Time froze. We dared not move as beautiful words painted images in our heads, and we remained still as those same words slowly tore down everything they’d built. Read more…

Time froze. We dared not move as beautiful words painted images in our heads, and we remained still as those same words slowly tore down everything they’d built. Read more…
There is now a traffic circle at Escondido and Campus Drive.
This is going to be a disaster. Read more…
Stanford Dining seems to be playing a game of “Deal or No Deal” with the student body as it says, “Sure, we’ll extend dinner and late night hours…but only if we can serve Chocolate Chicken and Teriyaki Dogs.” Read more…
I woke up the morning of Day Three to the collective cries of the online Outside Lands community, case in point being the friend who had woken me up with the tragic news. “Just experienced heartbreak for the first time,” he tweeted. “*sad face emojis*.”
Day Two of Outside Lands was full of sprinting. Sprints aren’t high on my festival/ever to-do lists, but something about the titillating scent of greasy pizza and the promise of a series of amazing (and, as always, conflicting!) sets got my energy levels to some all-time highs.
Nestled in a forest far, far away from civilization (also known as Golden Gate Park), nearly 200,000 people came together to partake in San Francisco’s largest music festival. Outside Lands 2014 was the biggest yet, filled with overpriced ~organic~ gourmet foodstuffs, impeccably dressed twenty-somethings, and sporadic miniature dust storms that left you feeling like you were totally #roughingit amidst all this #nature.
It’s early August. You still have a month and a half of summer, and all your friends are leaving you to go back to college. Here’s a lil’ splash of dopeness to keep you soaking in that summer goodness. Dive in.
Dr. Dre became Apple’s newest (and buffest) employee over the weekend. Ice Cube’s latest project was the sequel to “Are We There Yet?” These are dark days for gangsta rap. Still waiting on Detoxto drop…
To save you the trek to my “About Me” blurb: I hail from the far-away lands of South Texas, specifically the fair city of San Antonio. It is a flat, humid place, capable of reaching swelteringly hot temperatures on your average summer day. I say summer, of course, because spring—or any seasonal differentiation past “hot” and “cold”, really—is practically a myth in South Texas.
Two of StAR’s freshmen reporters sit down to talk about Frost. The music festival, not the poet, or the frozen water.