Opinion

What is a person?

Last year, Notre Dame Right to Life sold T-shirts that said, "A Person's A Person, No Matter How Small." Whatever we believe about abortion, I hope that this cute but profound Dr. Seuss quote made us ask an important question whenever we saw one of those shirts: What is a person?

ND needs to reconsider lawsuit

Earlier this year, the University of Notre Dame, along with 42 other Catholic-affiliated institutions, filed 12 lawsuits against the Department of Health and Human Services, claiming the mandate that these institutions provide contraceptive coverage violated their First Amendment rights.

Feedback from the 4 to 5 Movement

Welcome back from the 4 to 5 Movement!

On experiencing books outdoors

For one Saturday in summer, I read a book in a tree at my grandmother's house. I was never one for climbing trees, unless the sap-sticky scratchy pines beside the tiny church ever counted. Barely bushes, they were long bending branches with so many pieces sticking out that my Sunday School compatriots and I would clamor into the hall minutes before Mass, scraped and sticky, with pine needles mixed with beads of blood (from the roughness of the bark) ruining our clean church clothes. Knowing I was afraid of heights without having ever really experienced heights in actuality, I never had the guts to climb a real tree. I knew the stories about Uncle Carl, my mother's youngest brother, who had been an expert at climbing trees, but less well-versed in the process of getting down from them. Aware, then, that going up a tree also meant getting down from it, I decided against such explorations. The day came, however, that (if I remember right) this tree growing into the side of the fence would be trimmed or otherwise cut down, and as my mother and I examined it reverently, she suggested I sit in it. The notch in which one could sit was not very high up - over my head, but I was small. With some boosting from her or my father, I forget exactly, I found myself settled in the notch between two branches. The sun was shining brightly and the sky was blue and somewhere I could hear a lawn mower (always in Shreveport I could hear a lawn mower). The bark was warm in the sun. Once I was up, I requested my book which my mother had to retrieve. What I was even reading I forget, as I remember paying little attention to it - perhaps a volume collected from Grammy's dusty library shelf. I was more interested in the treeness, of the experience of being-in-tree. I recall that, on the whole, the adventure was short-lived. I realized the tree was not exactly comfortable, that the shapes of the branches formed a seat but not a nice one, that I was tired of reading the book I wasn't really reading and that I would like to do something else like try on dresses in the closet or pick out songs on the piano or find whatever chocolate/ice cream/cookies there were to be found in the house. I demanded to be retrieved and hoisted myself out of that space, where I must have been caught by Daddy or Mom. When I discovered books on tape were sometimes read by the author, I decided that I wanted to hear Madeleine L'Engle read me "A Wrinkle in Time." On first picking up the book, I discovered the protagonist was named Meg, which was all I needed to be interested. In the space of a few pages, I was transported into this great science-fiction-fantasy space in which God was still present and in which there was a space for my Christianity in this brave and beautiful world. From the children's room of the public library I retrieved the tapes I wanted - "A Wrinkle in Time;" later, "A Wind in the Door," though I would fall asleep listening to that one. With my trusty beige and brown tape player/recorder I set up camp on the swingset, placing the thing on the wooden platform by the slide. I was swinging, climbing, hanging upside-down from the metal bar and twisting my hands in the rings as Madeleine L'Engle, grandmotherly, taught me how to properly pronounce things like the name of the Murrays' dog (Fortinbras) and what it meant that Mrs. Which talked LLLIIIIKKKKEEEEETHHHHIIIIISSSSSSS (it was an echo). Caught there between the swings of my swingset and, later, sprawled on a blanket in the open grass as the sun disappeared, I began to feel an autumn chill. I saw myself in some windy New England town, where a little farmy piece of land with landmarks like "the star-watching rock" produced Margaret, Sandy, Denys, and Charles Wallace Murray, and Calvin O'Keefe. With Mrs. L'Engle's calming voice to carry me I rediscovered my backyard. I saw the brick colors of the back patio, the flat roof of the sunroom, the climbing plants that clung to our little green fence, the locks on the gates, the slope down the hill where I had made my fairy-houses, the red clay and light brown mud that I had squished my toes in during a heavy rain on a day on which my mother had felt adventurous as well. I breathed the grass and saw the colors the sky turned as night fell. Contact Margaret Emma Brandl at mbrandl@nd.edu The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer. 

