Poqe 2
The Doily Nebroskon
Wednesday, April 30, 1958
Editorial Comment
A Little Sense To Replace Little Richard
Editorializing has long been a major
activity of American newspapers not so,
however, for American radios which only
recently won the right to present edi
torial views. Now, the chairman of the
Federal Communications Commission,
John C. Doerfer, says the radio stations
should take steps to make wider use of
their right.
He says, "Having fought and won the
battle for the right .to editorialize, the
broadcasters have failed to follow up
this conquest." Talking to a National
Assn. of Broadcasters convention he said
that the broadcasters are fearful of dis
pleasing the sponsors, the listening pub
lic or public officials.
It would seem that Doerft. o urgings
are in the best interests of both the pub
lic and radio stations. Definite stands on
public policy, both civic, state and na
tional could help to restore the radio
to prominence on the American scene, a
prominence that has dwindled much
since the dusting off of old Hopalong Cas
siday movies and the consequent sub
stitution of rock-and-roll for good radio
programming.
The public could benefit by being re
minded that there are numerous import
ant events occurring throughout their
community and nation that warrant a
definite opinion on their part. Being sub
jected to editorial opinion via radio
early in the morning much as KFAB
Is now doing has an effective manner
of sneaking up on the listener and mak
ing him listen to opinions that might be
other than his own, or opinions that he
might miss in a newspaper.
The radio station naturally owes it to
the listener to be fair and discreet in its
judgments. One of the big checks on
possible flagrant violation of the radio
station's editorial rights is the require
ment that radio licenses be renewed by
the FCC every 3 years. The broadcasting
industry also owes it to its listeners to
ignore the pressure of advertisers, public
officials and unconcerned or narrow
minded citizens. Little advancement can
be made in any field of endeavor unless
persons in vital positions such as com
munications, government and the arts
are willing to uphold sometimes unpopu
lar but beneficial proposals in the face
of heated public attack.
In a way the chairman of the FCC
almost stepped on a soapbox of his own
when he told of the duties that the
broadcaster has in editorializing in con
trast to those of the press editor. He
said: "It is true that a broadcaster must
exercise more care than a press editor.
After all, the newspaper publisher need
not seek the renewal of a license every
3 years. He may be hasty, careless, vin
dictive or callous to accepted standards
of fairness. Not so a broadcaster. He
must use reasonable care to be fair and
has an affirmative obligation to ensure
the presentation of conflicting views."
It is very possible that there are cases
where newspapers step off the deep end
with their editorial policy. The cases,
however, are few and far, far between.
If radio editorial writers can keep pace
with newspapers they will make a defi
nite contribution to the American scene.
One added aspect for consideration
about radio editorializing is the chance
it will allow for greater public airing of
different political views when the news
paper is owned by one group and the
radio by another. Perhaps all we are
saying is what Voltaire uttered a goodly
number of years ago, "We may not agree
with what you have to say, but we will
defend to the death your right to say it."
So, to Nebraska radio stations the urging
would go out for them to take heed of
the words of the top man of the FCC
. . . and give forth with some profound
editorializing. It might help erase much
of the present apathy about public
affairs.
From the Editor
private opinion
dick shugrue
-. V3
Shugrue
First there were questions as to what
Spring Day should be on the campus.
Should it expand into a great public rela
tions bid for the University? Should it
become a noble attempt at a spring
bacchanal for tired students? Should it
combine culture with pig chasing?
These questions stood aside Tuesday as
the Spring Day folks ran
into trouble with John
Law. "No raffle," indi
cated the bearers of jus
tice. "No comment," they
said when the Daily Ne
b r a s k a n approached
them the first few times.
Assistant County Attor
ney Dale Fahrnbruch at
first thought we were
asking him to serve as
attorney general and interpret the law.
Apparently, he (or his boss or his help
ers) didn't think this when the Lincoln
Journal approached him.
After a number of calls the truth outed.
'No raffles, the state law says."
So the wheels went back Into motion
and wangled a way to give the car which
was supposed to have been raffled off
to some talented group. This, apparently,
Is legaL
There was a great hubub in the Union
when the news first reached the ears of
the powers that be. Comments ranging
from "I don't want to go to jail," to
"What'U we do? what'll we do?" bounced
from wall to wall before the matter was
cleared up.
