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.
Netflix's new series, "Trump: An American Dream," narrates the character development of our current president. It unravels Trump's ascension in the business world through sketchy deals with local politicians, his accumulation of wealth and his short-lived downfall through foolhardy deals. All of this leads to the crescendo of him announcing his bid for the White House in Trump Tower. Interviews with those from Trump's past (his chauffeurs, friends and former employees) reveal an intimate portrait of the man behind the catchphrase: "You're fired"
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.
The following reflects the majority opinion of the editorial board.
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.
Sadie Albright, 21, spent most of last Friday afternoon deliberating which pair of leggings she should wear to Netflix and Chill that night.
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.
The following reflects the majority opinion of the editorial board.
Almost every female Miami University student reports that they are sorry. Not for anything in particular, most of them were quick to clarify -- just in general.
My senior year of high school, sitting at the kitchen table, I paged through a Miami brochure. A student quote caught my attention.
Since its founding in 1809, Miami University has failed to cultivate a culture that is welcoming and receptive for its Black students. Historically, the actions taken by administration, while recognized, simply are not enough. We, the Black Action Movement 2.0 (BAM 2.0), on behalf of Miami University's Black community, are holding administration accountable for effectively combating the issues plaguing its Black students. Therefore, these are our demands.
A few days before we left for break, Miami University's Symphony Orchestra put on "The Two Titans," a powerful concert presenting both Beethoven's Piano Concerto No. 1 and Mahler's Symphony No. 1, "Titan." As I looked around me in Hall Auditorium during that concert, I saw hundreds concentrating on Beethoven's abrupt harmonic shifts and Mahler's magnificent symphonic form. Not everyone was enraptured -- in fact, I spotted several slumped heads sleeping through the heavenly performance.
The following reflects the majority opinion of the editorial board.