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Budget Series Starts Today
The Daily Nebraskan begins in today's
paper the first story in a six-part series
by Julie Morris on the University's budget
proposal to the legislature for the 1967-69
biennium.
This budget, which requests a total
operating fund of $98.6 million, asks that
the University's state tax fund subsidy be
increased 91.48 per cent. This means that
the school will be seeking $67,018,893 in
state tax funds as compared with the $32,
018.377 received for 1967-67.
The University's budget requests have
a long and colorful history. Every two
years the budget creates one of the great
est issues in the legislature and certainly
the most important issue for the Univer
sity. This year because of the large in
crease in money requested and the warn
ings made by the University that the
school is in "a moment of truth and crisis"
the budget request is especially important.
It is important that every student un
derstand what the Universiy is asking for
in detail and exactly what this will mean
for the education in this s:!icol.
The Daily Nebra-kati encourages ev
ery student to educate himself now on the
budget so that in the near future, students
as a group may be able to help the Uni
versity in obtaining the funds it needs.
The series includes:
1. Today's general story about what the
University is asking for and briefly what
chances the present budget might have.
2. A complete history as far back as
1950 on the University's budget requests.
3. A study of the 1965-67 budget and
the legislature's reaction.
4. A detailed study of this year's re
quest and why the school is asking for
the amount of money it is.
5. An explanation of the procedure the
University will most likely follow in trying
to get the budget approved and the route
that the request will have to follow in the
legislature.
6. A story quoting members of the
legislature and other officials on this
year's budget request.
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West Coast No. 1
The first place you go of course is City
Lights. The triangular shaped bookstore
has three floors of paperback books.
I have a postcard from Allen Ginsberg
and for kicks see if it might get me lodg
ing for a couple of days. A fat, short bald
man named Marshall says, "Ya, that's Al
len's writing.'? He tells me to talk to Swig
downstairs.
First I look around upstairs maga
zines from all over the country, up in the
corner of the rack a little book Barb Rob
inson recommended to me: "Twink."
Let me quote the first dialogue poem:
"My windshield wipers have fallen in
love.
Really? It should be an ideal rom
ance. Do you think so?
Oh yes they'll go everywhere togeth
er. They won't be happy.
Why not?
They'll be too frustrated.
How?
In the rain, they rush together for a
fleeting kiss, but they never quite make
it.
That must be unbearable.
I don't think they'll be able to stand
it.
They are probably better off without
rain,
When they can just lie there and '
Stare at each other.
The downstairs! Swig is a sullen faced
Chinese with a beard (shades of Charlie
Chan). He doesn't think I can stay with
him (thank God). There are about three
tables in the middle of the floor where kids
sit and read.
Around the walls books are arranged
into 44 sections (eg. Negro History, Orien
talia, Literary Mags and Little Presses).
There are even some U of N Press books
around . . . one on Par Lagerkvist.
Outside again ... we are in the midst
of Chinatown! An old man lunatic is heck
ling passersby. No Barb, this is not the
place for you to work.
Telegraph Street is The street. Cody's
bookstore is here. You can buy giant post
ers of old movies (i.e. Draculaj or pack
ages of car decals saying: "Support your
local anarchist." Outside are numerous po
litical arguments going on between the
anarchists.
Across the street is Pepe's Pizza, hang
out for the Heads. "Head" is short for
"Acid Head" which refers to LSD users.
Telegraph Street has lots of shops, post
ers in windows advertize Hootenannies
and Wm. B. DuBois Club meetings. Out
side is free, easy with any kind of bizarre
clothes in from greasy motorcycles, jack
ets to Yak hair ponchos. Hair is long. Its
always chilly (960 degree average) and in
vigorating with the total impact of the
place liberating. Experimental university!
West Coast No. 2
Near City Lights is a little theatre
called The Committee. Eight actors im
provise scenes based on suggestions from
the audience.
Monday night is rented out to other
groups and City Lights poet Michael Mc
Clure is doing his play the "Beard."
