The Daily Nebraskan
FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 10, 1967
Page 2
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The Lighted Tradition
'. Really--it's only a small thing but
the Daily Nebraskan does feel that it
should rank at least a cartoon (in Thurs
day's paper), and a feature story and
editorial in today's paper.
Again it's only a small ting, but
certainly sometimes it's the small things
that affect the students the most.
,;JSurely this "small thing" is also the
first thing that returning alums will no
tice, that many student couples will be
affected by and that will cause comment
from almost every student.
True the Daily Nebraskan has long
been in support of improving campus
lighting but really we're not responsible.
The Nebraskan might accept respon
sibility for almost anything but this is
one thing that we can never be blamed
of . . .
The Daily Nebraskan will certainly
give credit where it is due and applaud
the University for finally lighting the
campus better and for answering Student
Senate's past cries and those occassion
al of the Daily Nebraskan.
But yet we wonder as no doubt many
students do if the University didn't go
a little too far this time in pushing their
zeal for campus lighting to an extreme.
Certainly the University understands
that even today in the age of rapid
change and questioning on university
campuses students still need traditions.
No doubt everyone knows that there
is certainly little tradition or classical
romanticism connected with this school
except in the past possibly the columns.
Yes, on this campus of little grass,
few trees and many parking lots the
students had only one place of roman
tic, beautiful tradition.
Now it resembles a baseball diamond.
JAN ITKIN'S ...
Who Would Have Thunk It?
In the past few weeks
readers of Daily Nebraskan
columns have seen several
introductions to new col
umns and to an extent this
could be considered an in
troduction to an old one
and one that, at least this
week, is concerned with a
very old subject.
Last semester and prob
ably for the remainder of
this semester "Who Would
Have Thunk It" has been
concerned about very real
vibrant campus issues
ranging from AWS sign-out
sheets (now thankfully part
of the past) to the Student
Bill of Rights to ASUN lead
ership. During this period
another issue has remained
under the conscious level of
everyday activities as it
has and probably will for
many years the oft-times
confusing position of a
woman in today's (or yes
terday's or tomorrow's) so
ciety. Granted books and books
and books have been writ
ten on the subject, but an
ambivalent existence is still
the lot of today's woman.
She is expected to get an
education to develop a mind
that she is discouraged
from using; she is expected
to develop a sense of inde
pendence in the midst of a
patriarchal society that she
is not really expected to use
and she is definitely not al
lowed to choose her man
ner of contributing to the
world in which she lives.
The reasoning behind
many of the restrictions
placed in her path are ex
plained to her as "tradi
tions." In answer, one can
only say that traditionally
women were regarded as
pieces of chattel and sup
posedly that is not the case
today.
Perhaps this lack of re
gard would be explained by
some as being a desire to
"protect" the woman from
the more undesirable as
pects in life and a wish to
"guard her frailty."
Well, what about a wom
an who is not afraid of un
pleasantness and, surpris
ing to some, an average
sized woman is not as frail
as some would have her be
lieve she is.
From the time she is a
child and hears "girls don't
play football" or "but ruf
fles look nice and pretty"
to the time she reaches the
University and learns she is
not mature enough to know
what time to come in by
herself or that girls are not
qualified to hold positions
of significant leadership, to
yes even the time she
graduates and finds out her
chosen profession discrimi
nates against hiring women
she is relegated to the
role of chattel.
Granted, she has the vote
and may be told that by in
fluencing a man who "pro
tects" her she has vast, in
estimatable powers.
The question, however, is
when or more pathetic
ally, whether society will
learn to exploit the most
valuable resource it has
the minds and abilities of
the women who are among
those comprising it.
Yes, dear readers, socie
ty is failing itself in its
women
Who would have thunk it?
II I
WVL oT TT ALL
6u?toSLb to be. EAbU6$
All-U Parent Award
I think there should be a medal
awarded to parents of University of Cal
ifornia students: "Honorable Service in
battle," or "Courage Under Attack."
