A Few Immodest Proposals

I think that living in the Radcliffe Quadrangle is probably a lot like having a third Ear. There would definitely be nuisances that came along with that extra ear, including ill- Fitting hats, piercing dilemmas and embarassing Explanations every time you changed barbers. But I imagine that the most annoying thing in the world about having a third ear would be people telling you that it must be great to have an extra ear, saying things like, "I bet you really get your money's worth out of surround sound."

Similarly, the worst part of life in the Quad is all the people who say it is the best place in the world. If Harvard had assigned these people housing in a cave in Peru, they would still be cheerful about it. "I love the time I have to think on the 6,000-mile burro ride to my 9 a.m. class," they would say. They are the same people who, after reading this article, will march right up to me at dinner in the dining hall and tell me that there's no way the Quad could be any better. These are the people that I will then hit over the head with my dining hall tray and run.

Let's face it, folks, the Quad isn't perfect. It's a damn long way from everywhere I need to go. It's time to talk about improvements.

First on the list is an improvement in transportation: the Quad/Yard catapult system. The catapults, one in Harvard Yard and one on the Quad grass, would be large, relatively cheap to build and operated by engineering and physics graduate students who pass an accuracy test.

Students who need to get from one launching site to another when no shuttle is waiting would be strapped into the catapult while adjustments were made for wind, weather and any buildings recently constructed on the flight path. If all goes well, the student would then be flung over half of Cambridge to his or her destination, landing in a thirty-foot-wide catcher's mitt specially constructed near the other catapult. In addition to their regular duties, for the betterment of Quad-river relations, the catapult operators would be allowed to seize any river-dwelling student who is heard to say "You live in the Quad? I've never even been there before!” and fire them at high speed into the side of the Sheraton Commander.

Also, in a much-needed move to fight Quad stereotypes, the catapult operators would be required to grab any Quadling who came to breakfast wearing inappropriate clothing (including, but not limited to, nightgowns, obvious pajamas, bathrobes and spandex-based ensembles) and hurl them into Connecticut.

Next, we have to deal with Jordan--for you river people, living in Jordan is like being Quaded from the Quad. If students still have to live in this far-away dorm, they should be compensated with a wakeup call every weekday morning from President Neil L. Rudenstine's other duties should include "Wrestle-the President" study breaks and personal supervision of a Jordan petting zoo.

After the catapult is constructed, the next bonus for those assigned to the Quad should be a Quad Beverage Geyser. This would be an enormous underground beverage reservoir underneath the grass of the Quad, which once every week would erupt like Old Faithful. Quadlings could then gather in front of their dorms with buckets and cups and catch the beverage-of-the-week as it falls. Certain landscaping difficulties could result--Jim Beam Week would probably kill all the grass, and Orange Tang week would leave a stain that could be seen from space--but these are minor difficulties that could easily be worked out.

As potential Quad improvements go, these are just the tip of the iceberg--other possibilities include a student-run Contented Workers Table Grape Plantation (complete witk big-screen TVs and roving masseuses in the fields) and a Quad militia, charged with the armed takeover and subjugation of Lesley College. I'm sure that there many other ways for the Quad to be improved which I haven't thought of yet. When I do, the students of Harvard University will be the first to know--just as soon as I get out of this bathrobe.

David A. Fahrenthold '00 is a Crimson editor and a resident of Pforzheimer House.