Also known as, the BEST HarvardFML comment in a while, by Surly:

Someone’s VES thesis was a graphic novel. 1. Who is this person? 2. How do I meet them? 3. Why the hell am I in Gov? FML

(Source)

Last Friday, I had the honor of seeing such thesis and the wonderwoman who created it in person. As part of Dunster House’s Senior Theses Series, Mariah Bush, a senior VES concentrator, presented in front of a 20-odd person audience Elite, a graphic novel about a group of elite superheroes that was inspired by her time at Harvard. (We would inspire a superhero story, what with our fighting Gov, Math, five thousand extracurriculars and a horrifyingly non-existent dating culture at the same time. Duh.)

After a good 10 minutes struggling with the JCR door, I finally managed to get in by realizing that I was, in fact, supposed to pull. Just in time to see someone take the last piece of Finale dessert. Great. But I digress.

Usually, a thesis isn’t the kind of stuff that generates excitement. Conan O’Brien wrote a thesis during his senior year at Harvard concerning the use of children as symbols in the works of William Faulkner and Flannery O’Connor. In his words, “nobody is ever going to care.” That is perhaps putting it a little too harshly. But as I stood outside of Dunster JCR and saw a guy presenting his research project on a bug-eyed insect, I felt like going home (or more precisely, back to my comfy chair in Lamont, where I was cramming for my HAA 1 final the next day).  I’m sure it is all hard work that might potentially turn into something monumental, but it definitely isn’t the stuff I would joyfully jump out of my Lamont chair the night before a final exam and take a shuttle to see. (But I’m also a humanities nerd who’s too lazy to walk to Annenberg, let alone Dunster House, so what do I know?)

(Image: Mariah Bush ’10 with her senior thesis, Elite – A Graphic Novel)

Mariah Bush had a similar, thesis-dreading thought in mind as she declined Princeton’s admission offer and enrolled at Harvard. Eventually, she did a thesis anyway, but she wanted one that normal people would want to read. And read we did. The novel gathered a really positive response from the crowd, as people flipped through the pages and were captivated by crimson-wearing, crime-fighting and apparently elitist superheroes. Fun stuff.  Getting the proposal passed wasn’t easy. Nobody has ever done it before, and by her own admission, even her thesis adviser didn’t know a whole lot about graphic novels and comic books. Days of photo-taking and wrestling with Adobe Illustrator later, Mariah completed the project and get her own graphic novels printed.

(Image: Elite – A Graphic Novel by Mariah Bush ’10)

The verdict: Is it a masterpiece, a la Maus? Not really. Will it change your life? I don’t know. But Mariah deserves mad props just for being a 21-year-old with innovation and guts. It’s not easy being different, and it’s definitely not easy pulling off being different. She did. The graphic novel is short, but without a doubt a fun and interesting read. It’s Harvard’s first, and I’m not exaggerating when I say that it set the bar really high. Voice approves!

ETA (05/13/2010): The original version of this post lists Mariah Bush as 22 years old. She’s 21.

Yes, the sermon was about Harvard FML.

Perhaps the greatest part of the sermon is hearing Reverend Page read aloud some of the embarrassing and outrageous posts from Harvard FML. Yet, he also explores with a critical eye the nature and the “disturbing” mentality that the website fosters, warning against the kind of cynical reduction which the three letters, “FML” may propose.

“Expressing frustration through FML might work, instead of just saying ‘don’t worry, be happy’…but is it ideal? Is that the way we should cope with the bumps of our life?” Page asks. “Everytime something bad happens you shrug it off with the phrase, ‘F my life.’”

Reverend Page strikes a chord in every Harvard student’s heart when he warns against seeing the world “through FML glasses.”

“You turn a written assignment, which might be an opportunity for learning and expanding your horizons, into a burden,” he says. “You take the complex world of relationships into the simple calculus of sex.”

Yet, Harvard FML does seem to have some redeeming qualities. Page explores some of the more serious FML posts that express deep pain, the ones that use FML as “a coping mechanism,” making light of difficult situations “so that others may see.”

He quotes a few of these painful FML’s: “April 26: ‘I’m 19 and I have a drinking problem. What am I supposed to do when I am allowed to drink?’” The one great benefit of Harvard FML, Reverend Page suggests, is that it is a forum for people who feel that they have no one else to go to.

Page ends the sermon by saying that perhaps we need the presence of God instead of ” shifting responsibility to some nebulous ‘out there.’”