These long-suffering individuals ought to
receive stme sort of recognition. Per
haps at graduation, after the usual cere
mony, the Chancellor could have all of
the "graduated" parents stand and hail
them with: "And by the authority vested
in me by the Regents, I hereby confer
unor. you the B.S. Degree." And we all
know what "BS" stands for.
Pity the poor parents of a Cal stu
dent at any social gathering. At first he
proudly admits that his son or daughter
attends the Big U . . . but look out!
"Berkeley!", snorts a listener. (To
all outsiders, UC is always referred to as
BERKELEY!) "You let your kid go to
school up there with those COM
MUNISTS!" "They aren't communists," says No
ble Parent, inwardly thinking how much
easier it all would have been had Junior
gone to USC. "Cal is a fine academic in
stitution . . ."
"Don't tell me, I know," interrupts
the listener, whose last visit to the Bay
Area (in 1947) consisted of a tour of
downtown El Cerrito. "I've seen what
goes on. Nobody ever studies! All they
do is picket!" (leering). "Your kid grown
a beard yet?"
"No, she hasn't," explains Papa wear
ily. "Actually she's In a sorority"
"A sorority! Don't give me that!
Probably a Communist front."
"Listen, I-"
"No, YOU listen! Anybody that sends
a kid of theirs to that Little Red School
house get it Little RED Schoolhouse,
har har! is nuts! That place should be
bombed! What they need is a get tough
policy. Kick 'em ALL out!"
And Papa exits, temporarily over
whelmed but not defeated, to get another
double martini and map a new battle
strategy.
Mother is not safe from The Enemy
either she finds herself surrounded even
in such an innocent place as the Beauty
Parlor.
LADY IN THE NEXT CHAIR: Hear
the latest about Berkeley We call it
BERSERKLY nowl
BEAUTY OPERATOR: Ha, ha! Why
can't they be real college kids, like
UCLA
LADY: (magnanimously) Well, kids
will be kids but honestly, with the tax
payer's money the least they could do is
go to class.
MOM: (flushed) Excuse me . . .
LADY: I mean, have you ever SEEN
such a bunch of weirdos? Max Rafferty
(controversial Regent of the University)
and he ought to know says all they
do up there is have LSD parties!
MOM: (worried frown) ... I don't
believe that.
BEAUTY OPERATOR: Well, I read
it in the paper. If you can't believe what
you read in the paper, I mean, what can
you believe?
MOM: The papers aren't always very
objective.
LADY: Well my son, who goes to San
Jose State and is going to be a Corpor
ation Management Trainee and Personnel
Guidance Counselor says that ALL the
creeps from San Jose transfer to Berk
eley. MOM: (indignant): My daughter goes
to Cal and she is not a creep and neither
are her friends!
LADY: (shocked silence, laced with
pitty) . . . Lou d better get her out of
there quick! My friend Bertha said her
husband's sister-in-law's cousin Ethel
sent their daughter to Berkeley and in six
months she was SMOKING and had a
boyfriend who was a Communist.
MOM (disturbed): ... I'm late for
an appointment. Never mind the hairdo.
Of course, parents of Cal students are
modern day Jeckylls and Hydes. They
may defend you to the death, but for you
their tune changes slightly, as the follow
ing incident will show.
CAL STUDENT: Hi, folks! I'm home
for vacation!
MOM: My God, your hair is so long!
And who ever heard of wearing sandals
in December!
C.S.rOh, Mom...
DAD: What's going on up there with
those few non-student agitator beatniks?
C.S.: Whattaya mean, 'few'! Really,
there are some legitimate issues, REAL
LY legitimate Issues Involved here. One
cannot . . .
DAD: Issues, Smishues! What do you
think you're there for, free? Were YOU
involved in those distrubances?
C.S.: (really C.S.) Of course not! Me?
