The Mail HO HO HO

To the Editors of the CRIMSON:

The Joycean epiphany in John G. Short's fantasy-ridden account of the Weatherman incidents in Chicago comes in the final paragraph. Short knows that the instant revolution of Weathermen and other such groups is merely an extension of their oedipal urge to kill the repressive father. As Short wings away from riot-torn central Chicago to the relative security of the Harvard womb, he recalls how he used "to sit every morning when I was 14 years old in a big gothie chapel dreaming of machine-gunning the headmaster and deacons when they walked out the front door." So Chicago must burn because John G. Short hated mandatory chapel at his prep school! Fuck you, Mr. Chip/ President Nixon. Ho Ho Ho Chi Minh.

There are too many 14 year olds at Harvard.