The Voice appreciates Reverend Page’s critical take on Harvard FML and is glad to see that the website has fostered much discussion, even research papers, around the phenomenon.

You can listen to the sermon online (or download it) here.

See our April 2009 issue on a profile of Reverend Jon Page.

Bitchgrams Presents: (un)FYL

Lately, moderating FML has started to seem like a full time job… working as a middle school guidance counselor, that is. One of the most common posts Harvard FML receives can be summed-up as: “SWEET JESUS SOMEONE DATE ME!” No need to worry, Bitchgrams is here to help.

Some highlights of Harvard’s lonely state:

Cougar, rawr.

I know more about radiocarbon dating than I do about the fun kind. FML

The cute girl I like doesn’t know I exist. I’m in a freshman seminar with her. FML

“I want your love. I don’t wanna be friends.” FML

My life is turning into Taylor Swift’s “You Belong With Me” video but without the paper unfolding at the end. FML

I’m a freshman and I’m looking for a real relationship. FML

I think I may need to go visit another school to find guys to date. FML

My divorced mother has been on more dates than I have this year. She’s 56. FML

We draw the line at the divorced mother. Notice the trend?

Solution: Ask them out already.

Boys and girls, meet… boys and girls. Although asking a person out on a real live date is perhaps foreign to our generation, this technique has, in fact, worked for all the rest of history. Judging from FML there are a huge number of students looking for something more than a night in the Delphic basement. So get off FML and stop praying for speed dating… Seriously, right now. Ask him/her out for coffee, dinner, a night of drinking and poor decisions, text, call, awkwardly Facebook message. Point is, just do it and give The Voice less to worry about.

xoxo,

Bitchgrams

Meanies.

Harvard has recently undergone some pretty crappy media coverage. Today, the Wall Street Journal has also decided to jump on the media hatefest, proposing a “Harvard M.B.A indicator,” in which fewer Harvard M.B.A.s entering the financial industry is better for the market

“[Ray Soifer] calls it a “rather esoteric but nonetheless generally accurate” long-term indicator of the direction of stocks. According to the index, when Harvard graduates pile into Wall Street jobs, the market is probably overheated and could be heading for a tumble.”

So let’s recap: Fewer Harvard grads on Wall Street = better economy. FML

12:45 a.m. – I think I have had at least twelve cups of coffee and successfully checked my Facebook more than I have showered this week in the span of an hour. I had to move out of the café because there was this study group there talking about how they found Zimbabwean money in their pockets this morning and then all I could think about was Zimbabwe and realized that, that had nothing to do with a paper on Virginia Woolfe. So, now I’m sneaking this cup of coffee upstairs.

1:17 a.m. – Oh my God, I swear the chairs on the third floor are laced with Ambien. I immediately nod off when I sit down in them. This is not going to work. Coffee I.V. anyone? Invent that. This is Harvard damn it. It’s times like these where I can’t decide if I should just go watch eight hours straight of A&E’s Intervention to feel better about my life in that I’m not snorting cocaine off of an elephant’s tusk or simply get into the zone and do some actual work. There is a kid across from me right now with a blanket and pillow. He’s in here for the long haul. I think I see food in his bag. Real breakfast of champions right there.

1:35 a.m. – Some girl walking up the stairs just acquainted her face with the floor. Perhaps she should invest in a backpack. Or a Lamont sleepover bag like that guy over there. I think I’m going to start a Lamont support group. For people that come here and they don’t really know why they’re here, but they can still introduce themselves and say hello, my name is —– and I have a problem. And its name is Lamont.

2:32 a.m. – Roommate just texted me to make sure I was still alive. Considering faking a hostage scenario to freak her out.

2:45 a.m. – That was unsuccessful. She asked if HUPD needed to get involved. What happened to irony?

3:01 a.m. – www.lamebook.com is my number one feeling right now.

3:15 a.m. – Okay. So I’m on page five. That’s good. I think I want to drop out. Be a vagabond. A barista. That’s so much coffee. I’m dropping out, it’s official. I’m going to work at Starbucks…or pull an “Into the Wild” and live in a makeshift trailer/bus but not die because I know what kinds of berries to put into my mouth—a.k.a. not the fatal kind.

