THERE WAS A DANGEROUS hoax perpetrated on the American people this summer--and I'm not talking about H. Ross Perot (who seems to be the only American who really listened to Harry Truman; he couldn't stand the heat, so he got out of the kitchen). What's sad is that the people who were taken in the most were poor, innocent incoming college freshmen.

If sex, beer, sunshine and big rooms were what you expecting from college, then television was successful when they created two fictional worlds for their fall line-ups, "Freshman Dorm" and "Class of '96."

Even the terminology of the shows has an evil foreboding. At Harvard, or any other liberal-minded, liberal education-driven cultural elite factory, we use gender neutral terms for all designations of human characteristics. We have no freshmen here. We have first year students.

There are a lot of things that will seem confusing to a student in his or her first week of school. Dealing with roommates for, perhaps, the first time. Picking out a balanced meal in the Union. And if you live at 29 Garden St., getting to the Union.

The revolutionary people at the Fox network would like to raise your expectations of what college life should be like during your first year. Your roommates will be beautiful. You will be beautiful. You will have enough room for all your stuff. There will be wild sex orgies every night.

And this from the people who fired one of their top executives for hiring a stripper. It's family values time in America, but only depending on which advertisers you are pandering to at the moment.

My sponsors, however, are very liberal minded. As long as I walk the dog and wash the dishes, they will continue to pay my tuition. So sit back, grab some popcorn, and enjoy what television couldn't bring you in this election year...

Nightmare on Mass. Ave, Part 96

OPENING: Hazy shots of our future stars piling into stations wagons and minivans loaded with stuff, also teary goodbyes with younger siblings and pets--set to pumping rock music. Then shift to crystal clear air shots of quintessential Harvard (credited to "Good Morning America" and the Al Gore for President 2000 campaign video team), overhead camera zooms in on car exhaist filled Soldiers Field parking lot where the our smiling stars alternately jump out of their respective automobiles to buy Confi guides and t-shirts from sunburned and sweaty upperclass students downing Snapple--their tortured faces foreshadow the impending doom. Quick fade to black.

VOICEOVER: "You thought college would be like 'Freshman Dorm' or `Class of '96, but this is Harvard..."

COMMERCIAL: Encylcopedia Britannica, No-Doze, Smartfood...

SMALL GIRL WITH long hair wearing a flowerery sundress and Birkenstocks is standing on a dorm issue chair (splintery wood with a vinyl-covered seat cushion that is an off-brown color that might, at one time, either have been red or beige) hanging love beads from the grilling under the top tier of black metal bunk beds. Incense burns on the creacked window ledge. Enter a girl in Umbro shorts, carrying duffle bags and a lacrosse stick.

ROOMMATE: Hi, are you living here too? I didn't get one of those letters over the summer telling me who my roommate was going to be. I'm Heather.

ROOMMATE 2: I didn't get one of those either. Are they always this messed up about mailing people things around here? I mean, you'd think this was Harvard and they could get mail out on time. Oh, I'm Julie, by the way.

This is a pretty cool room, (scanning spacious, Iuxurious, well ventilated, newly painted--except for a few neglected spots--two bedroom plus common room spread in Thayer) I wonder who lived here before us? Kennedy? T.S. Eliot? That guy from "The Munsters"?

ROOMMATE: I don't know. Wouldn't there be a plaque or something? I was putting these things on the bunk bed, but I don't know why there are bunk beds in here if there are only two of us. It's great that we get our own rooms. I was worried that I'd have to share a bed room with somebody, and if we didn't get along that would be horrible.

Scary music...

Enter a small girl in jeans and a t-shirt lugging a huge suitcase and a backpack.

Other ROOMMATE: Is this room 40?

ROOMMATE and ROOMMATE 2: Yes.

Other ROOMMATE: Great, I've been lugging all this stuff from the airport and I'm exhausted.

ROOMATE: You're in here too?

Other ROOMMATE: Sure, didn't you get that letter over the summer? The one that came with all the study guides for the QRR?

ROOMMATE 2: What's that? Scary music...

Other ROOMMATE: What, the Science Center? It's a big building that looks like a Kodak camera.

ROOMMATE 2: I know that. What's the QRR?

Other ROOMMATE: It's the math test that you have to pass or else they publish those embarrassing photographs your parents always have of you as a baby--naked on the beach or in a tub.

No, only kidding. It's not that bad. They just put you on academic probation and make you take a year-long course to teach you how to read graphs and figure out percentages. But don't worry. It's really easy, you could probably study for it in three or four days. It's just a couple of standard deviation formulas, some basic calculus, quantum physics. It's about as difficult as putting together a futon.

THERE IS A KNOCK on the open door and two guys come in. They are wearing tan shorts and polo shirts--a variation of the fall wardrobe, tan pants and a polo shirt, which is a variation of the winter wardrobe, tan pants and a sweater.

GUY: Hi, we live downstairs. I'm Bill and this is this is my roommate George Washington.

GEORGE: Hi.

ROOMMATE: George, like the president, right.

GEORGE: He was my great, great, great uncle.

GUY: We were going to the dining hall to eat dinner. Do you guys want to go?

Other ROOMMATE: Sure. I wonder if the food is good?

Scary music...

COMMERCIAL: Tastycakes. Oreo Cookies. Mini Ritz Crackers...

The group proceeds to the Union, picking up 12 or 13 other people from the dorm on the way down the stairs. Out side, it is dark and drizzling. Mud seeps onto the walkways. Construction debris floats along the grass. As they approach, they see hoards of first year students waiting in line. An hour later, they enter the cafeteria line. On the steam table: Beef Tips. Broccoli Walnut Stir-Fry with Spicy Peanut Sauce. Lima beans.

ROOMMATE, ROOMMATE 2 and Other ROOMMATE: I think I'll just have salad.

Beth L. Pinsker '93 is the editorial chair of The Crimson. She survived her first year on the kindness of strangers handing out free ice cream and potato chips at introductory meetings of campus organizations.