Glance (which has also been buzzed about under the name “Sex With Glass”) was dreamed up by a team of London-based developers who promise users they can “experience sex like never before.” The thrust of it is watching yourself have sex, from your partner’s perspective.

Sometimes I go and I’m extremely happy. This is great. Thank you, crippling fear of missing another sing-along to Ke$ha’s “Timber.”

We can come out of the closet — but only if we go back in for a little while when other people’s comfort is at risk. Furthermore, people who say that romantic or sexual relationships are private matters usually only apply this to queer relationships.

Rhetoric about fairness, supply and demand, GSR abuse and the “One University Policy” will be thrown around, while we wallow in the inequity of having to walk a couple of blocks to study.

Growing up in Marietta, Georgia, I was a proud liberal. Like my parents, a blue dog Democrat. At a young age, I didn’t necessarily know what being a liberal meant, but I rubbed it in the faces of my classmates, who, like their parents, identified as conservatives.

But as a woman, and as a sorority woman, I am done hearing about what’s wrong with Greek life. It is easy to point out the flaws. It’s not new. It’s not interesting. And I’ve found that many of the things people will say about sororities are just untrue.

The key to succeeding in such enterprises is the unhindered development of creative thinking, in which one proposes new ways of considering problems and uncovering their solutions. However, many schools, including Penn, tend to do just the opposite — they obstruct and even shun creativity.

For some reason, though, it feels taboo to strike up a friendly conversation before a lecture starts. At best, the conversation fizzles out after questions about other classes and dorms, and you end up nodding to yourself, muttering, “Cool, that’s cool. Very nice. Cool.”

The geezers are right about one thing: It’s a brave new world. And mass media is starting to taste like soma.

I care because Pope Francis has made no effort to correct the lie that condom use increases AIDS transmission — a falsehood propagated in Africa by the previous pontiff.

We are not able to want, desire, take pleasure in accidental beauties passing in front of our bodies each day.

Dr. King undeniably was an extraordinary man who accomplished many great things over the course of his life. But rather than celebrate this, we have transformed him into a larger-than-life figure and given him the magical ability to serve as justification for virtually any policy position imaginable and act as a sort of litmus test to gauge contemporary race-relations.

Many — I’m inclined to say most — Penn students know little to nothing about queer and trans identities and the struggles we face. For those who do, the stories that are told are mostly representative of the G and the L in LGBTQIA, while little is known about bisexual, trans, intersex and asexual individuals.

Anything that veers too far from “normal” suddenly raises eyebrows. Having a thing for thigh-highs screams sexy, but having a thing for cheese signals perversion.

The groupwhine has become so pervasive on campus that we confuse it with true camaraderie, as if we were actually revealing deep insecurities to our friends.

I’m fairly certain if I met my celebrity idol Robert Downey Jr., he would shake my hand, sign the lunchbox I have with his face on it and then ask me, “So, Sara, what are your post-graduation plans?”

I understand people like the Wolf should not be idolized because it could encourage bad behavior, but there is no harm in admiring them for the entertainment value.