What happens? Monday night the leading
man and lady are arrested for conspir
acy to commit an obscene act
Right in the middle of the action on
stage, author McClure leaps onto the
boards and shouts, "The noise of a ca
mera is being made by police . . ." he
exists. So do police with leading princi
ples. But Tuesday night is my first hand
experience so let me tell you about it.
Mona Byers, little Nebraska girl, and
I walk in. Everybody looks like Carl Dav
idson (except girls who don't have mus
taches). A lot of Mod clothes! Over a pi
ano is red and white bunting and a U.S.
eagle. The rest is in a loft affect.
Pretty soon a fat fellow comes out
announcing theatre of Improvisation (eg.
someone suggests for the first line of a
musical: "I love my mother-in-law" and
they take off spontaneously from there).
I know its real because they took some
of my suggestions too.
For the second show two ladies from
Holland and a student ambassador from
Columbia sit at our table (we are stuffed
in really fierce). One lady keeps telling
me they have the same thing all over the
world. The boy, who is underage, is try
ing to figure out how to get hold of a
martini. Meanwhile the last act is a sa
tire on Shakespeare. Groovey scene.
Aajt
1
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One ... it is difficult yet you are completely at ease.
Two ... you are concentrating on the present, now
the past, and a slight tingling sensation overcomes you,
barely perceptible, but pleasant.
Three . . . that same feeling, what was it so long
ago? I can almost remember it with you, but there is no
pattern to it. It would be a miracle to recall eactly
Four . . . deeper and deeper, further and further back.
The tingling sensation has grown such that your whole body
feels like a giant tuning fork, but
Five . . . never will yon remember, because there was
no rhythm, no pattern, no guidelines, no crutch to help
you.
Six . . . remember. It might have been the first night
you walked home alone from a friend's house, but no, that
was a different feeling again yellow, green, blue.
Seven . . . weH, it was at night anyway. "Good morn
ing, your assignment for Friday will be chapter eight." Good
luck babies! You do not remember then that you grew old
er because the hodge-podge of fragile experiences just piled
up on one another, sort of an accretion.
Eight . . . tort of. And now through plenty of experi
ence, or rather, practice we have done an about face and
rely on the mesmerizing effect of routine to pull us through,
ordering our lives so much that they could be written in
ROTC manual form if anybody felt like it.
Nine . . . "That's chapter eight in the red book. To help
you remember, open the book in the middle and then open
the last half in the middle again and there it is, chapter
eight.
Ten . . . when I snap my fingers. But then mature col
lege itudenU shouldn't engage in fantasy anyway the
tingling sensation is going away and every muscle is
now wonderfully tense and every nerve Is completely
taut because we're all anywhere from 21 to 18 years of
age or 17, or 14, or . . .
He's -rue onuv
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Notes From
The North Pole
. . . By S. Claus
Our Man Hoppe-
LBJ's Private Practice
Arthur Hoppe
"It's a terrible thing,"
said the Kindly Old Philo
sopher, shaking his kindly
old head. "To think the
President himself would be
caught practicing nepotism
in private with his own son-in-law."
He what?
"The newspaper," said
the Kindly Old Philosopher
sadly, "says right here
where that fine lad, Pat Nu
gent, got a job with that
Johnson tee-vee station
down in Texas.
"Oh, the Republicans are
going to make hay with this
one. Practicing nepotism in
private! It's got a sinister
ring to it, all right. If the
President wants to practice
nepotism, he ought to do it
in public, like any honest,
above - board politician
would.
"He could've just said,
'Son, I think of you as a
brother. So I'm making you
Attorney General.' Folks
would've understood that."
Wait a minute. What's so
wrong with the practice of
nepotism in private indus
try? "That shows you don't
know a thing about it," said
the Kindly Old Philosopher.
"Now in the old days, you
got a job without a lot of
nonsense. The President of
a firm would stare the ap
plicant square in the eye
and say, 'Young man, you
got looks, breeding, a good
name and a fine family.
How'd you like to be vice
president.' The boy says
humbly, 'Thanks, Dad.' And
it's all smooth sailing.
