In journalism circles, a lot of time is spent worrying about the inexorable fall of the newspaper. They look at fever charts of ad revenues plummeting and circulation falling off, and they can’t imagine how they’ll survive.

From the beginning, newspapers have told you what’s going
on in the world. They were there to cover Sept. 11. They were there
to tell you UCLA’s chancellor was stepping down.

July 4. Good time for a cold war. Now, I don’t often
advocate unjustified wars ““ it’s just that our freedoms
are slipping away.
And we need Cold War II to save them.

The three of us would stay up all night, just talking away. We
were like a bunch of high school girls at their first
sleepover.
Only we weren’t your typical high school girls.

Zero tolerance at high schools is meant for guns and knives. But
when schools start punishing students for writing and sharing
literature, I begin to fear for my own safety.

One of the greatest dilemmas of social interaction is staring me
in the face. Someone I don’t even remember is waiting for me
to decide whether I will confirm our friendship with a quick
click.

Would you feel cheated if someone tapped into your phone line
and started making calls on your dime? Of course.
Would you feel cheated if someone tapped into your Internet
connection and started surfing on your dime?

UCLA is the entire world for many of us. We eat and sleep here,
we rarely leave and we stubbornly insist there’s nothing
wrong with this.

This story never happens. This story ends with our imaginary
character, Man, having unsafe sex. Though you think you’re
above unsafe sex, we all know sex trumps brains.

I write a column. You read it. That’s a natural connection
to make.
San Francisco sells a list of the gay couples who got married
there before the California Supreme Court halted the practice.