Going Straight to Hell

The recent article on the Greenhouse Cafe's new rule against what seems to me to be good old-fashioned loitering on the part of Harvard's geek elite is really the final straw.

Freshmen on Garden Street. Baseball caps in Adams House. Girls who suddenly think my name is "Jim." A three-week abstinence from "Mr. Minnesota Head," induced by bureaucratic gridlock. The throes of wholesale sycophancy by which the model-building, history-raping pundits at the Kennedy School now hope to be elevated.

An administration that whines apologies for its liberal free speech policies. The utter breakdown of grammar, style, taste, conscience and general merit in the newer Yorker. Flaccid white walls in the Lowell dining hall. People bothering to argue about the relative intellectual merits of Madonna's book. The kidnapping of the Rational Right by various mutated isthmus-dwellers. The destruction of the public space in front of Au Bon Pain so the Ministry of Holyoke can grow by .4 percent this year.

I don't know. Maybe it's just me. Let me just say that this whole place is going straight to hell. Jonathan R. Funke '93