"But today, what does the
lad face? He faces Person
nel. I see by your rap sheet
that you're a grammar
school drop-out,' says Per
sonnel. " 'Give me a chance,'
pleads the boy. 'After all,
no job is too menial for the
son of the Chairman of the
Board.
" 'You're hired,' says Per
sonnel. 'Of course, to show
no favoritism, we'll start
you at the bottom so you
can learn the business from
the ground up.'
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I That's... !
1 What It Says I
By Arthur W. Landsman
The Collegiate Press Service
EDITOR'S NOTE: Lands
man is a former St. John's
student who now attends
New York University be
cause of the constrictions be
said he felt at St. John's.
At St. John's last year I
came to a frightening real
ization. I watched smiling
students entering and leav
ing their classes in their
usual business-like manner.
Watching their faces I
guessed the men were
dreaming of a future job at
the Metropolitan Life In
surance Company and the
women were dreaming of
marriage and spiritual
tranquility or perhaps, if in
a more intellectual mood,
they might have been puz
zling out a vital problem
like "Who wrote the Hall
Mary?"
After the crudest academ
ic injustice within memory,
they did nothing. After the
summary dismissal of
twenty-one of the faculty in
the middle of the fall se
mester, the rest of the year
at St. John's became an un
real season of Kafka-esque
horror.
In Mr. Bernstein's history
of education course, the
class learned about "the
Catholic Reformation and
the Protestant Revolt". The
students listened to stories
about Martin "Lucifer" and
they smiled some more.
They sat there looking
fresh and clean and dressed
according to the St. John's
dress regulations. The boys
proudly wore their ivy
league jackets, white shirts
and conservative ties. The
girls looked bright and
shiny, dressed "according
to the norms of Christian
modesty." They were con
fident that the adult world
Judged them as refined ladi
es, not as Communist-type
beatniks.
Yes, St. John's people
lived in a separate world.
They were just like children.
It was bizarre. They
looked like children. They
dressed like children. They
talked like children. They
even thought like children.
They simply listened to
their parents who told them
to forget such notions as
academic freedom, to be
dignified and to ignore the
inconvenience of losing pro
fessors in the middle of the
semester, having uncovered
classes (without professors)
and getting a final grade
based on a two-week evalua
tion made by new teachers.
It may not be kind to
give dedicated scholars dis
missal notices on the first
day of Christmas recess. It
may not be just to convict
a man without a fair hear
ing and to refuse letting
him know the nature of his
"crime." It may even be
stupid.
But the St. John's admin
istrators have won their
point. They have the right
to maintain the same qual
ity of education to which
St. John's students are now
accustomed. They asked for
"final authority." And in
deed they do have the final
authority to have St. John's
remain what it has become,
a diploma mill for unprin
cipled children. .
"So he starts as an of
fice boy, eager to learn the
way modern businesses are
run. 'Hey, there, get me a
ham on rye,' shouts his boss.
'And make it snappy. If you
don't mind, please, sir.'
"And all his fellow work
ers smile at him politely.
And shun him like the
plague. But he works hard,
does his best and, sure
enough, he gets a raise.
" 'I am happy to inform
you we are doubling your
salary in view of the ex
cellent record you have com
piled thus far,' says the
boss. 'And I hope you do
even better on your second
day with the firm.'
"So he fights his way up
through the ranks to the
very top. In about s i x
weeks. But by that time hi
nerves are shattered, h i s
confidence is gone and he
thinks the company's being
run by a bunch of nuts.
"No, sir, private nepotism
is a terrible thing for any
lad to undergo these days.
And I say they should've
made that poor Nugent lad
Attorney General instead."
I said he was being un
fair. Mr. Nugent could easi
ly get a-job without any
help.
"You're right there,"
agreed the Kindly Old Phi
losopher. "I'd hire him my
self. He's a fine, decent,
bright-looking young man.
What's more, he's already
proved himself by meeting
up with one of life's b i g
challenges. And be did
mighty well."
Oh? What challenge was
that?
The Kindly Old Philosoph
er's eyes took on a kindly
old twinkle. "Getting mar
ried," he said.
Daily Nebraskan
Second-ciaa poataa ptkd tit Llacola.
