Poor Rudy. Only a few days left as Harvard’s president, and he can’t even enjoy them. He can’t read the stacks of books that are reportedly piled in his office. He can’t put up his feet on the antique furniture. He can’t even read this paper behind his own desk, if he reads this paper at all. Why can’t Rudy get rid of the Progressive Student Labor Movement (PSLM)?

It’s not that he hasn’t tried his best.

For mild-mannered Rudenstine, the official line sounds like that of a last-action hero: I don’t negotiate with terrorists. I envision him sitting (at home?) spamming the student body, his words booming out to the faceless (and bodyless) crowd, which roars in answer, “Ru-den-stine! Ru-den-stine!”

Instead, his whispers in the night are met only with a great, collective delete.

At least he can take comfort in the fact that PSLM’s chants are met with equal student apathy. (Note: A janitor suggested to me that PSLM replace chanting with periods of silence, judging they would have greater effect by symbolizing that students and workers are waiting for the University to speak. I think he’s onto something.)

In between emails, Rudenstine must be holding his head, thinking—much as Gore must have when the Lewinsky scandal broke—why now? Just when I was about to be my own man!

The question, “Why now?” is not hard to figure out.

Rudenstine has gone out of his way to avoid conflicts, be they Harvardian, Cantabridgian, American or worse. Summers is the kind of guy who would be flattered to be on Celebrity Death Match duking it out with Courtney Love, or Julia Butterfly Hill, or Greenpeace.