Friday, September 13, 1963
Puqe 2
The Daily Nebraskan
ditorial
Commemtarj
DAILY
NEBRASKAN
U
J!
s 1
Tie dry season
Thoughts of a dry brain in a dry season.
The saints of resistance have trod. They have
fought in Bolivia, they have marched in Selma,
thev have suffered crackod heads and weary feet.
- They' 'have been maced and mangled, beaten and
broken!"
n'it
THEY HAVE dreamed the impossible dream,
they have told it on the mountain and they have
even threatened the fire next time.
But the beating goes on.
That old juggernaut, the Military and Industrial
complex which Rules the World, just keeps on
rolling on. Che Guevara is dead and gone, Martin
Luther King is the dream that might have been.
Regis Debray is in jail. Charles DeGaulle is still
president of France. Richard Francis Daley is still
mayor of Chicago.
And after all that, after the marches and the
beatings and the jails and the speeches, the saints
have been formulated, they have been pinned; they
have been left pinned and wriggling on the wall.
But the war goes en.
They even fight on the strange and acrid plains
of Nebraska. They form parties, they are concern
ed; they seek peace and they seek freedom.
We would hope that somewhere, out of all
that hoping and talking and fighting and dreaming,
some good would come.
IX OMAHA, Ernie Chambers is running for the
School Board. If only he could win.
In Lincoln, Bruce Hamilton is running for Con
gress. If only he could win.
But Chambers won't win and Hamilton won't
win and the war will go on.
So you see, saints are rather useless creatures
after all.
Woodman
Here it is at last. The demonstration in which
we can all participate.
THE FACTS are simple. The administration (cul
prits all) want to cut down all those lovely trees be
hind Sheldon so that they can build an even more
" lovely structure (so they say) a sculpture garden.
No one would really kick about having a
sculpture garden. (Depending, of course, on what
they put in it.) But when you consider that they
intend to tear up the only pretty place on campus
to put it there, you begin to wonder.
To be in this demonstration, you don't have
to be in SDS or the Peace and Freedom Party.
You could even be a Republican. Or a fascist,
for that matter.
Just find out what day they're going to cut
down the trees, find yourself a perch, and force
them to bulldoze you over. -;
Please, chancellor, spare those trees. '
Go Home, Bill
There's a nice, polite little letter from a certain
syndicate in my desk. They want to know why
I haven't asked Bill Buckley to send us his popular
column again.
My, my. You'd think those syndicate people
could afford to buy a television set.
Happy reading ...
The Lincoln Police Department (you know,
those boys in blue down on 10th street who polish
their nightsticks every night and dream of the
day when they'll have a riot of their very own)
have subscribed to the Daily Nebraskan.
It's nice to know you're wanted, but in what
svsy?
Jack Todd
Hopscotch?
See Your
Local
Recruiter
Class Filled
As of
May 1st
Classroom
Finished
By Spring
Advance
One Step
Stand In
Line
Stand In
Line
Fay $5.00
Get Time
Apt. Card
Stand la
Line
Inside report
Larry Eckholt . . .
Riots not needed
to save trees
Graffiti on the Coliseum Sidewalk.
During the summer I wrote
a story for the Summer
Nebraskan which dealt with
trees and causes and pro
gress. . Much- concern, was .shown
about a certain Russian Oak
on East Campus which was
destined to be cut down
because of a new entrance
to the campus.
THE TREE is still standing
because University planners
decided that the road could
be designed in such a way
that the tree might live. In
fact, it might even add
something to the beauty of
the new entrance.
But it had to be pointed
out to some people that trees
are not just a temporary
thing. Given the right growing
conditions, the proper care,
and some consideration, a
particular tree grows for
decades.
But now more campus trees
are threatened. This time on
the City Campus.
For years the University
has Been taiKing aDout a
sculpture garden being built
near Sheldon Art Gallery. For
years, the students have
generally anticipated this
addition to the campus with
great enthusiasm.
But a casual walk through
the area proposed for the
garden reveals that nearly
half of the trees in the area
are going to go. Ominous
white circles gird those trees
which will be saved. Ominous
because history suggests that
they may not be saved
anyvvay.
