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Gobble.

The Adams House dining hall was buzzing as always with Crimson editors last Sunday night. They weren't monopolizing the long tables and snarfing escalloped turkey in 10-person posses, though. Instead, they were evenly distributed among the oft-crowded-out Adamsians. It wasn't the kick-off for the latest "Crimeds Are People, Too" campaign. Any casual observer could see that.

The Crimeds were seated in pairs of two and engaged in serious, if a little stilted, conversation. One of the twosome was usually talking rapidly, a nervous smile punctuating each of his or her points. The listener seemed reserved, relaxed, even smug. They were oblivious to the diners around them.

In any corner of the wood-panelled mess hall, the casual listener could hear the buzz phrases.

"You've given me something to think about."

"Are there any concerns you'd like me to address now?"

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"I just want what's best for the Crimson."

You see, we're looking to choose the new leadership at The Crimson this week. Candidates have been schmoozing executives of the 120th board (pompous name, eh? It's a remnant from those days of FDR and the pipe-smoking, post-adolescent males who founded the newspaper), trying to communicate their visions for 14 Plympton St. It's a fun process, this settling the question of succession. And even as you read this, presidential hopefuls are fielding tough questions and crafting diplomatic, yet passionate answers.

Tommorrow, after 42.5 hours of interviews and countless more hours of debate, it'll all be over.

Good luck all you turkeys.

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