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In the Groovy Train

For the Moment

NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED

First guy: "Hey! I was there first!"

Second guy: "Grunt."

First guy: "Move it or lose it."

Second guy: "Make me, freakshow!"

-POW!-

-SLAP!-

Guess where the above Harvard scene took place:

A) The third row of a Kiss concert in Sanders, festival seating.

B) Beavis's living room in the Mather lowrise.

C) The basement of the Science Center at one of the e-mail terminals.

If you guessed C), congratulations! You've got your finger on the pulse of the Harvard student body. That's right--in the past few years electronic mail, known to the initiated as e-mail, has undergone a transformation in campus culture. Once a badge of geek-hood, a communication system for computer studs across the world, it has become more popular than almost any other activity--including, for many, studying. Its devotees include everyone from hard-core hackers to the computer-illiterate masses.

Richard Steen, director of computer services at the Science Center, points to an over-whelming increase in electronic mail use over the past two years. While only 59% of the senior class have accounts, 80% of sophomores are registered e-mail junkies, as are 75% of first-years, whose numbers are expected to increase over the next few months.

"Our machines handle over 12,000 messages a day, which amounts to over three million a year," notes Steen. Altogether, a whopping 69% of undergraduates (4673 students) have joined the ranks. Why this sudden urge to log in?

Actually, the e-mail boom is easy to understand. It links students at colleges all over the country. It's less trouble than mailing a letter. And hey, it's free (with each purchase of a $24,000-a-year education).

But none of that pinpoints e-mail's greatest draw: its time-wasting value. More respectable than Tetris, less obvious than just Plain Vegging, e-mail provides a welcome respite from the brain-sizzling intellectual workout students subject themselves to in demanding classes like "The Concept of the Hero in Greek Civilization."

Sometimes, writing to friends on e-mail can turn into an over-utilized procrastination game. Laurie Tanaka '96, of Winthrop House, admits she checks her messages "a little too often to get my work done."

Perhaps, the idea of e-mail as a mental vacation explains the rabid mob that descends into the Science Center basement after every class. High-strung premeds pour out of Science Center B and down the stairs, mingling with the zombie-like Core crowd filling in from Memorial Hall. Once there, they jockey for seats, of which there never seem to be enough.

According to Jason Park '97, of Weld, "On certain peak hours, people can wait in line for ten minutes for a computer."

Those not lucky enough to instantly comandeer a terminal are left with a few options:

1. Leave. ("What? Without checking my messages?")

2. Lurk beside an occupied computer, sticking their faces intrusively into the e-mailer's personal space in hopes of scaring him or her into a hastier logout. This is the most popular tactic, especially during peak hours.

3. Start a computer-room brawl of the abovementioned "move it or lose it" variety.

If none of these options appeals, you can also take your chances on a computer where someone else has left a coat or a bag. However, a word to the wise: if you opt for this sneaky trick, wear protective clothing. You may get attacked from behind by a furious, foaming first-year who had been trying to print out her Expos revision when all of a sudden you hijacked her computer, to do E-MAIL, no less! She may then whack you with her bag (not that this ever happened to me, especially not last week after justice).

Many students actually admitted, under conditions of anonymity, that they send messages to other Harvard students, and sometimes even to people who live in the same house. Usually, these far-gone types check their mail way too often, acquire a haggard, frenzied air, and find themselves drifting through the Science Center at the most ungodly hours. Sound like fun? If you're a procrastinator who's outgrown "Cosmopolitan" or "Blades of Steel," go over and open an account. Within a few short weeks, this could be you.

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