Reverse culture shock

When I was getting ready to go to Nepal, I tried to prepare myself for living in a culture very different from my own. I read about the culture and talked to anyone and everyone I could who had been to Nepal before. I was ready to deal with culture shock. What I wasn't prepared for was the culture shock I would experience when I got home. I got off the plane at O'Hare and made it through customs smoothly. Everything was going fine. And then I had to talk to someone. Hearing English being spoken freaked me out. My first language is English, and it's not like I never heard it in Nepal, but I was so used to the sound of Nepali that hearing English was weird. Then, I noticed just how many white people there were. No joke, when I saw all the blondes with blue eyes, I got nervous. I didn't know how to act. I didn't understand why everyone around me looked like I did. The worst though was going through security. On a normal day, security at O'Hare can make even the most hardened traveler nervous. Well, I was not at my best when I walked into that security line. I was tired from traveling for two days. I was jetlagged out of my mind. I still had a tika (a red mark, made from powder that is a blessing) on my forehead. And I was dressed like a total bohemian hippie, complete with purple MC Hammer parachute pants, looking the part of the traveler returning from South Asia. Just being in line for security was so overwhelming, I started to cry. I already looked like a crazy person from what I was wearing, and the tears did not make it any better. The TSA agents probably thought I was some sort of criminal. Once I made it through security, I barely caught my connecting plane. I didn't leave my culture shock in Chicago; it has followed me to Indianapolis and South Bend. Hot water still freaks me out. Air conditioning makes me so cold, that my lips actually turned blue in class. I think chicken tastes bad, and cheese is a super-weird food. Now, there are definite perks for being back in the U.S. I can get Diet Coke whenever I want. The power doesn't just go off for any reason. I can do laundry in a washing machine and not by hand in my shower. I was ready to come home at the end of the summer. But I had no idea how weird the U.S. would seem. 

Political summer

Wow, what a summer! The advent of each school year ushers in that mundane question, "How was your summer?" Short of the June landmark Supreme Court decision upholding the Affordable Care Act, a.k.a., Obamacare, many from the Notre Dame community experienced a similarly momentous summer. This year's warm weather brought cheers, jeers and lucrative payouts to some alumni, providence and misfortune to others, arrests and unveilings within the football program along with legal wrangling from the administration. Summer was characterized by a collective "wow" factor typically unfelt by so many Domers during one season. Campus administrators bookended their "offseason" by first, filing a religious freedom law suit over healthcare coverage mandates against the federal government the day after graduation. While the University chose for financial reasons to self-insure its healthcare recipients - purely a secular business model decision - somehow administrators want to claim a moral religious freedom objection against providing contraception for non-Catholic and non-Christian employees. What was that adage about giving to Caesar what is Caesar's while holding up Roman coins? In mid- to late-summer, Fighting Irish quarterback Tommy Rees and linebacker Carlo Calabrese faced consequences from a skirmish with local law enforcement officials. Both were suspended from the opening game in Dublin. But as part of youth, every college-aged person makes unwise decisions, unfortunately more times than not as part of maturing. I personally was no stranger to stupidity at college. Hopefully they learned a valuable, but painful lesson. Does anyone believe that learning how to make better choices now can translate onto the field of play? Earlier this month, athletic administrators unveiled their new football uniform design. Their chaotically cluttered, visually amateurish football uniform design was reminiscent of any high school. Talk about tarnishing the classic Notre Dame football brand. Notre Dame now rivals the University of Maryland for wearing the silliest split-colored helmet design of sparkling gold popcorn on one side, with a menacing fighting leprechaun insignia reminiscent of a Cirque du Soleil painted clown on the other. May this writer suggest that the athletic department sponsor a campus contest to redesign your football mess by maintaining some classic uniform elements, while possibly concentrating on the jerseys and pants, not the helmets? Several alumni have experienced interesting summers as well. On the lighter side, semi-retired Regis Philbin ('53) continued to wander through TD Bank commercials saying silly things while laughing about an increase to his personal bank account. Politically, Republican Virginia Governor Bob McDonnell ('76) noted that he was honored to be on the GOP Vice Presidential short list. However, earlier this year, Virginia Democrats bestowed upon him the title "Governor Ultrasound" after he supported legislation mandating that any woman considering abortion must submit to a trans-vaginal ultrasound, even against her will or against her doctor's advice. After an uproar, the GOP legislature amended the bill to require an external ultrasound, that as McDonnell's signing statements notes, "can help the mother make a fully informed decision" about having an abortion and "some type of requirement that a woman be offered a view of an ultrasound before an abortion can be performed." Shall we call this a neutral summer for McDonnell? My good personal friend, California GOP U.S. Representative Dan Lungren ('68) - truly the first person I think of when I tell others that some of my best friends are Republicans - has fought a more difficult summer. This month, during two town hall events, protesters challenged Lungren by calling him too extreme for office, a warrior against women and unfit for Congress. One protester called for citizens to hold Lungren accountable for his "stoned-aged views" noting his denial of science in favor of oil and gas lobby interests. Could enough Fred Flintstones live and vote in Lungren's district this year to save my good friend's election? Closer to campus, political happenstance affects the Second Congressional District. Paradoxically, our sitting Double Domer, Democratic Congressman Joe Donnelly ('77, '81 JD), who beat former GOP Congressman Chris Chocola in 2006, can now thank Chocola for the opportunity to win the Indiana U.S. Senate seat in November. Chocola is president of The Club for Growth, an organization whose mission "promotes essential American policies through Pro-Growth policies and economic freedom." The organization affected the GOP primary by successfully toppling incumbent U.S. Senator Richard Lugar - apparently by unmasking the Rhodes Scholar's anti-growth and economic enslavement bent. May we call this the "Luck of the Irish" for Donnelly? In Washington this summer, the political parties and presidential campaigns geared for their run-up to November. In softball, the RNC beat the DNC in the last inning. The congressional Democrats whipped the GOP 18-5 in baseball. The congressional women lost their softball game by a couple runs to the women's media team. Take what trends you like from these results. So, how was your summer? Gary J. Caruso, Notre Dame '73, serves in the Department of Homeland Security and was a legislative and public affairs director at the U.S. House of Representatives and in President Clinton's administration. His column appears every other Friday. He can be contacted at GaryJCaruso@alumni.nd.edu The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.  

