In its very first shot, Martin Scorsese’s “Hugo” sucks you into a magical, wonderful new world and refuses to let you go. The camera pans over the 1930’s Parisian skyline, but this is not the “real” Paris; it is the enchanted city of lights and love that Americans have been so fond of imagining for decades now (we saw it most recently in Woody Allen’s “Midnight in Paris”).

I had exactly five tabs open on Google Chrome when I wrote this rant. The first tab was Grooveshark, my main source for finding and listening to music. The second was for my email, which I need to check constantly for class and which basically accounts for half of my contact with the world outside of Amherst. The other half is taken care of by the third tab, Facebook. Facebook functions as my only social life during times when I’m stressed or just too busy to leave my room and face the sunlight.

Stargazing has never been so devastating.

“Melancholia,” the latest work by controversial Danish director Lars von Trier (“Breaking the Waves,” “Dogville,” “Antichrist”) pieces together the final days before the end of the world through two sisters with opposite personalities, the impulsive but charming Justine (Kirsten Dunst) and the controlled, serious Claire (Charlotte Gainsbourg). A visual feast, the film takes its title from the planet about to collide with and destroy Earth.

Currently in its third season, “Glee” has evolved considerably from the cheery celebration-of-the-underdog show it embodied when it first aired in 2009. A satire on the world of small-town high schools, the show follows the lives of the members of a high school glee club and all of the traumas they suffer at the bottom of the social ladder.

As the temperature drops here at Amherst, many more of us become accustomed to just rolling out of bed in the morning, throwing on a sweater and jeans and running to class. It’s convenient, quick and comfortable in the freezing weather. Not to mention it’s hard to feel good about yourself with a runny nose, dry skin and bags under your eyes. While waking up (and getting enough sleep) is going to remain as hard as ever in the stretch before another break begins, there are remedies for the parched, cracking skin some of us face when winter approaches.

Dovahkiin. Dovahkiin. For the past month and a half, this word has been haunting my mind. When I go to class and when I go to sleep it races through my thoughts, and pops into my head at times when it has no right. In my residence hall I see it scrawled on dry-erase boards and bathroom mirrors. And on the calendar in my common room under November 11, there it is written: Dovahkiin. Dovahkiin.

Why do we want our photographs taken? In this world where time inevitably passes, it is impossible to keep anything but a vague memory of the things that are not happening to us in the moment. We don’t even remember the exact taste of the last meal we had, or how we felt five minutes ago. When exactly were you happy in the past month? Hanging out with friends on some couch of some common room of some floor, a walk under clear skies, seeing that beautiful tree with its leaves half-turned that was spared by the storm — these moments may as well have been imagined, so distant we are to them.

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