The Lampoon has laid an egg,--again. With its usual feeble attempt at humor, it has bungled itself into the national limelight by a ruthless and unwarranted attack on one of the finer things in life, Ann Sheridan. Of course, anyone with any discrimination knows that Miss Sheridan is hotter than West, greater than Garbo, and the oomphiest of 'em all.

Regardless of the Lampoon's idea of "success," anyone who can whoop up the front pages of "Life," "Look," and "Pic," anyone who can make a publicity photo curl up and blush like she can must be a success at something. The question is, at what?

Miss Sheridan claims she's an actress. She claims she has even played in a movie or two,--an unconfirmed statement. But if Lampy is to be foiled, Miss Sheridan has got to fork up the goods. Harvard must see this Texas heat-wave in action.

But Miss Sheridan is coy. Apparently she loves only the Lampoon. For she is content to sit out on the West Coast, surrounded by still cameras, and beckon to the Poon boys to come out and learn some oomph. This is rank injustice to the rest of the college. Since apparently only she holds the key to money-making success, since most Harvard alumni are reputedly oomphless share croppers and Fuller-brush men, Miss Sheridan is needed at college to raise a new generation of oomphy grads.

Then, too, since Poon men are grinds of the first water, probably none of them could tear themselves out of the bowels of Widener long enough to whip out to the West and the arms of La Sheridan. Hence on her shapely shoulders rests the responsibility of showing the shining light of success to the benighted dramatic critic of the Poon in particular and the student body in general.

What this college needs is Ann Sheridan, visiting lecturer on oomph, in person, to melt the snow on the sidewalks, to roam through the stacks of Widener calling to the lost souls of Poon men, to burn up the boards of the New Lecture Hall and the U. T.