On experiencing books outdoors

For one Saturday in summer, I read a book in a tree at my grandmother's house. I was never one for climbing trees, unless the sap-sticky scratchy pines beside the tiny church ever counted. Barely bushes, they were long bending branches with so many pieces sticking out that my Sunday School compatriots and I would clamor into the hall minutes before Mass, scraped and sticky, with pine needles mixed with beads of blood (from the roughness of the bark) ruining our clean church clothes. Knowing I was afraid of heights without having ever really experienced heights in actuality, I never had the guts to climb a real tree. I knew the stories about Uncle Carl, my mother's youngest brother, who had been an expert at climbing trees, but less well-versed in the process of getting down from them. Aware, then, that going up a tree also meant getting down from it, I decided against such explorations. The day came, however, that (if I remember right) this tree growing into the side of the fence would be trimmed or otherwise cut down, and as my mother and I examined it reverently, she suggested I sit in it. The notch in which one could sit was not very high up - over my head, but I was small. With some boosting from her or my father, I forget exactly, I found myself settled in the notch between two branches. The sun was shining brightly and the sky was blue and somewhere I could hear a lawn mower (always in Shreveport I could hear a lawn mower). The bark was warm in the sun. Once I was up, I requested my book which my mother had to retrieve. What I was even reading I forget, as I remember paying little attention to it - perhaps a volume collected from Grammy's dusty library shelf. I was more interested in the treeness, of the experience of being-in-tree. I recall that, on the whole, the adventure was short-lived. I realized the tree was not exactly comfortable, that the shapes of the branches formed a seat but not a nice one, that I was tired of reading the book I wasn't really reading and that I would like to do something else like try on dresses in the closet or pick out songs on the piano or find whatever chocolate/ice cream/cookies there were to be found in the house. I demanded to be retrieved and hoisted myself out of that space, where I must have been caught by Daddy or Mom. When I discovered books on tape were sometimes read by the author, I decided that I wanted to hear Madeleine L'Engle read me "A Wrinkle in Time." On first picking up the book, I discovered the protagonist was named Meg, which was all I needed to be interested. In the space of a few pages, I was transported into this great science-fiction-fantasy space in which God was still present and in which there was a space for my Christianity in this brave and beautiful world. From the children's room of the public library I retrieved the tapes I wanted - "A Wrinkle in Time;" later, "A Wind in the Door," though I would fall asleep listening to that one. With my trusty beige and brown tape player/recorder I set up camp on the swingset, placing the thing on the wooden platform by the slide. I was swinging, climbing, hanging upside-down from the metal bar and twisting my hands in the rings as Madeleine L'Engle, grandmotherly, taught me how to properly pronounce things like the name of the Murrays' dog (Fortinbras) and what it meant that Mrs. Which talked LLLIIIIKKKKEEEEETHHHHIIIIISSSSSSS (it was an echo). Caught there between the swings of my swingset and, later, sprawled on a blanket in the open grass as the sun disappeared, I began to feel an autumn chill. I saw myself in some windy New England town, where a little farmy piece of land with landmarks like "the star-watching rock" produced Margaret, Sandy, Denys, and Charles Wallace Murray, and Calvin O'Keefe. With Mrs. L'Engle's calming voice to carry me I rediscovered my backyard. I saw the brick colors of the back patio, the flat roof of the sunroom, the climbing plants that clung to our little green fence, the locks on the gates, the slope down the hill where I had made my fairy-houses, the red clay and light brown mud that I had squished my toes in during a heavy rain on a day on which my mother had felt adventurous as well. I breathed the grass and saw the colors the sky turned as night fell. Contact Margaret Emma Brandl at brandl.2@nd.edu The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer. 

