"Even when she writes about gender, I think it's very political," Greenblatt says.
Such politics show their face in the several columns in which Alysse details the use of vibrators among Law School women whose distaste for their male counterparts has led them to seek battery powered satisfaction. One of the pieces was accompanied by a drawing of a vibrator.
Third-year student Daniel S. Drosman, however, says the commentary about male-female relationships is "not political," that it's "just her own bitterness enshrined in the paper." Drosman says such claims of political underpinnings are "a sham explanation for the vibrator, an after-the fact justification."
Wareing also says he doubts the political intentions behind what he describes as Moreno's "vulgarity."
"[Moreno] would say that all of life is political, the personal is political--something along those lines. But that's just an excuse to say what she wants," Wareing says.
This is not to say that Wareing objects to the column in principle. Rather, he insists that "some weeks, it's absolutely hilarious." What Wareing does take issue with is Moreno's once-hidden identity.
While Moreno insists that Alysse is a character, others say the pseudonym is nothing more than a protection device, allowing Moreno to express her radical views under a shelter of anonymity not granted to other Law Record writers who broach controversial topics.
"Part of expressing your opinion is being a grownup and putting your name on it," Wareing says. "It's duplicitous to say, 'I want all the benefits but don't want to suffer the effects of the fallout.'"
Third-year student and Record staffer Bob Daut draws an analogy between the MacIntyre column and "your made-for-TV movies based on drama," saying that both are "chroni-calization[s] of reality."
"If exaggerations are based on fact and mere hyperbole, it's not a character," Daut says.
Greenblatt, who used to date Moreno, can attest to the fact that there is at least some correspondence between the lives of Moreno and the fictional MacIntyre. He says he has identified several less-than-complimentary references to himself in the columns, but he claims it hasn't bothered him.
"She sees the funny side of things that happened in our relationship, both good and bad," Greenblatt says. "To the extent that I have seen things I have done become grist in her mill, I think it's funny."
Besides, he says, "any guy who's going to read Alysse MacIntyre and get offended is exactly the kind of person she's talking about."
Michael Twomey '85, also graduating this year from the Law School, says he enjoys the humor in Moreno's columns. "When you start objecting to parody, you deserve to be parodied," he says.
Professor David Wilkins '77, deemed by Moreno herself as "the fashion plate of the Law School," says those with serious criticisms of the column are missing the point.
"I always interpreted [the column] as a way to get away from the depressing, fierce political debates of the law school," Wilkins says. "I'd hate to see [it] be a part of that. What made it refreshing is that it tried to get away from the heavy-handed political squabbling that goes on among students and faculty and everyone else here."
As Moreno graduates today, she will be abandoning her post as a primary Law School fun-poker. The writer herself will work next year in the Los Angeles office of a New York-based law firm.
But "Alysse" fans need not mourn the loss of Moreno's brand of pointed wit. Several weeks ago, the writer got a call from "a national magazine," to which she may contribute a similarly-styled column.
But Moreno says she will not drop her other career plans even if the column gains widespread popularity, for her style and approach preclude her from become a columnist full-time.
"I write about what I hear people talk about," Moreno says. "My writing really depends on interacting with people--if I were just sitting home all day in front of the computer terminal and not talking to people, I would have nothing to say."