Corker, Hersh and Morris joined up with man-about-Harvard and proud Matherite Hunter A. Maats ’04 to form Mather’s Department of War. The enemy: Kirkland. The cause: Maats, in his official capacity as minister of war, cited mean e-mails by a blocking group of Mather House defectors to Kirkland and a tip that Kirklandites had stolen the Adams House gong—both grievances that needed to be avenged.

But Corker, as minister of propaganda, admitted that in large part, the war was started because “it was fun, and a way of bringing back that old traditional Harvard spirit.”

The historic subtext of the Mather Department of War’s actions did not always elicit the proper responses, however. When Kirkland falsely blamed Mather for filling Cabot door boxes with dead fish, Corker and Maats submitted to The Crimson a copy of a letter that seemed to be signed by three Cabot residentsclaiming to be members of the club International Nature and Conservancy for Really Endangered Animals that are Seemingly Expendable (INCREASE). The letter placed the blame on Kirkland.

To Corker’s disappointment, no one (not even The Crimson) got it.

The acronym refers to Harvard’s most staunchly Puritan president, Increase Mather—who presided over Harvard from 1685 to 1701—after whom Mather House is named. The letter might have been used as an important clue regarding the true origins of the Spring 2004 Interhouse wars.

Though these historic subtleties may not have hit their mark, Maats asserts that, in combat, Corker was a powerful asset to the war team.

“There are elements of Caesar, elements of Napoleon,” he says of Corker. “Well, obviously, he has more of a physical presence than Napoleon. I guess, maybe the brain of Napoleon, and the body of Alexander.”

Despite his numerous valiant efforts on behalf of the Harvard social scene, Corker will not quite be able to say “Veni, Vidi, Vici” upon graduation. He says that the number of improvements he would have liked to impose upon the social scene here are simply too numerous and ambitious to have been possible during his four short years here.

“One of my tutors once put it well: ‘This place is good for the mind, but bad for the soul,’” declared Corker, who says he is close to a number of professors and has been “very happy” with his academic career at Harvard. (It culminated in a thesis on Cuban athletes, inspired by many visits to Cuba over his college years, trips which allowed him to befriend a number of professional boxers there.)

Corker, a proud member of the Delphic since his junior year, has a radical proposal regarding final clubs: “I’d like to see Harvard be more like Yale, where you can only join in your senior year.” Corker explained his radical conclusion, saying that the final clubs “suck up about 14 percent of the guys who are the ones who like to party the most. If they couldn’t join until they were seniors, they would devote that energy to making the social scene better in their Houses.”

Though he sees final clubs as distracting from a more universally vibrant social scene, Corker blames the administration more than the actual clubs for Harvard’s social problems.

Although Corker admitted it might be difficult for the administration to buy up final clubs and transform them into places available to a greater part of the student body, he likes the idea. Failing that, however, he said he still believes that “the administration is really slipping on student life. Even if it isn’t involved directly, it can assist and aid those who do try to change it.”

Nevertheless, Corker asserts that his relationship with the administration has generally been positive—even if they did make HarvardParties.com change its r’s to h’s.

“We’ve dealt with the dean’s office so much. But even Summers has told me, ‘[HahvahdParties.com] is an OK idea,’” Corker says, assuming a superior, Summers-esque voice for the last bit.

Corker says he hopes that he will have made the most difference for first-year students.