Break has broken, Spring has Sprung. The post-Spring Break semester is just plain dung. The semester, dear friends, is no longer young.

We no longer have anything to look forward to. The yearnings for vacation that fueled us through March have expired. Reading period, bo!

Our lives are now devoid of mystery. We no longer piddle away the hours wondering how, when and why the baseball strike will end. We now know.

The rosy glow emanating from our healthy Harvard cheeks has dissipated. If you skied or beached over break, you probably look like a leper at this point. If you happened to be among the unlucky half of campus accustomed to taking ill the instant school gets out, just be sure to "please use the utensils provided" in certain public arenas, OK? Is it not enough that you blow your noses in the dining hall? Must you also contaminate us by using your Peter Rabbit silverware set and your Waffle House mug?

It's spring, and a young gentleperson's fancy turns to...to fallout shelters. Who are kidding? Love isn't in the air. Neither are other lethal agents, though. The scrutiny is on page 10. Sit back and relax, enjoy the show!