. America will blithely invade unfriendly countries such as Afghanistan and Iraq to “liberate” their oppressed citizens by deposing of autocracy. However, we turn a blind eye to a Palestinian human rights crisis intentionally started by Israel, or on a more horrific scale, Saudi Arabia’s massacre of Yemenis. At least, though, America’s attitude toward Saudi Arabia has ranged from wary to critical. The same cannot be said for our current government’s unwavering and wholehearted support for Israel, a country which, in recent months has proved itself to be corrupt and shamefully violent.
It’s 8 p.m. on a Friday, my freshman year of college, and a text lights up my phone.
Before arriving at Miami, I was nervous. I started watching “College Tips” videos by the thousands. Some talked about the right mattress topper to buy; others talked about different ways to meet new people. They all talked about the Freshman Fifteen.
This past semester, I screamed at someone so loudly for so long that I lost my voice for a week. Since arriving on campus last fall, I have tried to fight at least 50 people. I’ve gotten so worked up over the lack of pie in the dining hall that I have actually burst into tears, leaving my friends clueless, uncomfortable and slightly amused — a mix of emotions that they would soon come to easily recognize.
Coming off a week of relaxation, good food and laundry machines that actually work, the return to Oxford can only mean one thing – we have to be responsible again. A few weeks ago, sitting around on a Sunday meant planning how we were going to spend our week of freedom. Now that we’re back, Sundays mean cramming homework and dreading the weeks ahead.
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