Dear jet-lagged readers,

It’s that point in the semester where there are so many tabs open on my computer that I can no longer see which tab is what. I have reached those 42 tabs (I counted!), turning the colorful display of miniature logos at the top of my window bar into a saddening list that includes only the first letter of every page’s title adjacent to a little dark grey “X.”

We’ve got to be honest: We almost decided to not publish this week’s issue because of the emotional turmoil of Sunday night’s Oscar’s “gaffe” (which, really, is just a posh word for fuckery).

Sweet, sweet readers,

Dear loyal, lovely, love-sick readers,

Like last week’s issue, The Eye finds itself unable to escape the whirlwind of changes taking place in our national political landscape. It seems as though every time we look at the news, a fresh headline threatening social and constitutional freedom pollutes our screens.

“This is my America just as much as it’s anyone else’s,” she remarks. My clogged phone speaker turns her mellow voice coarse, mechanical. The Barnard senior speaks to me over the phone—and anonymously—because in her America, she does not feel safe enough otherwise.