There is an epidemic spreading across Harvard's student population. It is vast, quick moving and merciless. And no, I'm not talking about last week's stomach flu. I am talking about yarn people. Yes, you know exactly what I'm referring to: knitting.

Harvard knitters often knit on the sly; it's a hush-hush type of deal. Harvard's female population has spent its recent months slowly but surely converting into a caucus of avid knitters. Or perhaps they have always been knitting, and here is some evidence:

Let's examine what happened en route to a swim team dual meet at Dartmouth. I exited my seat at the front of the bus in search of the facilities located in the rear, when I was confronted by the terrifying image of a bus full of knitting grandmas.

"Oh no!" I thought. "How could this be? My enthusiastic, fun loving team has been infiltrated!" I turned to my esteemed teammate, Susan Brunka '03, for some answers.

"What are you doing?"

"Knitting a scarf."

"Where'd you learn how to do that?" "On the Internet."

"Isn't that purling?"

"What's purling?"

"It's like knitting, but backwards."

"I don't know. I'm just doing what it said on the webpage."

Clearly, knitting at Harvard has a distinct 21st century edge to it. Distressed, I promptly pressed the incident out of my mind, assuming it to be an isolated incident.

Unfortunately, my hope of an isolated incident was smashed to bits 24 hours later when I entered my Leverett House dormroom to find not one, not two, but three of my five roommates sitting in a circle, knitting and gossiping like a bunch of 80 year-old grandmas. Two of them were not even doing their own knitting.

So, not only do these Harvard knitters knit on the sly as an exclusive activity with inherent social guidelines, but they do each other's knitting, with no apparent purpose. Product, therefore, is not the bottom line; the activity itself is the purpose, with product as an added bonus.

My suspicions of a widespread epidemic were confirmed when I caught myself at Pearl Arts and Crafts a day later, purchasing a set of size-13 needles and two balls of thick comfy yarn.

Now that a definite epidemic has been established, I have a theory about its point of origin: We know that smart Harvard women knit. Why? Well, first, just like men instinctively like to shoot cute furry animals, women instinctively like to create fabrics out of balls of yarn.

It's the ability to create something useful out of nothing, a kind of ingenuity. And as for Harvard undergraduate women in particular, most are incapable of inactivity; lounging around becomes boring if they're not doing something with their hands, so knitting becomes the key to relaxation. As my wide scope of research shows, Harvard women never only knit--they knit and watch movies, or knit and gossip or knit and do anything. It's a preoccupation, something productive to be done anywhere, to kill time in the dorms, to relax before vigorous athletic competitions, to relax after vigorous athletic competitions and to keep the mind busy while on the phone.

And, as an added incentive, there even exist entire books (Harvard women allegedly like books) on how to knit sweaters and socks, dog coats and gloves! It's a double bonus for any 'Cliffie, fulfilling both the inner homemaker and inner bookworm's desires simultaneously, while satisfying that Harvard urge to fill all existing pockets of free time with some formof productive and useful activity.

Yes indeed, this is a widespread Harvard phenomenon, afflicting women as young as 18, with the age of affliction recently having plummeted down from age 52. And yes, ladies and gentlemen, brace yourselves because the outbreak is here to stay.

Note: If you would like to join the epidemic, try www.skepsis.com/~tfarrell/textiles/knit/main.html for helpful step-by-step instructions with pictures.

--Arianne R. Cohen