From your student government

Welcome back! One of our administration's main goals this year is to improve the communication between the Notre Dame student body and Student Government. To that end, Student Government is very excited to update you on some of the initiatives we have already accomplished since taking office on April 1st, as well as our plans for the upcoming semester. Some new everyday conveniences that you may notice around campus include hydration stations in every dorm and new food vendors in LaFortune. One of Notre Dame's top priorities is to continue making campus more sustainable. Thanks to funding from the Office of Housing, we are one step closer to this goal, saving tens of thousands of plastic water bottles since the hydration stations were installed this summer. For your eating enjoyment, a Taco Bell/Pizza Hut has recently opened in the basement of LaFortune, and a Panda Express is coming soon. Student Government has also been busy behind the scenes, working on initiatives that may not be as visible to students. The OIT freshmen security trainings have been reformed and switched to in-hall trainings. We have also worked with the Gender Relations Center on improving sexual assault resource trainings for RAs. We hope that these sorts of changes will pervade the campus as a whole to create a safer living environment. Finally, our administration has focused heavily on strengthening our off-campus relations through meetings with the local chiefs of police. Be on the lookout for an email with important information about staying safe off-campus. In the coming semester, Student Government's main focus will be on expanding inclusion in the Notre Dame family, ensuring that all students feel welcome on campus. We will approach this from two different angles: first, through actively supporting the establishment of a Gay-Straight Alliance student organization, in partnership with the Four to Five Movement, and secondly, through continued support of the Call to Action movement which began last spring. As we work with the University on both of these issues, we hope you will tell us your ideas on ways to make sure our campus is as welcoming and friendly as possible. We promise to keep you updated on processes and decisions made by the University and look forward to hearing your feedback throughout the semester! If there is ever anything you want to see improved or changed here at Notre Dame, don't hesitate to visit us in 203 LaFortune - our door is always open!

Political summer

Wow, what a summer! The advent of each school year ushers in that mundane question, "How was your summer?" Short of the June landmark Supreme Court decision upholding the Affordable Care Act, a.k.a., Obamacare, many from the Notre Dame community experienced a similarly momentous summer. This year's warm weather brought cheers, jeers and lucrative payouts to some alumni, providence and misfortune to others, arrests and unveilings within the football program along with legal wrangling from the administration. Summer was characterized by a collective "wow" factor typically unfelt by so many Domers during one season. Campus administrators bookended their "offseason" by first, filing a religious freedom law suit over healthcare coverage mandates against the federal government the day after graduation. While the University chose for financial reasons to self-insure its healthcare recipients - purely a secular business model decision - somehow administrators want to claim a moral religious freedom objection against providing contraception for non-Catholic and non-Christian employees. What was that adage about giving to Caesar what is Caesar's while holding up Roman coins? In mid- to late-summer, Fighting Irish quarterback Tommy Rees and linebacker Carlo Calabrese faced consequences from a skirmish with local law enforcement officials. Both were suspended from the opening game in Dublin. But as part of youth, every college-aged person makes unwise decisions, unfortunately more times than not as part of maturing. I personally was no stranger to stupidity at college. Hopefully they learned a valuable, but painful lesson. Does anyone believe that learning how to make better choices now can translate onto the field of play? Earlier this month, athletic administrators unveiled their new football uniform design. Their chaotically cluttered, visually amateurish football uniform design was reminiscent of any high school. Talk about tarnishing the classic Notre Dame football brand. Notre Dame now rivals the University of Maryland for wearing the silliest split-colored helmet design of sparkling gold popcorn on one side, with a menacing fighting leprechaun insignia reminiscent of a Cirque du Soleil painted clown on the other. May this writer suggest that the athletic department sponsor a campus contest to redesign your football mess by maintaining some classic uniform elements, while possibly concentrating on the jerseys and pants, not the helmets? Several alumni have experienced interesting summers as well. On the lighter side, semi-retired Regis Philbin ('53) continued to wander through TD Bank commercials saying silly things while laughing about an increase to his personal bank account. Politically, Republican Virginia Governor Bob McDonnell ('76) noted that he was honored to be on the GOP Vice Presidential short list. However, earlier this year, Virginia Democrats bestowed upon him the title "Governor Ultrasound" after he supported legislation mandating that any woman considering abortion must submit to a trans-vaginal ultrasound, even against her will or against her doctor's advice. After an uproar, the GOP legislature amended the bill to require an external ultrasound, that as McDonnell's signing statements notes, "can help the mother make a fully informed decision" about having an abortion and "some type of requirement that a woman be offered a view of an ultrasound before an abortion can be performed." Shall we call this a neutral summer for McDonnell? My good personal friend, California GOP U.S. Representative Dan Lungren ('68) - truly the first person I think of when I tell others that some of my best friends are Republicans - has fought a more difficult summer. This month, during two town hall events, protesters challenged Lungren by calling him too extreme for office, a warrior against women and unfit for Congress. One protester called for citizens to hold Lungren accountable for his "stoned-aged views" noting his denial of science in favor of oil and gas lobby interests. Could enough Fred Flintstones live and vote in Lungren's district this year to save my good friend's election? Closer to campus, political happenstance affects the Second Congressional District. Paradoxically, our sitting Double Domer, Democratic Congressman Joe Donnelly ('77, '81 JD), who beat former GOP Congressman Chris Chocola in 2006, can now thank Chocola for the opportunity to win the Indiana U.S. Senate seat in November. Chocola is president of The Club for Growth, an organization whose mission "promotes essential American policies through Pro-Growth policies and economic freedom." The organization affected the GOP primary by successfully toppling incumbent U.S. Senator Richard Lugar - apparently by unmasking the Rhodes Scholar's anti-growth and economic enslavement bent. May we call this the "Luck of the Irish" for Donnelly? In Washington this summer, the political parties and presidential campaigns geared for their run-up to November. In softball, the RNC beat the DNC in the last inning. The congressional Democrats whipped the GOP 18-5 in baseball. The congressional women lost their softball game by a couple runs to the women's media team. Take what trends you like from these results. So, how was your summer? Gary J. Caruso, Notre Dame '73, serves in the Department of Homeland Security and was a legislative and public affairs director at the U.S. House of Representatives and in President Clinton's administration. His column appears every other Friday. He can be contacted at GaryJCaruso@alumni.nd.edu The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.  

