Sad@Lamont

Too much ink has already been spilled on or about boredatlamont.com, the tell-all forum that stormed onto the Harvard scene earlier this year. But during this reading period lull, the site has exploded into a disturbingly personal discussion that warrants attention from a much wider audience than those just looking for sex, comedy, or an ego boost.

For the few who have not read "B@L," the allure of the anonymous, online chat room is its unabashed voyeurism: the graphic sexual fantasies and the inexplicable descriptions of people whom writers "know" from the dining hall, section, or, most likely, Facebook. Recently, boredatlamont engaged my curiosity because my name has been mentioned on its pages repeatedly. But I would have lost interest quickly had the comments simply ranged from the flattering ("Andrew Fine is my McDreamy") to the hurtful ("Andrew Fine is fugly").

On closer inspection, however, the site has shed its eye-catching, gossip-column skin and revealed its bleaker side as an outlet for the closeted, the saddened, and the isolated. These explicit posts of loneliness and depression—buried amid comments that describe Harvard-only porn casts or detail masturbatory techniques in Mather Library—deserve the most attention, and interestingly have garnered the most votes of agreement on the site.

"I CRAVE HUMAN CONTACT" from Jan. 2 and a lengthier post on New Year’s Day ("as one chapter of loneliness closes, another vast empty year begins.... sad self-pitying existence") have both risen to the top of boredatlamont’s "week’s best" list. Other confessions—such as "I’m so depressed…I’m useless" from Jan 3rd—are dishearteningly frequent.

Yet in this age of anonymous chat rooms and Lamont glory holes (now filled-in), the possibility of "human contact" is becoming much more distant. With the ever-strengthening communities that have formed on sites like boredatlamont (one writer excused himself on Monday night for dinner and assured other commentators that he would be back soon), online forums could institute a vicious cycle in which the most vulnerable students become reliant on virtual reality as their medium of contact.

The "solution" to such a dilemma is complicated. Maybe a B@L social in Lamont Library Café or a BGLTSA-sponsored speed-dating event would fulfill posters’ wants—after all, as one wrote, "The funny thing is that I’ll probably see all you sad fuckers at dinner time and have no idea who you are :(."

For many, however, the anonymity of boredatlamont is its greatest attraction: the ability to vent one’s frustrations and sadness without facing another person. Luckily, anonymity at Harvard is not dependent on the internet. In lieu of a comforting social scene, there are numerous resources—including Room 13, Contact, Response, and ECHO—that not only guarantee one’s anonymity, but also include human contact, and likely provide more reliable help than the pages of B@L.

And for those who find appeal in boredatlamont’s anonymity because of nerves, my guess is that that your crush is much less intimidating than you believe. Rather than debate with strangers about whether or not he or she is friendly, mean, promiscuous, or none of the above, say hi to him or her in Lamont. I am still waiting to hear from whoever called me "McDreamy."

Andrew D. Fine ’09, a Crimson editorial editor, is a social studies concentrator in Eliot House.