You know the sound the guy makes in Alien as the chestbuster is trying to emerge? That feral whine, part dying ox and part Joan of Arc mid-burning? Sigourney & co. are trying to hold him down while being sung to by Goody Proctor’s howler monkey.

Brown is no stranger to that sound. [Read more →]

Classy.

Hold onto your lanyards – Brown seems to be stepping up its internal security with a few new measures. First, J. Walter Wilson now requires swipe cards on weekends; no longer can we shimmy over to J Dubs in our pajamas to innocently and obsessively check our mail in the mornings. Similarly, I’m sure you’ve seen the new space-age apparatus set up in the Rock. The glass pane emblazoned with the Brown logo keeps the public out – in style. I feel like we have to stop and ask ourselves: what is the point of all these checkpoints? The way I see it, doors exist for two reasons, to keep people out, and to keep people in… [Read more →]