MOM: That's good. I don't want you
to get HURT! Honestly, what a bunch of
goings on . . . lunatics! I just hope you
never get mixed up with (sound of
phone?) Hello Oh, hi, Grace. Yes, she
just got home. What? (bristling) What do
yon mean, 'radicals'! LUNATICS! Grace,
how many times do I have io tell you
that what you read in the papers Isn't
necessarily . . .
. . . Like I say. A medal please. Or
at the very least, a crash helmet . . .
By Leslie Lafayette
The Collegiate Press Service
Our Man Hoppe-
Our Horrible Friends
Arthur Hoppe
Once upon a time there
was a scrubby little coun
try called Phynkia. It was
ruled by the hereditary
Ratt. He observed a policy
of strict neutrality. But
even so, it was such a
scrubby country that not
even the Red Chinese would
smuggle him anything
worth pawning.
Then one day the Ratt
was overthrown by General
Torquemada Man-chu, who
was the most evil man who
ever lived.
The American Ambassa
dor, suppressing a yawn,
dropped by to check out the
General's stand on the is
sues of the day.
"I believe," said the Gen
eral, "in Horriblism. We
Horriblites have a mystic
faith in torture, oppression,
stealing from shoeshine
boys, rape, butchery, mis
cellaneous vileness and
ladies
cried
"You
kicking little old
planting marigolds."
"Good heavens!"
our Ambassador.
must be stopped."
"We also," said the Gen
eral with a villainous smile,
"are vigorous anti-Communists."
"Oh," said the Ambassa
dor. And he cabled the
State Department for in
structions. - "What's he bothering us
for?" said the Secretary of
State testily. "If that Gen
eral is anti-Communist, he's
automatically a member of
the Free World. Send him
a membership card, the
usual two zillion dollars and
a flock of tanks so he can
defend himself against
Communist aggression."
"Thank you," said the
General on receiving the
aid. "Today Phynkia, to
morrow East Phynkia!"
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And in a week he had
conquered 32 neutralist
neighbors, looting, pillag
ing, kicking little old ladies
and otherwise behaving
with predictable Horrible
ness. "At last our foreign poli
cy is paying off," the Sec
retary of State proudly told
the President. "We have
created a strong anti-Communist
bloc around Phyn
kia. This is a victory for
freedom and democracy
everywhere."
Encouraged and enriched
the Horriblites went on to
conquer, by foul means and
worse, every neutralist na
tion anywhere.
"A triumph for the Free
World!" cried our Secre
tary of State, rubbing his
hands.
And then they gobbled up
all our Allies. "No longer
will we have to deal with a
squeamish England nor a
fractious France," said the
Secretary. "The Free
World is united. Commu
nism csn never win now."
And he was right. For in
one final struggle the united
Horriblites, with our aid,
wiped out Communism for
ever. "Total victory!" crowed
the President, rubbing his
hands. "What do we do
now?"
"Do?" said the Secretary
of State, looking blank.
"Well, I don't really know.
I suppose we should get to
gether with our er
Allies and talk about the
future of the world."
It was Horrible.
MORAL: It's a good thing
our State Department is
anti-Communist Or else we
wouldn't have a foreign
policy at all.
Kecondclaa postage paid it Lincoln,
Neb.
Extension
Long ago and far away a maze of women's living
units sprang up in an institution of higher education.
Now, these coeds were surprisingly friendly and cooper
One day, however, a national sort-of governing group
swooped down on this congenial bunch and disrupter their
serenity by offering them the prize of prizes a golden
marshmellow.
Now naturally everyone was clamoring Tor the marsh
mellow at once. So, to settle these violent disagree
ments, the national group, called NPC, decided that each
of the groups could have it for one year, and then it
would be passed on to the next in line.
The only stipulation was that any group receiving the
golden marshmellow for a year was not allowed to alter
it's marshmellowy luster in any way.
