CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE CRIMSON KIND

Early this week, Dartboard's diligent TV writer was flipping channels (and only flipping, mind you, not, heaven forbid, watching ) he caught a most curious dialogue on Oprah. A man grimly recounted the details of his alien abduction. It was tame fare for the voluminous queen of daytime trash, nothing all out of the ordinary.

The proof of such Close Encounters is, as with all things, in the pudding, and this fellow's pudding was rich with Veritas. He didn't ask us to believe his abduction story just on the basis of his say-so (for, as he casually informed the assembled crowd of Oprah-worshippers, not even his own father--surprise, surprise--lent any credence to that), but offered as hard evidence a tape. Not of the aliens mind you; but of his own screams during a hypnosis session when he "relived" the abduction. How much more prima facie can you get?

But that wasn't tall. For who can talk of Veritas without the ratification of one of the Veritas' high priests--a Harvard Medical School Professor of Psychiatry, assured the audience in clam academic terms that alien abductions are undeniably common. The aliens, according to his research, are particularly interested in why we humans are so full of hostility, when we have such "a nice planet." This leads Dartboard to pose a corollary question--if our planet in truly so "nice," why doesn't Dr. Mack join us here on its surface rather than dilly-dallying around Cloud Nine?

It is embarrassing enough that a Harvard professor should deign to appear on the same stage with a woman who has made her fortune by persuading people to reveal to national television shameful stories that in a more tasteful age they would have gladly paid copious blackmail to suppress.

But the insult to those of us who have forced over $80,000 for the honor of the Veritas stamp was compounded by the fact that Dr. Mack's particular appearance was calculated to give a veneer of respectability to tales of alien abduction. Alien abduction, the one canard of vacuous day-time info-tainment that not even its trailer-park-bound viewership beats with a straight face!

Worse yet the sedulous "news" hounds at WHDH didn't miss the appearance either. The story of the Harvard professor who believes in little green man shared up billing with the usual Oprah is certainly an insult; but to be laughed at by R.D. Sahl is surely a much deeper slander. May some of these supposedly ubiquitous aliens carry their Cantabridgian prophet away!

DO U.C. WHAT I SEE?

As students voted in the truncated Undergraduate Council referendum this week, our duly selection representatives kicked their electoral juggernaut into high gear. Anyone who passed through Tercentenary Theater Thursday morning was treated to the rather persuasive endorsement of a sign emblazoned with the message "Vote Yes on U.C. Referendum." Its bearer embodied all the credibility of our august representatives--a fellow in an ape suit.

Whether our furry friend was a hired shill or just (as recent Salient articles would suggest) the council's accountant pulling double duty is unclear. This singularly bizarre display only confirms the public relations genius that we have all come to expect from the council.

Aside from the compelling simian endorsement, the council made a few other week attempts at propaganda. Most notable was the strategically timed doordrop of the sporadic council Courier. Published with our term bill money, the council's publicity rag abandoned all pretense of neutrality, urging a "Yes" vote from all comers. If the council leadership has the cheek to use our term-bill money to persuade us to deliver more lucre into their coffers, then we a Dartboard have something to say to them: Congratulations! You have a promising future in politics.

PREFROSH BEWARE

The following is a public services message for all the fresh-faced-red-folder-toting invaders that have landed in Cambridge this weekend.

Among all the random falsehoods the Crimson Key Society will gleefully propagate for the benefit of your innocent ears, there is one grain of truth: that is, God did attend Harvard.

Doubters need only take a quick look at the sky. Harvard has the presence of mind to invite prospective freshman to Cambridge during spring. By spring, we don't mean the time between the vernal equinox and the summer solstice.

Spring, in Cambridge, is the five day period in which the sun is visible and the temperature is above 40 degrees but below 90. Since there is no astronomical reason that this period should fall at the same time each year, Harvard has no scientific basis on which to assume that pre-frosh weekend will coincide with it.

That's where our most famous alumnus comes in. And remember, he'll punish you if you spurn His Cantabridgian Eden for the Purgatory in Connecticut.