Lucky Leverettites are stepping out on the town next week. On May 6, lucky spring formalgoers will enter the magical world of toys as they make their way to F.A.O. Schwartz in Boston. And yes, they will get to play with the toys.

The Leverett Informal is an even greater triumph given the history of sketchiness that cloaks House formals. For instance, Quincy House residents must brave the mysterious "Club Joy." Other House members never get to leave Cambridge at all. For instance, Adams House residents may engender campus-wide envy for their dining hall, but while eating there is a culinary delight, one can't imagine that the same joy accompanies waltzing in it. Dartbord, for instance, would simply be too afraid of being gonged out of the dance. How embarrassing! They may do it up right with lights and clear the floor of tables, but nothing beats swinging with your favorite teddy (bear).

Dartboard is pleased that House Masters "Chief" and Ann Georgi have shown such a deep understanding of what college students really want. A night on the town would not be complete without stuffed animals to hug, and Barbies to dress up to match your outfit. As for Dartboard, we look forward to testing all the new Nintendo games. After all, we have to decide which ones to buy for reading period distraction.

`You Have Only Yourself to Blame'

Last Sunday, the computer virus Chernobyl disabled the hard drives of computers across the Campus, preventing access to everything from theses to lowly expos papers. Those who lacked sufficient protection in the form of anti-viral programs had to suffer both the loss of countless hours as they attempted to restore their papers and the supercilious comments of their peers. The number of students who do, indeed, back up every assignment they have on a disk is quite small. Harvard students prize efficiency, and so due to the rarity of complete computer failure, not many expend the effort required to insert a disk.

However, Harvard students rarely turn their noses up at any opportunity to be gently sanctimonious and condescending to their peers. Therefore, the fact that 99 percent of the Harvard student body could have been in the same position as the virus victims does not lighten the load of the moral bandwagon.

It remains chock full of people who, upon hearing you gripe about the loss of your eightpage final paper for a moral reasoning class, question ingenuously "Did you back it up on a disk?" when really, had you done so, your entire motivation for complaining would have been destroyed.

Or even better, "You should really print out every page after you write it," when the paper involved is a three-page response paper for a Literature and Arts B Core.

Your first instinct might be to reply with an air of moral superiority when you read such comments as, "If this were my fault in any way I'd be angry about it, but as it is, there's nothing I can do," as Andrew G. Eil 02 said in this Wednesday's Crimson. Perhaps you thought, "At least now you've learned the lesson that you need to back up all your files in the future." Don't feel guilty--even the victims of the virus must have had a fleeting thought to that effect.

But now, as the dust settles, thesis-writers have reached page 83 in the scanning of their hard copy, and most have jury-rigged their hard drive to give access to their files, that thought fades away. What are the chances of another virus striking Harvard again this year? Life at Harvard goes on, and the future prevention of lost paper disasters still isn't considered worth the effort required to back up one's entire hard drive. DANCING IN TOYLAND-Meredith B. Osborn; COMPUTER VIRUS WOES-Breezy H. Tollinger