And so it went, from house to house, from year to
year, until today this ancient tradition of the golden D'lilv lWlir'mkm
marshmellow continues in its age old customs. Over the V A11
decades the marshmellow exchange settled into this
pattern:
NPC first gave the golden marshmellow to the "Bank"
who used it as a key to success and passed it on to the
"House Pets." These kittenish coeds cherished it for a
year and then gave it to a rotund coed named "Hanna,"
who was the anchor man on the NU track team.
Another year passed and "Deltas Cubed" locked it
up only to relinquish it to the "Straight Arrows."
Next came the "Owls" who lost it while recounting
their past follies. The "Share-A-Walks" cherished the
marshmellow for a full turn until NPC insisted on a good
neighbor policy and gave it to a well-loved group next
door, the "No Admissions."
In quick order came "Sammie's Neighbors," and the
"Quills" who considered it quite a feather in their col
lective caps.
Time progressed and the marshmellow was awarded
to an aggregation of coeds returning from an unsuccess
ful colonization excursion to Purdue.
A cagey coed called Katy retrieved the prize, only
to lose it a year later to an even more sneaky bunch.
At this point, the golden marshmellow was almost re
turned to its original owners, when more girls clam
ored for rightful possession of the prize.
"Vacationers" booted men out of annexia to claim
ownership, followed by "Unl Place Part One," "Unl
Place Part Two," "Union's Delight," and the "Dizzies."
And so, after all these exchanges, the golden marsh
mellow was still untarnished, and unchanged as it had
been in days of old. And, as NPC policy states," we do
not insist, but strongly suggest that the golden marsh
mellow shall continue to rotate from house to house, and
furthermore, we strongly suggest, but do not insist
that,
TEIPPIIONE: 477 8711
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ter or tB for the academic year. Pub
lished Monday. Wednesday. Thursday
net Friday during the school vear.
except during vacation!! and exam
period, by the students of the I nl
versity of Nebraska under the lurisdlc
Uon of the Kaculty Subcommittee on
Student Publication. Publication! .hall
be free from censorship by the Sub
committee or any iierson outride the
Unlveralty. Member of the Nebrnahan
are responsible for what they cause
to he printed.
Member Aoolated Cnlleitlate Pre,
National Advertising Service, Incur-
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ebraaka I'nion. Lincoln, Neb , 60318.
EDITORIAL STAFF
P.ditor Wayne Kreuseheri Managing
Editor Bruce Giles: News Editor Jan
Itkln: Nlitht News Editor Bill Mlnieri
Editorial Page Assistant Suaie Pheltwi
Start Editor Ed Iccnoglei Assistant
Sport Editor Terry Grasmlrk; Senior
SUff Writer. Julie Morris, Cheryl Trltt.
Handy Irey: .Junior Staff Writer. Mick
lowe, David Ituntnin, Roger Roye, Jim
Kvinger, Dan l.ooker, Paul Eaton. Mark
Gordon, Chrle Carlson: New Assistant
Eileen Wlrth! I'hotngrapher, Mike
May man, Doug Kelstre; Copy Editor
Romney Reotzel, l.vnn Ann Gottachalk.
Martv Dietrich. Jackie Glaacock, Chrla
Stookwell. Diane Undquut. Peg Ben
nett. Btitl.t! UTAFF
Buslnes Manager Bob fllnni Na
tional Advertising Manager Roger
Boyei production Manager Charlea
Uasler I Claullled Advertising Manag
er Janet Boatman, John Hemming;
Secretary Amy Bouska; Butnea Ae
Blstanlj Bob Carter. Glenn Kriendt.
Hum Fuller, Chrla Lougre, Kathy
Schooley, Linda Jeffrey! SulMcrlptloa
Manager Jim Huntz: Circulation Man
ager l.ynn Knthjen; Circulation Aastat
ant Gary Mcyeri Bookkeeper Craig
Marliiuou.
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I Campus J
1 Opinion I
Fourth for Bridge?
Dear Editor:
Bodies caged, crying to be free
To live their own lives,
To have, to keep. Qualities needed
The acceptance of a Stoic, neyer crying out.