Maybe some lucky house will get
that jalopy sitting lopsldedly in front of
the Union come Spring Day. Will a pig
chasing group win the auto? Or will a
rope tying bunch get the heap? These
questions were on the lips of everyone
as they went back to their benches in
the crib and fed money by conveyor belt
to the juke box and "Big Man." These
are the pressing issues of higher educa
tion. Did you see that picture of beer bottles
splattered all over some helpless county
road in the Morning Star Tuesday? The
question which now arises is "Were Uni
versity students responsible for that
business?"
Very likely, I would guess. After all,
they wouldn't dare bring the brew back
on the campus despite the fact that Ger
man journalists said, in the tones of
Mother Hubbard, "Yes, Virginia, there
is beer."
This activity, and activity like it illus
trated so clearly when students make
garbage disposals of the public roads
points up a very serious problem we
have around us. I was talking with a
man who lives on the south edge of town
who said, "Those kids from the Uni
versity are always leaving their beer
cans on our front lawn." I don't know
where he gets his evidence. Maybe he
just wanted to blame someone. Maybe he
spotted gay blue-sweatered girls throw
ing the bottles and cans haplessly at his
lawn. Mayba he saw stickers on the front
of the cars.
And maybe the University Is the scape
goat of those who can't pin the rap on
anyone else.
The very serious problem 1 started to
talk about is the situation which arises
when boys will be boys. And like to take
a drink. But they had better finish the
bottle. It's unfortunate that the Univer
sity has its hands tied by the state law.
And it's unfortunate that the state legis
lators don't look more realistically at the
desire of young people to take a drink
now and then. It might be advantageous
to have some brave state senator intro
duce a bill into the Unicameral asking
the legal limit to be lowered and request
ing that an examination of the laws for
bidding alcohol on state property be
made pronto.
News Item: Highlight of the Lincoln
phase of the foreign journalists' trip was
the Miss Nebraska contest Saturday eve
ning. As you all know, the journalists
were introduced amid shouts from their
own section of "Here, here," and what
have you.
They were very impressed with Ne
braska's lovelies, I take it. And they
were quick to live up to their reputa
tions with women that is, some of them
supported popular conceptions of their
countrymen.
Said one young French journalist to
staffer Diana Maxwell when asked what
was on their agenda Sunday eve, "Noth
ing, let's go out to dinner together."
Well, fifty million Frenchmen can't
be wrong.
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Published at: Room 20, Student Union editorial mrw
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- Editorial Editor Emm Hln
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aa atnornt Affair aa ma prw.ioo of atudml opinion. HnB probata, and hari Mmlfh
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"As I Was Saying, We're Not Going To Lose
Our Shirt"
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A Few Words Of A Kind
by e. e. hines
e.e.
Normally this space would
be devoted to the weekly re-lifi-'US
column. "Humans will
tr," however, and somehow
the column didn't find its way
into the Ne - -w
braskan of- '
fice. Jn
jbui loaay, i ,s
if I might, I f
thought
it would be
be proper to
present a few
sea ttered
comments on
my d i s
c o n nected
views of man's relationship
to the world via religion. Of
course, much homespun phi
losophy is promised.
My comments have to do
with objections to formal re
ligion. (And what half-witted
youth doesn't go through this
stage of doubt and rejection
of the established church?)
While in high school I hap
pened to flip the radio dial
to a Texas radio station
where an evangelist, or what
have you, was ranting and
raving about the pitiful state
of man how he was filled
with the devil and destined
for hell unless he followed
some long list of righteous ac
tions and attended church on
Sunday, prayed often each
day and reminded himself of
his imperfect state.
My parents said to turn it
off. I only turned it down and
listened more closely, realiz
ing for the first time that this
was the epitome of most for
mal churches: "unless you
belong to my group and wor
ship in my way you are
damned." To this doctrine I
could only say then and now
bunk !
