Jared Thomas ('20) There’s no quiet on the Great Wall. Once upon a time, sure, maybe, it’s easy imagine stone-faced young guns with more freckles than facial hair looming out over the misty mountains cold, eyes squinted against the sun, hands clasped on bronze handles, waiting for the dreamy sound of war drums rattling just over the horizon, all alone at the end of the world except for the almost silent sound of the wind’s whistling retreat from somewhere far away. Of course, by the time I came around, that was all gone, more or less. I mean, what else did you expect? The Wall’s barely a wall anymore-It’s glorified stone Swiss cheese winding and grinding through decapitated mountain tops that steam with tourist sweat more than they do anything else. The quiet’s been replaced by the constant clicking on and off of camera lens, with the shivering slivers of shutting shutters and by a verifiable Babylon of different languages that dren...
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