Neb.
TELEPHONE: 4T7-S711. Ex
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EDITORIAL STAFF
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I wear glasses.
But though you may be
appalled at this confession
and regard me as the out
cast I suppose I am, heark
en to my tale of woe:....
The other day, In answer
to my friends' exhorta
tions to "come out and
save the day", I went over
to the field of honor to play
intramural football. Now,
my stature is somewhat un
impressive when I stand
next to musclebound op
ponents, but I've always
felt that I could run, throw
and catch passes some
where near the norm for
intramural jocks.
Alas, even my mediocre
talents were barred from
competition.
The referee, a black
browed villain waving his
little blackjack penalty
flag, pounced upon me as
I strove to assist my com
rades, efforts.
"Hey, you," he ordered
in brutal tones, "get off the
field. You can't play, you're
wearing glasses."
I stood with my mouth
open. (I've worn glasses
for some time now, and
this was the first time I'd
felt abnormal.)
He mistook my paralysis
for revolt. "If you don't
take them off, you can't
play," he said sternly.
Now, I've played football
for quite a few years, but
never have I played with
out glasses. In fact, with
out them I'd have trouble
seeing an airplane bearing
down on me, much less a
football that I'm supposed
to catch.
But
you don't argue
things with referees. My
high school training in
sportsmanship commanded
my better instincts, and af
ter only a brief attempt to
barter with him I turned
and walked off the field
with bowed shoulders.
I was utterly shaken.
Here I was, only an h o u r
before completely normal,
and now an outcast.
And, I must admit, a bit
confused. I'd played foot
ball for three years in high
school wearing glasses, and
realized all along that I
took a risk. But, since it was
my risk, nobody jumped up
to tell me the error of my
ways.
Now my new mother, the
University, has taken it
upon herself to tell me just
what I can and can't do.
And the thought of someone
telling me that I can't
break my glasses by play,
ing football is enough to
make me go out and smash
my spectacles between two
rocks.
And in a tiny corner of
my mind I stand outraged
that I'm separated from the
clean life because I wear
glasses.
It inspires frightening lit
tle daydreams of f u t u r e
legislation by the intramur
al department. For in
stance, the day that they
ban black tennis shoes,
football players above and
below certain weights, and
everyone wearing, say, a
size seven hat.
From now on, in limit
myself to games of catch
with close friends. And in
secluded places, so they
won't be embarrassed by
being seen with a near
sighted leper.
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aBa
pinion i
Speaker Situation Serious
Dear Editor:
The speaker situation has long been a serious problem
fnr JaV andi consulate the Daily Nebraskan
ri"aUy bringing m' Problem o th attention of the
This school cannot really be called an educational in.
sitution until we start getting some decent speakers repre
senting many viewpoints and ideas on campus.
n,Ji,ri!leTre lW0liW Uke t0 Pint out that I nk the
rumor you have heard about any speaker being able to
PetkJnlLis,fampU8 U false- 11 18 a n fact if you've
worked with Union or close to administration that students
cannot bring any speaker they want to this campus.
r,..IlHift,,iVy0U,iut U m almost seems
possible that the only speakers that can be brought to this
campus are government officials or actors. The only rea
son Ginsberg was able to talk was because the adminis
tration knows so little about contemporary and present day
issues and personalities that they didn't know who he was.
Mr. Kreuscher keep up the good work and maybe some
time we 11 have a real educational Institution.
Jut A Student
Congratulated On "Outlook"
Dear Editor:
.. r iM atf are to be congratulated on the
addition of the News Outlook page to Friday'i paper.
Students here on campus tend to isolate tbemselvei
from events which take place outside the campus com
munity and need to be informed.
You are doing a real service to the students by bring
ng news of the world to the University and thus lending
to the broad education of all students who want to learn
and be informed.
Cathie Shattuck
Quality Questioned
Dear Editor:
I personally feel the Dally Nebraskan has never been
as worthless as it is this semester. Who in the world really
cares about speakers, a bill of rlghta or what Faculty Sen
aU or Student Senate do?
Jesj
"1
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