Amazon will seize 3-D printing

Amazon will seize 3D printing

3D printing is going to revolutionize online shopping. Amazon CEO and founder Jeff Bezos realizes that and probably envisions Amazon orchestrating the revolution. As a testament to how seriously Bezos takes 3D printing, Bezos, along with two other venture capital groups, helped MakerBot, a seller of consumer 3D printers and the accompanying necessary materials, raise $10 million. 3D printing operates like a 2D printer but adds another dimension out of the plane of the paper. It does so through repeated deposition of layers of a liquid plastic or melted metal ink. The technology has followed Moore's Law, rapidly decreasing in cost. Major companies, including General Electric, have proposed using 3D printing in manufacturing processes. Additionally, smaller companies use 3D printing to produce niche products. Bespoke Innovations 3D prints artistic, custom prosthetics. It is even possible to print cell phone circuitry. 3D printing will link the virtual and physical world seamlessly. Users will be able to download a Computer Animated Drawing (CAD) file and print the desired product in their home, or maybe print the product at a regional center kitted with more heavy duty printers capable of printing more complicated objects. 3D printing will also diversify suppliers, as it will require less infrastructure and investment to begin a company if product design is entirely virtual. Therefore, it will be possible for many niche companies to compete with Amazon. Amazon is well positioned to take advantage of 3D printing, but it also stands to lose out if it does not stay ahead of the curve. But there are several ways Bezos and his company can anticipate and lead the change in 3D printing. The first step would probably be to buy up companies such as Shapeways which are already allowing users to upload designs and customers to then print these designs. Amazon can also create in-house 3D printing and tools on its site to embellish conventional products using its in-house 3D printing. It is unlikely that most adults will have the necessary skills, the time, and interest to design complex products. Amazon can offer the easy alternative: offer customizable products. By acquiring companies and hiring in-house designers, Amazon can head off the inevitable diversity of suppliers and instead establish itself as a marketplace for different users to upload their designs, as Shapeways already does. So my advice: buy stock in Amazon. Not only did its CEO redefine the book industry; he is also heavily involved in the privatized space industry. When it comes to 3D printing, which has been hailed the next trillion dollar industry, I would not be surprised if Bezos has already pounced.

