Wake up. Wealth, status, the love of beautiful women, and instant admission to the Business School await you as a member of the Business Board.

Our Business editors glitter when they walk.

In the foul, rotting jungles of Indo-China, a Crimson news board candidate stands boiling lunch in his pith helmet. Cool, alert, with nerves of steel, one senses immediately that he is a man to be trusted. And small wonder, for he is. But he was not always so. Once there was a time when he was harried and driven by a domineering tutor and an iron system which kept him from becoming the man he potentially was. Now look at him. Pit him against the jungle. Match him with University Hall.

Our news board editors swagger when they walk.

An old lady is retching and dying of malnutrition in the gutter just out of earshot of the splendid mansion; the contrast is caught by a Crimson photographer, and the resulting photograph--a major work of proletarian art in its own right--causes a scandal which rocks the very foundations of a sick, complacent social order. No news story could have done this. No letter to the Alumni Bulletin or notice in the University Gazette would have done this. Only a Crimson photograph.

Our photographers march with the people.

All this and more is yours for the taking. Come at 7:30 December 5 or 6. The Life Force calls you.