F IRST of all, I'd like to thank the graduating staff of The Cavalier Daily for their support in my many hours of need and wish them all well in whatever they end up doing. Otherwise, I'd like to remind Lys that everything's relative but dolphins are important, Sarah that the revolution will not be televised, and Johnny K that although I know I can't say anything meaningful to him since language is so insufficient, I hope he keeps up his opposition to the master narrative. Oh and also for my bel, remember: mental bonheur equals serenity now.
I want to say that each individual member of PST is my hero and our class was the best thinking gemeinshaft in the history of the program: Long live Marx's Red Ale!
I want to thank my women's women (like a certain opera singer and a certain Oxford-bound chickadee, my favorite Praguean, and the best surgeon's-ex I know) for commiserating and being inspiringly liberated. (I know y'all are gonna take over the world.) And a certain gender-transgressive for inspiring new appreciation for the relevance of punk to University classrooms everywhere. Save Tibet, free Carrrie. I wish the best to my favorite Italian-Irish-Japanese man for his Asian literary (yellow journalistic) perspective on affairs of the heart. To whom it may concern, I want to say that I fully (and finally) acknowledge the importance of morale boosts. And to whomever else it may concern, haec olim. Thanks to a certain big-time journalist for keepin' it real, and a certain Ween-fan for demonstrating the connection between Sinatra and Kermit. The house generally, but Frogger specifically for helping me with my thesis and being the best of friends in moments of extreme embarrassment. To my do-gooder Nellie I wish all the best. To a certain Californian and his crew much thanks for the nicotine and talks and themes more generally. I wish Benjamin on my Wittgenstein-interpreter, a companion for graveyard visits, and vainly hope that he repents and changes his Weltanshauung sometime soon. I want thank Jack, Bill and Sontag for their non-intervention pact and strange love/fruit. And a special someone who alerted me to Slurpees, sundaes and Jazz.
(Kimberly Jones was a 1999-2000 Nation/World editor.)
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