Reverse culture shock

When I was getting ready to go to Nepal, I tried to prepare myself for living in a culture very different from my own. I read about the culture and talked to anyone and everyone I could who had been to Nepal before. I was ready to deal with culture shock. What I wasn't prepared for was the culture shock I would experience when I got home. I got off the plane at O'Hare and made it through customs smoothly. Everything was going fine. And then I had to talk to someone. Hearing English being spoken freaked me out. My first language is English, and it's not like I never heard it in Nepal, but I was so used to the sound of Nepali that hearing English was weird. Then, I noticed just how many white people there were. No joke, when I saw all the blondes with blue eyes, I got nervous. I didn't know how to act. I didn't understand why everyone around me looked like I did. The worst though was going through security. On a normal day, security at O'Hare can make even the most hardened traveler nervous. Well, I was not at my best when I walked into that security line. I was tired from traveling for two days. I was jetlagged out of my mind. I still had a tika (a red mark, made from powder that is a blessing) on my forehead. And I was dressed like a total bohemian hippie, complete with purple MC Hammer parachute pants, looking the part of the traveler returning from South Asia. Just being in line for security was so overwhelming, I started to cry. I already looked like a crazy person from what I was wearing, and the tears did not make it any better. The TSA agents probably thought I was some sort of criminal. Once I made it through security, I barely caught my connecting plane. I didn't leave my culture shock in Chicago; it has followed me to Indianapolis and South Bend. Hot water still freaks me out. Air conditioning makes me so cold, that my lips actually turned blue in class. I think chicken tastes bad, and cheese is a super-weird food. Now, there are definite perks for being back in the U.S. I can get Diet Coke whenever I want. The power doesn't just go off for any reason. I can do laundry in a washing machine and not by hand in my shower. I was ready to come home at the end of the summer. But I had no idea how weird the U.S. would seem. 

Choice of two futures

During the summer, I wrote a profile about Paul Ryan of Wisconsin, before he was picked to be Mitt Romney's running mate. Below is the profile. My next article will explain why Paul Ryan is not a good choice to be Mitt Romney's running mate.

Early onset of junioritis

Okay, so this column is a year early. I'm not supposed to feel nostalgic as a junior. I'm not supposed to be looking back on my two years as a junior. Juniors are not supposed to reminisce.

Risky Business

Some of you tried out for the marching band and got rejected before your first class. Your natural reaction would be to become wary of being slapped down again and cruise through Activities Night focusing solely upon clubs and organizations that don't hold tryouts and avoiding club sports where you might lose. The irony is only people who are bold enough to risk losing don't become losers.

I'm no sidewalk stalker

"I do mind, the Dude minds. This will not stand, you know, this aggression will not stand, man." Say what you want about the tenets of The Dude's philosophy in "The Big Lebowski," but at least it's an ethos. I, myself, am the victim of regular, unchecked aggression, and I've just about had enough of it. A good part of my days each weekday on campus is spent walking to and from class. As I'm walking from almost as far north as possible to DeBartolo and Mendoza, I cover a lot of turf on my daily treks. As I make my daily journeys, with higher education or a nap on my mind, depending on which way I'm going, I often walk alone. My clothes are often wrinkled and out of fashion (I've already used this forum to discuss my distaste with the University's laundry policy.) I'm often deep in thought, being the spectacular intellectual and misunderstood genius that I am. And to top it all off, though my wonderful parents graced me with many tools, apparently one of them was not a facial structure that doesn't say "I might attack you." On an almost daily basis, as I walk to class, or the dining hall, or wherever I'm headed, I find myself often behind a male or female student with whom I am not friends. And as I walk, keeping to myself, I see him or her turn around to see me following them, and see a look of terror flash across their face. My instinct in these cases, when I see someone give me a look like I might be the Son of Sam, which again happens at least 11 times a week, is to flash a warm, friendly, non-threatening smile. But you know what, in case any of you are in this situation in the future, a forced smile is apparently about the worst thing you can do. Where I see it as a sign of my peaceful intentions, apparently it acts more as a confirmation of the other person's suspicions, and their pace inevitably quickens to a blazing speed. I get that there are real dangers in the world, and we should be aware of threats around us so as not to be taken advantage of; I'm just not one of them. And frankly, I'm a little hurt. So in the future, if you see me walking behind you on the quad, I promise, I'm not about to attack you. 

