The Path to Public Service at SEAS
Should Supreme Court Justices Have Term Limits? That ‘Would Be Fine,’ Breyer Says at Harvard IOP Forum
Harvard Right to Life Hosts Anti-Abortion Event With Students For Life President
Harvard Researchers Debunk Popular Sleep Myths in New Study
Journalists Discuss Trump’s Effect on the GOP at Harvard IOP Forum
(Ed. Note--The Crimson does not necessarily endorse opinions expressed in printed communications. No attention will be paid to anonymous letters and only under special conditions, at the request of the writer, will names be withheld.)
Ed. note--Henry J. Goudey maintained in a CRIMSON interview Thursday that the world was not a globe but a disc with the North Pole at the center. He discounted the existence of a South Pole with the tuference that Admiral Byrd has been laboring under a misapprehension these last few years. The perturbation which his statement has caused is disclosed by the following communication from two undergraduates who choose to remain anonymous.
We're all so sorry for Admiral Byrd!
What is the trouble? Why, haven't you heard?
He never stayed home like other folks,
But was lured afar by a popular hoax.
With pity we learn that his life-long goal
Is a non-existent Southern Pole.
For Mr. Goudey, in his new book,
Has proved that the Admiral has been took
Over the bumps: that the earth is flat
Not round. Now, what do you think of that?
We're all so sorry for Mrs. Byrd;
Our hearts with sympathy are stirred.
The downfall of her joy and pride
Was started when Columbus lied.
Come on, good people, shed a tear--
The earth has never been a sphere.
And Mrs. Byrd is quite undone,
Her castles caving, one by one,
And now, because of this sad story
She'll bask in no reflected glory.
We're all so sorry for Junior Byrd
Because his famous papa erred
For if the world is but a dise
Just how can a South Pole exist?
In youthful ignorance he dreamed of brave new worlds. How he's been reamed!
Recipient of his schoolmates scorn
Our sympathetic souls are torn
So pity little Junior's fate, All,
For he's woundup behind the eight-ball.
We're sorry most for Colonel Ruppert
How could a tycoon be so stuppert?
He'll find there isn't any honey
In putting up a lot of money
And then to have his expedition
Because of faulty supposition
Explore and map and fix his name
To (Byrd! Thy everlasting shame!)
Not brand new lands of ice and snow
But underparts of Mexico.
Let's give the Byrd to Mr. Goudey
For having the crust to be so rowdy
And spoiling other people's fun
By stripping Dick of laurels won.
He clearly cautions all posterity
To shun such ignorant temerity.
He frankly makes us rather ill.
We wish he'd courteously be still.
We counter with this adage ol':
A Byrd in the land is worth two at the Pole.
Want to keep up with breaking news? Subscribe to our email newsletter.