After 31 years in operation, Upstairs on the Square, Harvard’s most elevated restaurant, closed its doors for the last time. The restaurant was known for its zebra-patterned dining room and exotic fare, all of which will slowly turn to dust under the ceaseless rush of time. After the restaurant’s closing, The Krokodiloes, who regularly played Sunday brunch, were reminded of the inherent transience of all human endeavors. They wailed for hours on end, sending up a dirge that brought tears to the eyes of passersby. The restaurant, by all means still sprightly and youthful, died quietly in its sleep. Locals mourned the loss of such an effervescent establishment, the shining lodestar in the Harvard Square firmament. Our lives are a little darker, a little less colorful, without Upstairs on the Square.


Tommy Doyle’s sadly makes this list of tragic losses. The pub shut down after nine years of operation, raisingurgent questions of just where exactly frats would hold their annual fundraisers. The MAC quad? Petsi Pies? Under a giant circus tent? It’s just not the same. Rising rents in the Square and high maintenance costs prompted the decision to close one of the Square’smost beloved institutions. After the closing, disillusioned seniors and drunk lacrosse players were seen to wander aimlessly about the Square for days, dead-eyed and disoriented.Their tragic plight underscores how missed Tommy Doyle’s will be. The world of Irish-themed pubs feels hollow; the beer on tap turns to ash in our mouths. The sun is gone, the sky overcast. We mourn.


“O, shattered youth! Importunity of Fate! Who can say what crystal deeds lay before ye?” Organismic and Evolutionary Biology concentrators were heard to proclaim shortly after the decision to rename the concentration Integrative Biology was announced. At an age when most concentrations are just awakening to consciousness, the OEB concentration passed out of this mortal realm to seek its fortunes in that other kingdom, Death. It was only six years old. Concentrators recall that OEB was a super chill concentration, maybe a little confused about its identity,but who wasn’t back then?

With OEB’s passing we’ve lost a truly smart-sounding concentration name and a golden opportunity for orgasm jokes. Will the College be able to weather this shocking and untimely loss? Only time will tell. OEB is survived by a handful of alumni and every other concentration.


Students and casual passersby alike were tossed into turmoil earlier this academic year when the Holyoke Center—a beacon of sandwiches, information,and mediocre health care in the wasteland just south of the Yard—was renamed the the Richard A. & Susan F. Smith Campus Center. Sure, we never really paid attention to the HolyokeCenter, but it was always there for you when you needed it. Running low on birth control? Pharmacy’s got your back. Line at Felipe’s too long? Just swing Al’s or Oggi's. Not sure what to do for five minutes? Come on inside, you’re always welcome. We love you. No one is quite sure who the Smiths are or what personal vendetta they harbored against the Holyoke Center, but one thing is for certain; the Holyoke Center’s gone to that special place in the sky where all vaguely student-related buildings will one day go. Good night, sweet prince. If only we’d known how much we’d miss you.