No, Rick Reilly, you should be demoted

I fondly remember reading Rick Reilly's columns when I was in grade school. Reilly's columns were a breath of fresh air in a stifling sporting culture that I felt placed too much emphasis on winning and profit. No one captured the innocent side of sports better than he did. NFL previews and baseball commentary were and still are a dime a dozen. But Reilly's pieces on deaf basketball players and high school teams that hadn't won in years seemed to contain more truth, more joy, more value than anything else Sports Illustrated had to offer. And America knew it. Sure, each year, Reilly would add new awards to his trophy case. But more importantly, he taught more and more readers each year to listen to the little guy, appreciate moral victories and respect other peoples' challenging journeys. The role he played transcended sports. In his own way, he was the sports world's Ira Glass or Lewis Lapham, a tastemaker who used his hard-earned resources and reputation to keep our culture honest. His columns reminded us that athletes and fans are human beings, first and foremost. So much for that. For those of you who hadn't heard, Rick Reilly dedicated his column last week to arguing that Notre Dame's football program should be "demoted" for its failure to win championships and bully opponents the way it did until the early 1990's. He claims our football team's performance on the field does not merit its cut in BCS earnings, its influence on the BCS decision-making committee or its preseason rankings. "If I told you about a team that had lost 10 of its last 12 bowl games, had dropped nine of its last 10 to USC, had led the nation only in disappointment, you'd figure that team would be halfway down the Mountain West standings. But Notre Dame still gets perks and love from the NCAA and BCS as though the year is 1946," he wrote in his column for ESPN.com. His contention is that Notre Dame was once special enough to deserve these "perks," but that the present arrangement is no longer fair. "Notre Dame is not a national brand any more than USC, Alabama or Stanford. A national brand? What would its slogan be, 'Dominating Navy just about every year'? What kind of national brand loses to freaking Tulsa (2010)?" Well, what can I say? You got us, Rick Shame on us for asking our athletes to have integrity and academic ability. Shame on us for tightening our standards when we eclipsed USC, Alabama and Stanford in national relevance. Though, on second thought, shame on you for not asking, "Would those teams be nationally relevant if they lost four games a year? Would their fans pack the Sun Bowl? Would their opponents' fans travel hundreds of miles to watch them play their team? Are you telling me enough people care about Stanford football to watch them on NBC?" Actually, Rick's article showed a shocking disregard for fans and their feelings (whether they love or hate Notre Dame). It measures the success of a program in wins and losses alone. It rolls its eyes at our academic standards for student athletes, somewhat unscientifically accuses our athletes' desire to win and implicitly likening our program to Penn State's football program (because apparently neither program plays by the same rules as everyone else). Classy. I guess that answers the question, "What have you done lately, Rick?" Maybe you should turn in your tiara. If ESPN offers you a contract extension, maybe you should consider taking some time off. Contact ArnavDutt at adutt1@nd.edu The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer. 

Where the geeks at?

The athlete is easy to spot. She moves with terrifying precision to translate an object from point A to point B with her hands, feet, head or some other tool attached to her body. She does this with unseemly cool, not acknowledging the pressure of those who watch, nor crushed by the expectations of her teammates. Her talent is on display because her talent of grandeur is indivisible from her person. Wherever she goes, even the misinformed can gather - she is an athlete. Geeks, nerds, dorks and dweebs seldom wear their identities so proudly. But I have it on good authority - you are likely a geek and it's entirely the Internet's fault. Fret not. Don't be so offended; sit back down and kindly stop threatening to choke me. It's quite all right to be a nerd. This isn't grammar school. I promise no one will throw a ball at your head for reading a book on "American Stamps Throughout the Ages" during recess. It's quite vogue to be a nerd these days, so keep your chin up. Geek Chic is a thing these days, making nerds, dare I say it, sexy. You're a hot commodity for at least another 18 months. The highest-grossing blockbusting films are based on comic-born heroes. Horn rimmed glasses are fashionable, and pale dudes with massive egos can create a social network to spite girls who didn't like them and make billions of dollars in the process. Nerd language is vague and hard to wade through. It's hard to say what a geek is, but common knowledge would point to it being anything but good. While vaguely attributed to a line in Dr. Suess's "If I Ran The Zoo," "nerd" gained popularity in the early 1950s as an alteration of the slang "nert," meaning a crazy or stupid person. Preceding that term by a couple decades, "geek" came into use around 1916 to refer to a sideshow character at the circus who would perform strange and spectacular feats, like biting the heads off animals. These words have evolved over time - I don't accuse you of being dull or having carnivorous desires for snake heads. The essential point is that geeks and nerds circa 1950 were people on the fringe of society. Today we still hold that location on the fringe, but rather than be the rejected flock from society, it is us who do the rejecting to create our own normative standards of living, being and interacting. Geeks don't exist on the fringe for the sake of it alone, but rather are pushed there by two important qualities - obsession and intelligence. It is the combined product of the two, which creates the geek you likely are. Geekdom comes in many flavors and varieties depending on where the obsession lies. There are computer geeks, book geeks, fishing geeks, sport geeks, electronic geeks, indie-rock geeks, gadget geeks, hiking geeks, thespian geeks, fitness geeks, binge-drinking geek, photo geeks, Harry Potter geeks, language geeks and so many, many more. Until the year 2000 and access to the Internet became widespread, the title of geek was reserved for the arduously initiated. Without the mass proliferation of data, it was a terribly abstruse process to become saturated in your hobbies to the point of obsession. If you wanted to be a rock geek, you had to wait until Nirvana's newest album came out, then you'd have to walk to a record store and purchase, then you'd have to take it home and listen to it, then you'd have to go find your rock geek friends to talk on it and compare notes. Now, you Google "Neutral Milk Hotel," click a link and shrug while texting your friends, "I liked their earlier work better." The obsession tied to the psyche of a nerd previously forced people outside of normative society. Folks who wanted to immerse themselves in Star Wars culture had to forego ridged structures of society that would admonish their attachment. The outcasts only had each other, and these were relationships often difficult to find. If you want to be a master sports statistician, you simply have to type to find the wildest, most precise and comprehensive data imaginable. Then you can craft an educated sentence about your findings and tweet it. Your self-selected fans who love you for you (data-centric sports comments included) will appreciate what you have to share. Want to boast about your Harry Potter fan fiction where Professor Flitwick and Trelawney elope and go fight dragons? Just log into MuggleNet and type until your fingers hurt. The community will eat it up, because they feel as you do, and you've found each other online. The fringe component and general social ineptitude previously requisite for geek status is gone, so I welcome you to turn to one another and smile in your collective geekiness. Accept and own it because it's something you can wear proudly. You're not on the fringe, you're society's heart. Blake J. Graham is a sophomore. He can be reached on Twitter @BlakeGraham or at bgraham2@nd.edu The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer. 

