Howdy folks. This is it. My last column for which underclass students will be on campus. So in it I have decided to talk about things that only certain seniors will get.

Remember when there was no Grafton? No random Tour de France detours through the Square? No black people? Ah, those were the days.

As you can probably tell, this time of year is full of reflection for me. Damn mirrors just keep popping up everywhere so I carry a rock with me at all times.

Anyway, I have been thinking (yes, it does happen from time to time) about those occurrences, experiences, people and gnomes that most have affected my time here.

If I had to pick one thing that really stood out in my Harvard career in terms of its influence on me, it would not be the Immoral Reasoning nor Social Paralysis 10. Rather, it would be the space-time continuum.

But if I had to pick two things, the first would be the space-time continuum, and the second would be the Nine-Nine List, brainwashedly known as The List.

Just what is The List? Some of you may have heard about it before, perhaps when you were awakened by it's message on your computer screen.

Others have no idea what I'm talking about and are calling University Health Services on my behalf.

Unfortunately, no one can be told what The List is, you must experience it for yourself.

But, seeing as that's not going to happen, I'll do my best to tell you about it.

The List is an e-mail community (our stock will split if we call it an e-community) of some seventy-odd black people in the class of 1999, with a few white people thrown in for reverse affirmative action.

It was founded by a crazy man our first year, and we've been duped into participation ever since.

Like a newsgroup or bulletin board, people post messages to The List--it's nothing fancy, just a never-ending reply-to-all e-mail message--and others respond, rebuke or what have you.

The discussions have spanned a wide variety of topics, and the phenomenon of The List has become some sort of hit TV show minus the commercials and unemployed white people in a Central Park West apartment.

I have entered the dining hall, approaching a table of friends, to hear them discuss the latest happenings on The List.