The tact of a diplomat, never offending.
The restraint of a balanced rock, never falling.
The stamina of an Olympian athlete, continually test
ed. The concentration of a chessmaster, blocking out all
nonsense.
The understanding of a priest, to answer the "Why?
Why?"
The patience of a cat, waiting at a mouse hole.
The mouse never comes, the wait interminable.
One can wait no longer, but one must;
One must achieve the mouse.
The Mouse, The Pin, The Mouse. Qualities gained
A convict's sense of fellowship super secret hates,
fears.
A barbarian's sense of values totally self concerned.
A faultless fraternity facade mask your humanity.
The creativity of a computer programmed for con
formity. The end result, a human being.
Fed high grade, super refined, pure knowledge six
hours a day.
Fed poor, gross, garbage the other eighteen.
A human being,
Expert at nonsense
Sovereign of the senseless
Skilled in lying
Proficient at cards
Polished playboy
"Fourth for Bridge?"
A Pledge
Sin Unforgiveable
Dear Editor,
The story which you are about to hear may seem
insignificant but to us personally, it was very traumat
ic, and besides, we felt it was too rich to go unshared.
'Twas a typical night in a quiet, girls' dormitory on
the East Campus, although the compulsory house meet
ing was shorter than usual. Ten o'clock and then eleven
o'clock came and went, and all was well. But was it?
Near the stairway, in room 207, trouble was brewing, to
coin an old phrase. The two inmates were getting hun
gry. (Yes, hungry, even after a nourishing meal at the
Nebraska Center.)
Suddenly one inmate had an answer to the hunger
problem. She remembered an advertisement she had
seen earlier in the DAILY NEBRASKAN about an ador
able pizza place that delivers from 4 p.m. until 12:30
a:m. Sweet relief at last! They pledged to stick togcth
er in this endeavor one called the plza place while the
other scrounged up the 20 dimes necessary. (What a sac
rifice! Dimes are scarce in a place where the washers
and dryers take coins 100 of the time and run only
50 of the time.) Next they both headed for the lobby
to await the advent of the delivery wagon.
Oh, sin unforgiveable! They were freshmen. Fresh
men have 11 p.m. closing hours on week nights, as dic
tated by SAW (the women's organization that keeps super-close
tabs on its victims to save them from crime
and-or evil.) SAW also has an unwritten rule about hun
ger which does not plague freshmen after 11:00 p.m.
Pardon my digression and back to my story. As our
two coeds approached the lobby, they spied none other
than their own SAW representative guarding the door
way to the outside world. Being a little loose-tongucd as
freshmen are prone to be, they began to express their
anticipation of the pizza, whereupon our lady from SAW
explained that the coeds would not be able to open the
door for the exchange of pizza and money since it was
after 11:00 p.m.
She further added that if they TRIED to get their
pizza, she would give them (Oh, no!) an infraction. Be
ing In a condition of near-starvation, one gallantly de
clared that she would be willing to accept any infrac
tion just so she got some pizza soon. The other was
speechless for a few moments but finally was able to
ask her SAW rep If she firmly believed the validity of
the SAW rules.
The disgruntled officer switched on her reserve pow
er and recited the SAW codes to the mere freshmen.
This mighty tool quelled the rebellious spirits and even
took the edge off their appetites. The two weakened
coeds bowed in awe of SAW and humbly made their
way back to their room, leaving their triumphant door
guard to receive the pizza man and reject his pizza.
When the hum of his car motor faded into the distance,
peace and security settled, like a shroud, over the dorm.
And the very lobby where it all took place was only
a short time go the scene of extensive public display
of affection until SAW-minded individuals decided the
time had come to wage war against kissing. But that
is another story and you would not believe it, because
though equally true it is more ridiculous than the tale
I have just recounted to you.
Jill Meadcr
Madalyn McNeff
'la .mmfti, f&tif$fL
