On Friday, Feb. 9, Jill Daven-port, a junior from Middletown, CT, entered the first floor of the library from the Cyber Caf??. Davenport was carrying the famous Caesar Salad (ro-maine lettuce, three croutons, ten parmesan cheese shavings and one teaspoon of dressing in a small accompanying packet), which cost her parents $11.50 on CATscratch. “So, then I sat back down to pretend to study my psych text-book, ‘Motivational Psychology,'” Davenport explained. At this point, according to Max Froth, a self proclaimed “library-hawk,” Davenport began to vigorously shake the plastic container that housed her salad. “I have never done one ounce of homework in the library,” Froth said. “I know what I saw.” According to Froth’s testimony, Davenport’s salad tossing was as loud as “machine-gun fire rat-tling across the Somme.” At this exact moment, Tommy Shaw was doing perididdles with two pencils on a nearby carrel, Susie Kensington’s cell phone went off (“Turkish Dance”), Mitch Gregory was typing gib-berish on his laptop at a rate of 125 characters per minute and Lily Bernhardt III was smacking her lips to evenly distribute her recently-applied lip gloss. These sounds and rhythms, combined with the din of bubble gum-chewing and mindless nat-tering, somehow rose up in uni-son to create a luscious sound-scape in C major with a 6/8 time signature. “Somehow the textures wove together for a split second,” Sar-ah Yeltsin, a stoned music major, recalled. “It was like the space was, like, possessed by the aura of John Cage.”