Letters

To the editors:

By now I am sufficiently accustomed to the egos of some Harvard students, but the arrogance of pre-frosh Seth K. Bechis blew my mind (News, April 19). Bechis thinks himself so notable that others need to read his story for inspiration If it was necessary for Bechis to submit a three-page press release about himself to Boston newspapers, then apparently his achievements did not merit press attention on their own standing.

Secondly, Bechis' list of past "professions" sounds like the resum of many Harvard students. When he enrolls in college he will realize that many students are math whizzes, musicians, athletes, entrepreneurs, and brilliant scholars. We are fortunate to be have such multi-talented peers, but even more fortunate that most of our peers enjoy learning from each other and don't presume to be the "inspiration" for everyone else.

If Bechis is as smart as he claims he is, he will quickly learn that intelligence and ability are readily recognizable. If he has to proclaim his accomplishments to everyone, then he is trying too hard.

Grace I. Liu '00

April 19, 1999

First Assassin, What's Next?

To the editors:

I am writing to wholeheartedly concur with Bryan Leach's attack on Quincy Assassin (Op-ed, April 19). The game is one of Harvard's worst traditions, and I would rejoice at its abolishment.

Leach's letter not only afforded me an opportunity to cheer on a like-minded adversary of Assassin. It also reminded me of the many other things which I do not like yet which the moronic Harvard administration refuses to ban. Consider, for example, garbanzo beans. I hate garbanzo beans. They have the texture of cold liver and they taste kind of nutty yet also kind of like lima beans, which I also hate. They are also a pale, waxy sort of color, one that I do not feel contributes to salad bar spirit. But garbanzo beans are virtually inescapable. Not only do they occupy their own black plastic bucket, but they also figure prominently in such dishes as hummus and pasta salad. Every time I pass the salad bar, I am bombarded with garbanzo beans. It's gotten so that it interferes with my academic schedule. I can't eat or sleep anymore. I'm just haunted by the notion that someone, somewhere, is enjoying something I hate.

With only five weeks left before spring exams, it's important that I be able to relax in the knowledge that no one is serving or eating garbanzo beans. Thank goodness there are people on this campus like Bryan Leach and me who know that while Harvard students may enjoy Assassin and garbanzo beans, they obviously do not know what is good for them.

Jeanne B. Branstetter '99

April 19, 1999

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Assassin Valuable Activity

To the editors:

The first major House event in Dunster this year was the annual Assassin game. I figured that it would be a opportunity to meet for the first time all the upperclass students roaming the halls. I knew that I'd also have an advantage because I normally kept strange hours, and so I could play without the game affecting my daily routine. Sticking to that golden rule throughout the game, I had fun. I hunted targets, made alliances, and for much of the game was the top assassin before finally losing to the eventual game winner. The most rewarding part of playing Assassin was after the game ended when I was left with a host of friendships from my targets, alliances and teammates that have outlasted the game itself.

There is nothing fundamentally wrong with Assassin as a game, and at least in Dunster there were rules restricting the games to Dunster after dark and requiring the use of bright neon colored plastic dart pistols which no one could mistake for the real guns. As for Leach's experience playing Assassin, I can only say that any game you play that you take too seriously ceases to be a fun.

James D. Mayers II '01

April 19, 1999