In the first place, I have
long felt that no God of Ixve
would create imperfect crea
tures to test their worthiness,
or to remind Him of his great
ness (playing puppet to
please the Master). So man,
to me, is an admirable char
acter when he ignores all of
the hash and trash dished out
in dogma and instead con
centrates on development of
his personality and the per
sonalities and welfare of
those around him. Until a
few weeks ago I hadn't
studied this theory in ethics,
but it was my belief. Now,
I can only add that it's known
as self-realization ethics. I al
so understand that it's some
what imperfect, but strange
ly enough we haven't studied
one yet that's consistent so
I hold smugly on to this be
lief. In the second place, the
Christ I find in the Bible said
something about the Sabbath
being iride for man and not
man for the Sabbath. He was
saying that laws do not rise
above the needs of man, that
adherence to formal doctrines
isn't as important as the spir
it of love. Somewhere else,
as I recall from my no w
cloudy church attendance
days, he mentioned that the
greatest law was that of love,
that all the commandments
and laws hinged on that sin
gle factor.
Love, then, is the criterion
for consideration in one's re
lationships with others. It's a
necessary element that can't
be replaced with the mutter
ing of prayers or the weekly
trip to church. This is not
to say that man can be an
island within himself, but
rather to say that he must
seek sublimation through the
building up of himself and
other men, and not through
the building up of nice brick
buildings and perfect attend
ance records.
Photoplay
By John Wet
The I-ong, Hot Summer, ap
pearing soon at the Stuart,
presents another incisive look
into an American town by the
producer of Peyton Place,
Jerry Wald. Based on Nobel
and Pulitzer Prize Winner,
William Faulkner's trilogy,
"The Hamlet," the picture
presents a sometimes dramat
ic, sometimes humorous ac
count of life and love in a
small Mississippi town
owned, almost entirely by 60-year-old
Will Varner (Or
son Welles).
It isn't always a pleasant
story. Varner despises his
son, Jody ( Anthony Francio
sa), whom he considers to be
a coward; becomes tyranni
cal with his unmarried daugh
ter (Academy Award w i n
ner, Joanne Woodward), as
she has not given him an
heir; and shows favoritism
over his own son to the
earthy stranger in town, Ben
Quick (played excitingly by
Paul Newman). Jody sets fire
to the barn, Varner is nearly
killed and Quick Is attacked
by a lynchmob before every
thing works out in a melo
dramatic, and yet plausible
ending.
Welles obviously had the
best time making the picture.
At 42 and 275 lbs., bedecked
in a two hour grease paint
eye bags-gray hair and shag
gy eyebrows makeup job, he
seems very much at home
as a tyrant with a drive like
a power saw and an insatiable
lust for life. His best and the
picture's funniest scenes are
with his mistress, Minnie
(Angela Lansbury).
The Long, Hot Summer Is
an excellent example of in
spired filmmaking. Story,
cast, direction and pho
tography (in color and Cine
mascope) are at least
capable and often noteworthy.
MY DAD HAS
A BefTEK JOB
aan A alt A i aft t A ft
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(MY dad mas a SOnJ
Wayward Wanderings
By Ron Mohl
Surprised is hardly the
term to describe my feelings
last week when I pulled a
letter out of my mailbox
from an organization called
tne inter-
collegiate So
ciety of Indi-
.. S A .. - 1
v i u u a i- t ,4
ists, Incor- jv
p o r a i e a
Mohl
(where could
you find a
more ego
elevating let
t e r head?).
At first I
r h n n 0 h f
it was just a gag, but it was
postmarked Philadelphia.
When I opened the en
velope, I found a little pub
lication, in newsletter format,
called The Individualist. I
read through it and found it
to be of an ulta-conservative
nature, containing short es
says and articles written by
college students. One article
attacked the "liberal profes
sors" found in colleges to
day; another entitled "Why
Johnny Shouldn't Read" at
tacks the leftist nature of
many political science texts
used in colleges today.
The Individualist thought
fully recommends a list of
books which ". . . the con
servative student will find
useful." This booklist includes
such objective-sounding books
as: The Road to Serfdom, by
F. A. Hayek, The Yalta Be
trayal, by Felix Wittmer,
The Lattlmore Story, by John
T. Flynn, and Inside the
State Department, by Bryton
Barron.
I began to wonder how this
little paper had been able to
add my name to their mailing
list. When I looked at the
editorial and publishing staff
I knew the staff of The In
dividualist and the staff of
Frank Hanighen's Human
Events are one and the same.
