1. Get there on time, leave early.  The participants commence their lap at the stroke of midnight, so tonight is not the time to be fashionably late.  No reason to linger long before or after either; it just seems over-eager.

2. Bring coffee and blankets! Just because the Screamers are exposing themselves to the vice-grip of Cantabrigian winter doesn’t mean you have to, as well.

3. Don’t mention to that random kid in section that you saw him doing Primal Scream, unless you have sufficient reason to believe that the revelation that you have seen his/her goods would be well-received.

4. Go with friends. Standing awkwardly alone to watch naked people becomes a little too voyeuristic even for this display of exhibitionism. For this reason…

What lie will we concoct to tell tourists about this Harvard tradition?

5. Leave your camera home. C’mon, the mental image of 500 of your classmates in their birthday suits should be more than enough to carry with you.  (Also, rumor has it The Voice will be getting some [completely PG and anonymous] pics of the event later tonight!)

6. If you’re planning to witness Primal Scream before you graduate, go your freshman year.  It becomes [a lot more] socially unacceptable to flock to gawk at naked people once you move out of the Yard.

7. Finally, if braving the cold for Primal Scream seems too daunting, be sure to check out the first floor of Lamont at around 11. Typically, the Dudley Co-op has brought the naked party there on the night before finals to ensure that even those who refuse to leave their Harvard study caves get in on the action.

Happy Primal Scream! (And remember, it is at midnight this evening of December 12, in the Yard.)

Lawrence Talbot (DEL TORO), is forced to return to his family home following the disappearance of his brother where he is reunited with his estranged father (HOPKINS). Instead of merely discovering the whereabouts of his brother, Talbot becomes aware of a serious affliction that has been facing his old village–namely, that a blood-thirsty beast has been targeting the citizenry and turning the bitten into werewolves upon a full moon. A Scottish Yard inspector has even come to the village to investigate (WEAVING). In order to end the terror and save the woman Talbot has fallen for (BLUNT), he decides he must be the one to kill the beast–but he ends up being bitten himself–revealing a side of his mind and nature he did not believe to exist. Ultimately, this film is a strong action flick that is bolstered by an extremely strong and well reputed cast. It is not one to disappoint: great costumes, pulse-racing action and music, and well-written dialogue.

The premise of the story is one we are not unfamiliar with. Recent films like District 9 depicted similar metamorphoses from the human to the non-human. Some may find the storyline to be a tired one, but the ability of the film to be both a period piece and a thriller allows it to evade the science-fiction-esque quality given to many of 2009′s films that appealed to this notion of Otherness. There is something much more haunting about an irrepressible change in self–and that is what makes this film so appealing to all audiences since it is so bundled up in the collective human fear of irreparable change in body, self, and control.

Given the number of people who spend their full moon nights at Lamont, it is only appropriate that you should be the first to go see this movie–since it’s basically about you. You know you can’t deny it. We see you running around the yard with your fur and your claws. Stop eating so much ramen werewolves. Just stop it.

In honor of the film’s upcoming release, The Voice has joined up with Wolfman and is doing a giveaway of some sweet wolf items. So hot right now. Send your best werewolf pictures of your nights at Lamont to voice.lamonsterwolfman@gmail.com and maybe you can get a poster that looks like you will at 4 a.m. tonight working on your PSET. Make sure to caption your photograph or we won’t think you’re funny.

THE WOLFMAN opens nationwide February 12th

Yes, we can: Barack advocates for better library etiquette.

Loud roommates and claustrophobic Dunster walk-through coffins usually drive people to settle for a long night at Lamont instead. But certain peers, like those who play Miley Cyrus at full volume through their earbuds, can sometimes make us wish we hadn’t trekked all the way to the yard in the first place. Noice sympathizes with those who can’t even find sanctuary at the library. Beware of some of these types of people who may transform what should be a studious environment an experience from hell.

The Widener Walker. Some like to take a break from reading room by browsing the books, but beware of these leisurely strollers. It’s not unusual to see a random person hovering in between the expansive stacks. What’s weird is when they inadvertently end up playing hide and seek with you as you look for that elusive copy of a circa-1960s porn manual for your Lit & Sex paper. Peek-a-boo at its creepiest.
The Cabot Concentrator. Those isolated study rooms in Harvard’s dingiest library look like prison cells for a reason. Aesthetic appeal doesn’t even make the list–people come here to get some serious shit done. Those coffee stains crusted over on virtually every desk would shock us, if not for the fact that there’s probably a guy right now sprawled over his problem set, drooling. Noice advises bringing your own Clorox wipes to get rid of all the mystery bodily fluids.
The Lamont Lurker. Please extrapolate those assumptions you’ve held all along–that kid never ever EVER leaves. Ever. An anonymous source who works a late night shift at access services confirms the fact that these Lamonters will leave their stuff on the table at around 5 in the morning to head back to their house for a quick shower, and promptly plop back at their third floor desk to stick their noses back in the books at around 7am. This urban legend appears more than likely, given…

Today’s public service announcement continues after the jump.

The Desk Douche. Whoever told this hog that it’s okay to claim a spot by splaying his or her backpack and miscellaneous shit all over the best stack aisle on the first floor deserves to have his library privileges disabled. More likely than not, the selfish bastard is awkwardly chatting up his crush in the café (while everyone else has to listen. CRINGE). To those who encounter an empty yet monopolized desk, Noice gives permission to pull one of those sexy cinematic moves and sweep that shit under. Bitch, please.
The Café Canoodler. Don’t blame these people for coming to Lamont for some lovin’–packed with people of all years on weekday nights, the sham of a coffee shop gives plenty of boasting opportunities for that desperate grad student studying some kind of esoteric existentialism who just wants some fun distraction from his pointless dissertation. Under the pretense that they’re doing “work,” these mostly freshmen late-night prowlers creep around to check out the hot chick tutoring Life Sci, but usually just get fat from the double espresso shots they steal from the fridge instead. Understandably so, though, seeing as how Harvard plans to offer an alternative social space any time within the next fifty years. Any time now. Really. The library it is!
The Farnsworth Fuddy-Duddy. Be frightened–exhale once in the poetry room and expect to be shushed like a Catholic schoolgirl sassing the priest during mass. Oops, you dropped a Let’s Go guide on the floor accidentally? Prepare to die.

Langdell looks more appealing by the minute. That is, if you can handle a building full of law students.

Well. In that case.

Photo courtesy of If Charlie Parker Was A Gunslinger.

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.