The Cornell Daily Sun (https://cornellsun.com/tag/math/)
I am the fourth generation in my family to receive and use this apple pie recipe. My great-grandmother first created the recipe and passed it down to my bubbie, who sent it to my mother when she was living in Nairobi, Kenya and wanted to show her host family what a traditional American Thanksgiving was like in 1989. Now, I possess and cherish this special recipe. Rich in history and flavor, this apple pie is sure not to disappoint.
Sex and solving mathematical problems are the same process. Sometimes they are surprisingly quick, inducing a moment of ecstasy but an ultimately unfulfilling experience. Other times, you can try for hours with no progress on the floor of a study room in PSB until you inevitably realize that cumming with a condom just isn’t an option for some people. Even though you know the person you’re with hasn’t gotten tested, you’re still willing to trust them because they have an IUD — and because you haven’t touched a breast since 10th grade English class during a haunting read-aloud of Geoffrey Chaucer’s The Canterbury Tales. Generally, however, as you grow in either mathematical maturity or sexual ability you learn your needs and what problems you have the potential to solve or, in my case, how to eat pussy and smash.
Pen and paper in hand, I felt a jolt of relief as I finished scribbling the last answer to a math problem set due in 20 minutes. Feeling accomplished, I paraded from Olin Library to Malott Hall, the mathematics building, hoping to find my TA’s office where homework is dropped off. Upon arriving at Malott, I opened Blackboard to look for his precise office location. The result was appalling: My moment of accomplishment immediately receded as I discovered my TA’s office was located 15 minutes away in Rhodes Hall, which is by the Engineering Quad on the opposite end of the campus. Fortunately, after sprinting to Rhodes, I somehow was able to submit my homework on time.
Cornell recently received a unique gift — known as a “gömböc” — that bears the gratitude of a visiting scholar and showcases the fascinating possibilities of mathematics.
“Our music doesn’t have words and neither does our name,” ______ write on their Bandcamp, and often state at their shows. Last Friday, the duo (comprised of Brad Nathanson ’17 and Carsten Thue-Bludworth ’17) released Paralanguage, their second album following August 2015’s the linden sessions on Ithaca’s student-run Electric Buffalo Records. Recorded at the same Linden Avenue home as their previous release, Paralanguage offers 37 and a half minutes of complete sonic immersion. It is, at points, soothing, angular, sprawling, concise and susceptible to having many more descriptors tacked on to it. Yet, I offer a slight modification of _____’s mantra-of-sorts: not only does their music “not have words,” it doesn’t need words to convey interesting, intricate ideas and overwhelming moments of beauty.