Final club members seem to have found some new friends this past week.

Their new "squeezes" don't argue about sexism and exploitation. They don't criticize the clubs for being bastions of elitism. In fact, they don't even really cluck-unless their necks are clutched just a little too tightly.

Yes, club members have found their dream dates: chickens. And perhaps they're the only females who could really tolerate the smell of being up-close-and-personal to a real, live final club member.

Once again, it's initiation season for the nine all-male final clubs at Harvard University. Now the Harvard population-and even the Cambridge community are being treated to the delectable sight of men publically streaking and urinating in public.

Slick men with tight pink tank tops glide across campus. A half-naked guy in a wig sings a lively Judy Garland medley in the Union. And two Owl members demonstrate the homoerotic nature of their brotherly bonds by performing a mock "marriage" in front of Widener library.

To be sure, most of it is somewhat amusing. It's always entertaining to watch others make complete jackasses out of themselves-especially when they seem to have no compunction about doing it. And the guy who stood up in Gen. Fd. 105 clad only in tightly-whites and a T-shirt shouting "Dr. Coles we love you. Please don't leave," is only expressing a sentiment shared by a majority of the Harvard undergraduate population. (Although scenes like that may scar Coles enough to make him leave Cambridge permanently.)

Still, be glad that it's them making asses out of themselves up there, and not you. And rejoice that no one's questioning your capabilities to attend Harvard.