The Individualist is merely a
Jr. Human Events (though a
little more pronounced in its
conservatism). I can't say
that I subscribe to all the
viewpoints in this month's is
sue, but it's refreshing to see
a publication reaching beyond
the deep rut of conformity.
Last week's mail also
brought me a fan letter (ot
sorts) from my little brother.
Inside the envelope was a pic
ture of a grinning chimpan
zee, sitting at a typewriter.
Across the bottom of the pic
turein that classic little
brother handwriting was
scrawled, "Ron Mohl writing
a column for the Nebraskan.
a
One of the finest products
of student endeavor I have
seen is the first issue of
Scrip. I imagine Just about
everyone has seen a copy by
now, but I want to take this
opportunity to say that the
quality of this student publi
cation surpassed all my ex
pectations. Most of the stories
were exceptional, and Steve
Schultz's sonnets were su
superb. The last story in the book,
however, ended it on a rather
sour note for me. I'm not
sure what Miss Wilson was
trying to do in "The Hero".
This particular school of short
story writing I'm tempted to
call it neo-obscenism might
get by under the intellectual
cloak of the Prarle Schooner,
but I don't think it belongs
in a student literary magazine.
ZL IrCiEIMWI
milkman
(B i4 ttttor of "Rally Roityui tin flag, Boft "and,
"Banfoot Bey w Cheek.")
SWEENEY IN THE TREES
Spring la here the season of tree-sitting contests. This I ap
plaud. Tree-eitting is healthful and jolly and as American aa
apple pie. Also it keeps you off the streets.
Tree-sitting is not, however, without Its hazards. Take, for
example, the dread and chilling case of Manuel Sigafoos and
Ed Sweeney, both sophomores at the Nashville College of Folk
Music and Woodworking, and both madly in love with a beau
tiful alto named Ursula Thing, who won their hearts singing
that fine old folk song, Strangled My True Love with Her Own
Yellow Braidt, and I'll Never Eat Her Sorghum Any More.
Both Manuel and Ed pressed Ursula to go steady, but she
could not choose between them, and finally it was decided that
the boys would have a tree-sitting contest, and Ursula would
belong to the victor. So Manuel and Ed clambered up adjoin
ing aspens, taking with them the following necessaries: food,
clothing, bedding, reading matter, and most essential of all
plenty of Marlboro Cigarettes.
We who live on the ground know how much you get to like
with a Marlboro. Think how much more important they must
be to the lonely tree-dweller how much more welcome their
fine, mild tobacno; how much more gratifying their free-drawing
filters; how much more comforting their sturdy, crashproof
flip-top box. Climb a tree and see for yourselves.
KE STTma CONTEST
Well supplied with Marlboros, our heroes began their tree
sitting contest Manuel with good heart, Ed with evil cunning.
The shocking fsct is that crafty Ed, all unbeknownst to Manuel,
was one of three identical triplets. Each night while Manuel
doted on his bough, one of Ed's brothers Fred or Jed would
snpak up the tree and replace hira. "How can I lose?" said Ed
with a fiendish giggle to his brother Fred or Jed.
But Ed had a big surprise coming. For Manuel, though
he did not know it himself, was a druid I He had been abandoned
as an infant at the hut of a poor and humble woodcutter named
Cornelius Whitney Higafoos HI, who had raised the child aa
his own. 8o when Manuel got into the tree, he found much to
his mirprise that he had never in all his life felt so at home
and happy. He had absolutely no intention of ever leaving.
After seven or eight years Ed and his brothers wearied of the
contest and conceded. Ursula Thing came to Manual's tree
and cried, "I am yours t Come down and pin me."
But Manuel declined. Instead he asked Ursula to Join him
in the tree. This she could not do, being subject to moperv
(a morbid allergy to woodpeckers), so she ended up with Ed
after all.
Only she made a mistake a very natural mistake. It wu
Jed, not Ed, with whom she ended up.
Ed, heartbroken at being tricked by his own brother, took
up metallurgy to forget.
Crime does not pay.
e tW Mil SlMila
Th( column it brought to you by the mnkern of Marlboro
Cigarette who uigtjent that if you or ever up a tree irhen
trying to Hntl a gift, give Marlboro: iou can't mini