Bittersweet advice

For the last few weeks, I've been doing everything in my power to avoid writing this column. Packing, eating, sleeping, writing, cleaning (okay, not cleaning), anything to avoid this moment. Why? Well, it means I have to officially accept my status as a senior. It means I have to face the fact I only have one year left here.It means I have to tell you the truth: I wish, more than anything, I could be a freshman and experience four years of Notre Dame all over again. I can't do that, obviously. But I can give you a little advice that I hope will make your time here just as great - or even better - than mine has been. First of all, have fun. Really, I mean it. Have a blast. These are a totally unique four years in your life. You have more freedom and fewer responsibilities in your first two years of college than you'll ever have again. Take advantage of that. Go to parties. Soak in every last moment of a home football weekend, or maybe take an impromptu trip to an away game. Seize the precious weeks of nice weather and throw a Frisbee around on the quad. You'll make the best friends in the world, and you won't regret it. Second, take risks. Change your major - once, twice or five times. Find something you really enjoy, and spend four years studying that. Join a club you never would have expected to join, or maybe one that has nothing to do with your career goals. That's how I got involved with The Observer, and I don't think I ever made a better decision. (Note to staff: please remind me of this in three months.) Third, take advantage of all the opportunities Notre Dame has to offer you. From Center for Social Concerns seminars to unique social events like PigTostal, from the Career Center to interhall sports, this community has a vast array of once-in-a-lifetime opportunities. Whether you study abroad in Australia or simply get to know your rector really well, you'll have too many unforgettable experiences to count by the time you graduate. Fourth, eat at J.W. Chen's. Other unforgettable South Bend culinary experiences include Rocco's, Bruno's, Barnaby's, Elia's, El Pareiso, Uptown Kitchen and the ever-stalwart Fiddler's Hearth. Your stomachs will thank me, I promise. Fifth and most importantly, never forget how blessed you are to be a part of the Notre Dame family. Soak up every moment. Thank your parents profusely. Recognize just how true - and timeless - the words of the Alma Mater are. If you do, my experience writing this column will make sense. In just a few all-too-short years, you'll be the ones giving bittersweet advice to incoming freshmen. But I can promise you, without a doubt, that you too will tell them just how much your heart will forever love thee, Notre Dame.  

Explore, nurture, grow

Dear students, It is with warm enthusiasm that I welcome all new and returning students of the University of Notre Dame. In particular, I wish to congratulate and welcome our first year and transfer students. We are thankful that you are here and that you have chosen to share and develop your intellectual and spiritual gifts with our community. We will strive to nurture your growth during your time as a student. Make the most of your time here. Be open to engaging new friends, those who may have very similar or very different personal stories and perspectives. Embrace each classroom experience as an opportunity to learn, hone your talents and share your ideas. If you live in a residence hall, explore the multiple ways that you can contribute as a leader. When you face challenge, know that you are not alone and do not hesitate to seek support from those around you. Finally, in all that you do, take a few moments each day for personal reflection to refresh your spirit. As a Catholic university, we are dedicated to developing people who will be prepared to make positive contributions to the Church and the world. We are confident that you possess the talent and desire to make meaningful and lasting contributions. Once again, welcome to Notre Dame. May you soon come to feel at home on this campus, and to love it, as do so many graduates before you. I hope to meet you in person over the course of your time, and throughout that time, I will keep you in my prayers. In Notre Dame,