[Checker]: (into phone) Security, please...

You see, this would have been a doomed effort. And I didn't even want to try to sneak into the military dictatorship otherwise known as Annenberg Hall. So I just tried to survive any way I could.

A couple of days after I got here, I went to Harvard Sports Information to get some releases on some stories I was doing. There was a box of potato chip bags sitting on the floor, and the Assistant SI Director, Mike Jack-man, saw me eying them hungrily. He gave me one, which was pretty smart of him, because he knows that the way to any reporter's heart is through his or her stomach.

Now that it's all over, and the dining halls are open again, I feel energized and ready to fight. There is absolutely no justification for keeping the dining halls closed like this in the future.

Are we all supposed to move into our rooms in one food-provided day? Is this all a ploy to make us appreciate dining hall food?

No wonder Mike Berry left town so fast--he could sense the riots coming.

There's got to be a way that we can eat. What if we all sent Dean of the College Harry R. Lewis '68 e-mails over the summer saying when we'd be getting back to Harvard? Then he would know how many dining halls he'd have to open up.

Or what if the administration just opened some of them? I could deal with a line if it meant not eating at one of the Greenhouses for a 24-hour span.

But then again, the dining halls aren't worth fighting too much. Two nights ago, the main course was some Chinese pork chop concoction. It looked like shake-'n-bake pork covered with sand. I'm not even Jewish, but I know that I'd go through any religion's hell for eating that sludge.

Border, anyone?