One disillusioned student who complained about the weather inscribed with regret "should have gone to the University of New Mexico" in Lamont. Others found fault with their fellow undergraduates, "Harvard attracts childish, arrogant bastards."

But some Harvardians loyally defend the school. Countering the assertion that "Harvard sucks," a student wrote the reply "no, you do. It's okay here."

"I love this place. It just takes a lot of getting used to, so hang in there," reads another Harvard wall.

In case life becomes too inexplicable, students can use blank desks and walls as a forum for their particular opinions on life.

Who, or what, is God is one of student' favorite philosophical questions to try to tackle.

Although for centuries kings, emperors and politicians have hotly disputed this topic and men and women have shed their lifeblood to defend their opinions, even today the answer eludes scientists and philosophers alike.

Nevertheless, it seems Harvard students are determined to try their hand at discovering the truth, and at least the graffiti artists have reached some conclusions.

"God is a grilled cheese sandwich," according to one philosopher who inscribed his wisdom on the walls of Holworthy's basement laundry room.

But no, "what are you talking about? God is Derek Bok," countered another launderer, who wrote the disparaging postscript "Everyone knows that!" But apparently, not everyone does.

God's true identity is Snoopy and "Linus exists," another of the divinely inspired Holworthian horde reveals.

The only God with a congregation of more than one person is immortalized in ink on a study carrel wall in Lamont Library. Quite simply, Alan Brinkley is God." At least two others concurred, writing down "Yep" and "agreed."

But if Alan Brinkley is God, who is the devil? Graffiti artists had no comment, but one philosopher did conclude that the devil resides in all-too-close land, "thermodynamics is hell."

While God's identity remains unsolved, one graffiti artist vouched for what God has accomplished. "On the eighth day, God created bastards who scribble on desks," reads a desk on the Science Center's top floor.

On a more secular note, the pseudo-philosophers expounded on their version of life's most probing questions. What is justice? The meaning of life? The purpose behind graffiti?

"If there was any justice in this world people would occasionally be able to fly over pigeons," reads a desk in Lamont.