Lauren Herold examines Lady Gaga's statements - or lack thereof - about violence.

This is my desk. You have no idea the shame I feel, showing it to you.

Calling it a “desk” sends entirely the wrong message. First of all, it's only desk-like in that it is a piece of furniture with a flat top and four legs. In truth, this piece dreams of one day fulfilling its destiny as a dining room table. At present, however, it mostly functions as a holder for the motley assortment of junk that I find in my hands at any given moment in the day.

Secondly, to say that this is my desk gives the impression that I accomplish work here. And, well, that was my intention. But, I don't. Or, not regularly. Of all the places that I work - couch, bed, coffee shop, subway - I work here at the "desk" least often. There was a time when this nomadic work life pleased me. I felt so footloose, slinging my computer bag over my shoulder and heading off to catch a few minutes of work somewhere. (In those days, that was the important part: that I was going somewhere. Somewhere where no one demanded juice or dumped markers on the floor or wanted to hear Goodnight Moon for the thousandth time.)

Chances are, if you’re into academic feminism or if you’ve taken a Gender Studies class in the past 15-20 years, you’ve heard of Judith Butler. Butler, a feminist theorist who helped found queer theory (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Queer_theory), is generally regarded as one of the most important philosophers of our time: she’s extremely prolific and her work literally changed the face of feminist theory and modern philosophy.

I miss basketball. I miss being on the court. I miss being with my team, and right now, I really miss being part of March Madness. During my four years of college, I was fortunate enough to play each year in the NCAA tournament. Bowdoin made it to four consecutive elite eight games; two painful games away from winning a national championship. We didn’t win, but, I consider myself lucky for the experience.