MANY OF the trees were
to be saved for landscaping
the building. Most of them
were considered priceless and
were tagged for salvation.
Well, the man who operated
the bulldozer had the final
say. He thought the mark
meant that the tree was to
go. And they did. In the end
most of the trees were finally
taken out because they just
couldn't be saved.
But some of the trees which
will go now are perfectly
healthy and just happen to
be very pretty. The area is
one of a few spots on campus
which actually has some
grass (the lawn type) left.
I don't think that the
sculpture garden is a bad
idea.
like reflecting pools and
modern sculpture and
benches and everything else
connected with the garden.
And I appreciate that the
Sheldon family t h o u gh t
enougn of the cultural needs
of the University to bequeath
Our man hoppe ...
Triumphant hour
lacks happ
it with the m a g n i f i c e nt
gallery itself and the garden
which will enhance it.
BUT, THE plain and simple
fact is that much wil .be. .
sacrificed for the garden.-And
I think some of the trees
which are marked for
destruction could be saved.
Why does a designer tear
up a pretty place to "add"
beauty to the campus. Was
the area the only area
available for the garden? Did
it have to be so concentrated?
So it looks like the
University student body has
a perfect issue before it. The
perfect demonstration is also
coming into sight:
On the day which the trees
are to be removed students
could gallantly grace various
branches. Certainly some
kind of negotiations could be
w orked out w ithout bloodshed.
And how many people could
call them Maoists for wanting
to save trees?
I can hear the chant now:
"A riot there doesn't have
to be,
"But only I can save this
tree!"
John Schmidt . . .
by Arthur Hoppe
Chicago
Once upon a time in the
country called Wonderfuland,
there were wars and riots and
unease and disillusionment.
Now Wonderfuland was run
by those called The Grown
Ups. And it was clear that
The Grown-Ups weren't run
ning it very well.
IT WAS clearest of all to
The Children "Why can't
there be peace and equality
and justice and kindness?"
they said. "Why? Why?
Why?"
"Don't ask so many ques
tions," said The Grown-Ups
irritably. "You'll understand
just as soon as you're Grown
Ups, too."
The Children swore they
would never understand. They
vowed to tear down this sorry
scheme of things entirely.
Only they didn't quite know
how.
Then along came a shining
knight on a white charger
who said he would lead them
to peace and equality and
justice and kindness.
Some of The Children
thought his name was
Eugene, some thought it was
Bobby. And some came to
think it was Teddy. But
whatever his name, The
Children worshipped The
Shining Knight. And they
followed him through snows
and deserts and valleys and
mountains and forests for
months and months and
thousands and thousands of
miles.
At last he lead them to the
very citadel of The Grown
Ups, a fortress called
Chicago.
THERE WEREclub-carry-lng
guards in white helmets
as far as The Children could
see. And there were Grown
Ups everywhere, openly
wheeling and dealing and
maneuvering with public con
tempt for fairness and justice.
"Fear not," cried The
Children. "We shall win the
battle, for our cause is just
and our hearts are pure."
So the battle began. Some
of The Children were brutally
clubbed. Some were reviled.
And all were appalled by how
callously and unfairly The
Grown-Ups fought.
"If that's the way they want
to fight," said The Children,
as the tide ran against them,
"we'll fight that way, too."
So some who had talked of
kindness threw rocks. And
some who had talked of
fairness tried to wheel and
deal. But they didn't know
how. And The Shining Knight
went down to defeat quickly
and easily just as The
Grown-Ups had known he
would all along.
Some of The Children wept.
"It's not fair," said a
beautiful young girl, her large
eyes wet with tears. "It's just
not fair."
A FEW VOWED to fight on
somehow.
But many grew apathetic
and disillusioned. "I guess
that's the way life is," they
said wearily, "and there's not
much we can do about it."
At this. The Grown-Ups
patted them on their
shoulders and said, "See? We
told'you that you'd
understand when you became
Grown-Ups, too."
So, as expected, it was a
famous victory for The
Grown-Ups. An overwhelm
ingly easy victory, as ex
pected. All as expected.
And the only odd thing in
the glorious hour of triumph
was that no one was happy
about it. Not the old Grown
Ups nor the new Grown-Ups.
