Last year it was the gong--this year it is tiny white stickers. The interhouse brouhaha is back, and once again our friends in Adams House are the culprits behind the uproar. Earlier this month, the Adams House Committee labeled all resident I.D. cards in order to facilitate the enforcement of draconian interhouse restrictions. The result has been an overflow into Quincy House that has flooded both Lowell and Leverett dining halls as well.

Admittedly, it would be unfair to place all the blame on Adams. This past summer, Eliot and Kirkland House both revamped their kitchens. But only Eliot or Kirkland residents, and their one privileged friend per meal, are permitted to enjoy this luxury. Pforzheimer recently held a vote on whether to impose a symbolic retaliation against Adams House. (Yesterday, Adams responded by issuing its own declaration of hostilities against Pforzheimer.) We are in the midst of a war, where our only refuge--or guaranteed meal, for that matter--lies in our home base or the gracious pardon of a member of an enemy camp willing to invite you into his territory.

We recognize that this interhouse dining feud began with restrictions meant to curb lines in various dining halls and to relieve the pressure on kitchens in especially popular dining halls--both quite justifiable reasons. But the honest truth is that the location and accessibility of dining halls close to the Yard becomes a serious issue when rushing from one hourly to the next. And everyone should declare and interhouse truce with Quad residents who barely have time to catch a shuttle, dash into Currier, grab a chickwich and return to the academic trenches.

Lunches or dinners are a great time for student groups to conduct meetings on campus. And meals are a great opportunity for students to unwind and catch up with a friend or two. Unfortunately, none of these not only harmless, but unavoidable scenarios, can play out within the confines of the dining halls' rigid regulations.

One could argue that strict interhouse rules are building house community. Because students know the one guaranteed location they will receive a hot meal is also the place they live, they return to their respective houses for meals, despite their inconvenience in location or their unfriendly policies towards visitors. But returning to Houses for a guaranteed meal is hardly building house community--unless the community is that of a refugee camp revitalizing its members with sustenance during the day and a roof above their heads at night. The current system pits Houses against each other to build house community at the expense of the larger Harvard community.

There must be a solution besides branding and banishment; such absolutes are ridiculous in a peaceful community. Might we suggest a few more moderate solutions of a coordinated interhouse system. Interhouse dining bans could be rotated on a regular schedule. Dining Services should coordinate a system wherein convenient dining halls close down to interhouse visitors on an alternating basis. Or perhaps student groups could be allowed to eat wherever they pleased, but only until a certain time. Before this set time--6 p.m., for example, students could eat wherever they wanted, but after the cutoff we could return to restrictions. Dining halls could take a break from the hustle and bustle, house communities could enjoy a regular shelter from outsiders, while at the same time hungry students could be assured that there would always be a few convenient places to eat willing to welcome them with open arms.

We sympathize with those beleaguered by meal-time chaos. But come on people--why can't we all just get along?