4:21 a.m. – Paper finished. If this paper were a person their IQ would be astoundingly low. I would not date them. They would take me to Applebee’s and think that was a good idea for a first date and then tell me about how they accidentally got married at 17. How did I get in to this school? Also, I just left a video on my friend’s Facebook wall in “mime,” because that is a language…and I’m trapped in a glass case of emotion.

4:35 a.m. – I’m leaving now. That kid is still here and he is on a mission. He just busted out a Power Bar. There is something going down on that computer. I would date his paper.

4:45 a.m. – Back in the dorm…why can I not stop watching Failblog. I need professional help. I need it now. I also need coffee. Lots and lots of coffee. Or to be published on “Texts from Last Night.” Priorities. I haz them.

In the spirit of tonight’s late night realization, and in honor of the two-week anniversary of HarvardFML’s official launch, Noice presents, in no particular order, its top ten FMLs—these are the ones to commit to memory. After the jump!

1. Today my TF asked if I could read. FML
   Can you?
2. The lady who cleans Lamont overnight knows my name. And sometimes she shares her Red Bull with me. And by sometimes, I mean 2-3 times a week. FML
   Red Bull + Lamont = Classic Combination. Your life is looking up.
3. I sat down for my 5th interview in a day yesterday with one of the founding partners of a prestigious hedge fund. He was in a wheelchair. When I couldn’t figure out the answer to a probability question, I tried to change the topic so I asked him, “So what happened?” FML
   Dare we ask… did you get the job?
4. I’ve been working on Orgo for so long, I wrote my name as “Chem” at the top of the page. FML
   Maybe if that becomes your nickname, your TF will give you extra credit for obvious devotion.
5. Today I went to UHS because I had a stomachache. They told me I had a miscarriage. I’ve never even had sex. FML
   At least you didn’t have swine flu!
6. Today I saw the sun rise… through the big-panel windows of Lamont Cafe. FML
   Big Shoutout to Lamont which seems to get more FML recognition than Orgo and bad hook-ups combined.
7. When I eat a burrito at Boloco, I feel like cheating on Qdoba. FML
   Chipotle is feeling slightly left out of the mix.
8. Today, I realized that the only guy who calls me ‘beautiful’ and/or compliments my outfit is John, the homeless guy who stands outside CVS. FML
   Remember that Noice is checking you out too.
9. Thursday in section, I called my TF ‘Mommy’. FML
   It’s the “Mommy” distinction and not just “Mom” that spirited this one into the top ten. Are you the same person who’s TF asked if they could read? These two are eerily related.
10. I woke up at 4:30 for a flight and we just found out that we have to wait anywhere from 10-60 minutes for a group of passengers on another flight. Everyone else grumbled, I realized I could keep reading FML and fist-pumped. FML
    We feel your pain… or is it pleasure?

All we know is that HarvardFML is providing procrastination like no other. Keep the complaints coming Harvard! It’s what we do best.

I’ve realized that girls here are either uninteresting legacies/athletes/prep-schoolers or very, very unattractive. FML.

Now, this was a blow which could be tolerated. However, and ladies please prepare yourselves, a commenter named “mrcockblaster” agrees, stating, “word.” That’s right; “mrcockblaster” is disappointed with us, which leaves only one logical option:

TO CVS! Please ladies, before going out in public, at least try to make yourselves presentable to our (obviously) universally-hot male counterparts. Lipstick! Nail polish! Really, whatever we can do to hide our warthog likeness.

Now we may be some of the smartest young women in the country, but we really shouldn’t forget our place here. Perhaps you should revisit your admissions letter…

HARVARD COLLEGE OFFICE OF ADMISSIONS AND FINANCIAL AID
BYERLY HALL- 8 GARDEN STREET- CAMBRIDGE MASSACHUSETTS 02138

“Dear Ms. _________,

I am delighted to inform you that the Committee on Admissions and Financial Aid has voted to offer you a place in the Harvard Class of 2011 as campus scenery for our male students. Following an old Harvard tradition, a certificate of admission and a mini-skirt are enclosed. Please accept my personal congratulations for your outstanding achievements. We look forward to seeing (not hearing), you in the Fall.

And a final note on propriety: Yes, we do have the same demanding schedules, p-sets and practice hours as the men… but please! How are we ever supposed to snag a “Harvard Hottie” like “mrcockblaster” (posting comments on Harvard FML at midnight) if your hair is in a ponytail and you look sleep-deprived? We should really expect more from ourselves…

Artist’s best approximation of “mrcockblaster:”

Harvard girls are ugly. Word.