No one was happy at all.
Moral: So what's so great
about growing up?
Soul, rubber and otherwise
In memory of my favorite
pair of shoes, my desert
suede chuka boots, I am
about to relate the following
tale of woe.
Desert boots are virtually
indestructible with their soft
leather uppers and strong
crepe soles. A summer of
pavement pounding in search
for cultural inspiration proved
to be the undoing of my crepe
soles, as a hole the size of
a quarter appeared in my left
one.
Hot nights in Lincoln sent
me in quest of refreshment
for body- and soul. The
frustration of one place hiking
the price of pizza and another
the price of "frostier" sent
me hiking greater distances
in search of pleasure.
Now, as the campus comes
alive with many boots and an
even greater thirst, it appears
that soul satisfaction is in the
near future.
Saturday, September 21,
marks the arrival and ap
pearance of the first of three
black soul groups in Lincoln.
The Checkmates Limited will
perform at the University
Coliseum for an evening con
cert and dance.
This is the group that
usually plays Caesars Palace
in Las Vegas and has brought
such comments as, "If I'm
ever out of work, The
Checkmates Limited is the
group I would want to be part
of." This comment came
from Bill Cosby, one of the
many contemporary enter
tainers who have taken an
interest in rock groups.
Woody Allen has said, " .
. . they're brilliant musically
and extremely funny and they
do create a fantastic amount
of excitement." This brings
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Editorial Staff
..Editor Jack Todd; Managing Editor Ed Icenogle; New. Editor Lynn Gottseheik;
Night New. Editor Kent Cockson; Editorial Page Assistant Molly Murrell; Assistant
Night news Editor Phil Medcalli Sports Editor Mark Gordon; Assistant Sports Edilor
Randy York; Senior Staff Writers: John Dvorak, Larry Eclkholt, George Kaufman,
Julie Morris, Jim Pederseni Junior Staff Writers: Bart Dennis, Terry Grobe, Holly
Rosenberger, Bill Smitfierman, Connie Winkler; Senior Copy Editor Joan Wauonert
Copy Editors: Phyllis Adkisson. Dave Fllipi, June Waggoner, Andrea Woods; Photo
graph Chief Daa Ldelj Photographer Jim Shaw; ArUsta Brut Skinner and Gail
PleMman. -
up another point, they put on
a fabulous show, one' well
worth the money and the trek
to the Coliseum.
The tighten-up originators
from Houston Texas, Archie
Bell and the Drells, bring
their sounds to Lincoln's
Pershing Auditorium on Fri
day, September 27.
With a sound that sounds
bigger than from a four man
combo, The Drells conquered
the national charts with "The
Tighten Up" and other later
hits. Another trek which will
be well worth the trip, if you
sit close to the stage.
If Nebraska weather
doesn't cramp his style any
more than an International
tour did, the Charles Lloyd
quartet will entertain the
more relaxed outdoor au
dience at Sheldon Art Gallery
on October 4.
All I can say about Charles
Lloyd that hasn't already
been said is that if you're
in the mood for a change,
slip a Lloyd record in with
that stack of whatever you're
Mania to apd yeu wjll pe
pleasantly surprised.
Incidentally, if anyone has
a size 14 desert boot they'd
like to loan me (a left one
please) I would be able to
make these three journeys to
an appeasement of my soul
at the expense of your sole.
Kremlin trapped
by Rowland Evans and
Robert Novak
Washington The deeper reason for the acute
and still-rising alarm in the West over the crisis
in Eastern Europe is not so much the Soviet in
vasion of Czechoslovakia as the fear that the
Kremlin has now allowed itself to be caught in
a trap from which there is no exit.
There is deep concern among highly-placed of
ficials, both in the Western and anti-Soviet Com
munist camps, that the swift movement of several
hundred thousand Soviet soldiers . into
Czechoslovakia was marked by highly erratic if
not irrational conduct within the Kremlin.
FOR EXAMPLE, some expert analysts now
believe that the prime consideration behind the
August 20 occupation was a virtual ultimatum by
the Soviet joint staff with a very interesting and
uncomfortable motive in mind: To block the pro
jected summit meeting between Soviet Premier
Alexei Kosygin and President Johnson.
The first word that these two world leaders
had agreed to meet in Geneva to start talks on
control of anti-ballistic missile systems reached,
top-level Soviet officials about August 18. Within
two days Soviet troops, with token help from loyal
- Warsaw Pact allies, had invaded Czechoslovakia.
Thus the announcement of the Big Two meeting,
scheduled for the following day simultaneously in
Washington and Moscow, was nipped in the bud.
Evidence that this military takeover was not
preceded by elementary precautions on the political
front is too blatant to be ignored.
The Soviet ambassador's glib assurance to the
Kremlin that a Quisling government could quickly
be installed in Prague turned out to be wholly
false. Moreover, the apparent assumption in
Moscow that the Czechs would follow the course
of least resistance, as they had in 1938 under
Hitler's coup and Stalin's own takeover in 1948,
ignored the most fundamental fact of political life
in the torn and shredded Soviet empire today.
This fact is that the Czech movement toward
a free press, economic decentralization, and a
Communist party with power coming from the rank
and file, not rigidly controlled from the top, is
a true reflection of the inexorable direction of,
Communist satellite politics today, heavily larded
with nationalism.
Thus the Czechs correctly see themselves as
the wave of the future. In 1938, to the contrary,
the obvious wave of the future was Hitler and
in 1948 it was Stalin.
BUT EVEN MORE to the point is the apparent
lack of consensus within the Kremlin preceding .
the invasion in favor of an easy policy toward
Czechoslovakia, and yet Suslov is generally
regarded as an ideological hard-liner and theoreti
cian of party orthodoxy.
On the other side, Wladyslaw Gomulka of
Poland and Walter Ulbricht of East Germany are
warning Moscow that if there is a Soviet retreat
from Czechoslovakia they may not be able to hold
their own positions.
Suslov has been trying to put back together
the old Moscow-led international Communist world.
The Czech occupation has made that impossible,
destroying Moscow's credentials in Italy, France,:
and other countries with minority Communist
parties.
Accordingly, the Kremlin is caught in a trap,
which is why some well-informed Soviet experts
in both the Western and the Communist camps
now fear that the Czech affair may be leading
straight to the most dangerous East-West con
frontation since the Cuban missile crisis or the
1961 Berlin crisis. But in both those situations,
one man held the reins of power in Moscow.
Today there is no Nikita Khruschev. Power
is split among half a dozen men, with the military
apparently in a new ascendancy, determined to
employ mailed-fist solutions for the most subtle,
complex political problem the disintegration of
the Soviet empire. Not only is there no single
leader to make decisions, there's no apparent way
out of the Czech crisis at all. That's why, behind
the official facade here, the mood is blacker than
at any time in the past six years.
The Skit
Awhile or so ago
General Grant helped Lincoln free the black.
He was a man of history.
He won a war for liberty. (Rah, Rah)
But now, no longer proud,
His ghost is aghast.
For the grass is red and read
In the park that bears his name
And that lady saint of freedom,
her voice a tired siren,
her breath a tear-gas stench,
and her great arm so club weary
that she no longer holds the torch,
Hides her head in Helmets
And is too deaf to hear the beggars.
Too old to know remorse.
For there was a skit in Daley's City.
where on the director's cue,
a roll-call engine outvoiced the few.
and it was staged appropriately
in the midst of barb wire and stockyards.
But the title was ill-chosen
For the real ' 'Convention" was on the streets
where the people milled
and where the blood was spilled.
Where the stains on Hilton's gutter
debated Marquee greetings,
"Mayor Daley welcomes you,"
but not you or me, not even Cronkite.
And the Mace Man squirted
While far away the Bombers bombed
And everywhere People pondered
"oh where, oh where is this place ',
they call Viet Nam?"
And I, I once pledged allegiance.
But, alas, a pig with a can
sprayed me in the face
And tbroygh the bhflr
A bjac baoaar flurried.
And someone whispered
"One nation over the ft PI"
And I answered
"Divided with liberty for swine
And justice for none."
And I was arrested on TV,
But the camera was busted.
David Bunnell
S
fry
-
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