Page 2
The Daily Nebraskan
Thursday, September 26, 1968
Tie wiir it .
Student power:
the catalyst
For students, as for black
Z people, the hardest battle isn't
. with Mr. Charlie. It's with what
" Mr, Charlie has done to your
m
I mind.
jerry Farber "The Student as Nigge r
. This, dear conservative, is an explanation of
whv revolution has become so necessary. If Mr.
tharlie has already gotten to your mind, you'd
best leave it alone. It will only make you mad.
I This is an editorial on student power.
.
; . THE ADMINISTRATION is up tight about it,
the radicals banter it around endlessly, the rank
and file students mention it occasionally in company
with football and frat parties. But student power,
the catch-all phrase that means all things to all
people, has rarely been discussed to its logical
conclusion.
As with all forms of power, student power
Is. desired for two reasons: power for power's sake,
and power to transform society.
.
". ; -What we desire is the power to transform
jociety. (Quickly, before it destroys itself.) In a
sense, student power advocates are Utopians. They
want no more imperialistic excursions into other
people's territory. They want ao mire racism. They
want no more poverty. They want to break the
strangle-hold of the big corporations on big labor
pn American thought and policy.
Our country, student thinkers believe, is too
vast and complex for Congress to govern without
ewttsting the aid of highly-informed advisors.
Increasingly, law-makers are looking to the
universities for advice. The problem is that the
arrersity is still a part of the complex that is
tMSMing the country into the ground. We are still
prwhrciBg officers to ma aa immoral war; we
afe still producing executives to continue the cor
porate domination.
Until the university is changed, then, any role
it may play in government will be only as an
echo to imperialism, racism, or whatever injustices
the government will allow.
The goal is a university unbound by economic
or military ties to the establishment. The ROTC
program must be scrapped, and defense contracts
must be allowed to expire before the university
can be free to act as an independent influence
on government
This is where student power comes in. Student
power to liberate the university, through whatever
means necessary. Student power as a catalyst for
progressive government
WITH SUCH an intellectual group at work in
society, there should be no more Vietnams. There
should be no more brief trips into Guatemala or
the Dominican Republic. After student power,
justice.
Jack Todd
: Poem on the day after
It only needed to hare happened once
Z the grenade in the lemonade,
the political rape of Betsy Wetsy
But they keep raging wars
- scraping sking from skulls,
punching Ho Ti in the belly,
kicking pubescent toward
2 the holocaust
'And surrounding it all with a
halo
that smells
more of decay
I than divinity.
Unaea Becker
Cunning
toad
outwits coe
bv John Hill
(Reprinted from last year by
popular demand.
The little hoppy-toad quietly
hopped across the lawn of the
KU campus and humbly ap
proached the coed.
"Excuse me," said the
hoppy-toad with humility,
"would you please give me
a kiss so that I can turn into
a handsome prince?"
"HI!" She squealed with
delight. "What fraternity are
you in?"
The toad sighed.
"Don't tell me let me
guess," said the toad. "You'
re a freshman."
"Right! How did you know?
Where's your fraternity pin?" "Well, yeah .
"I am an Enchanted Toad."
he said with great dignity, his
little hoppy-toad chest swell
ing proudly.
"I don't think I know where
that house is." she said, wide
er blank expression getting
blanker.
"YOU DON'T understand,"
said the toad, looking un
comfortable. "I'd like you to
give me a kiss so I can
become my true self. I'm
really not a toad. I'm a
handsome prince, if I do say
so myself, and"
"You mean you're having
trouble finding the real you?"
"I know what you mean."
She bent over and looked Very
solemnly at the ugly little
hoppy-toad. "I'm having
trouble finding myself too.
Sometimes I II just sit in my
room and play Joan Baez
records, or Bob Dylan "
"Yes, I'm sure but if you
could just"
"or Barbra Streisand, or
Peter, Paul, and Harold
records for hours when I get
depressed." She paused for a
moment, and then added in
a confidential tone, ''My
Cwen says I'm having my
Identity Crisis."
"I'M SURE your Cwen
must know," yawned the
toad, fascinated by the turn
the conversation had taken.
"After all, she is a Cwen, and
smiles a lot and all, but my
own problem is very simp!e."
He knew he would have to
keep this very clear. "I am
not really the ugly toad you
see before you; that is, I'm
not what I appear, i.e., the
real me is not what you see,
ergo,"
"I'm the same way! I'm
never sure if I'm a
disillusioned idealist, or a
optimistic free-spirit struggl
ing to emerge unblemished
into a cynical world, or a
socially-oriented seeker o f
practical advantages, or"
"Look," said the toad
tiredly, "it's about this mere
shell of my former self that
you now see before you. I'm
really not a toad."
"You mean you're really
not a toad?" Her wide eyes
and blank look revealed her
keen grasp of the obvious.
"Yeah, I'm a salamander
traveling incognito. No, really
every since that residence
hall director caught me in a
P.D.A., uh, a public display
of actions, it's been like this.
She sprinkled some of that
evil red ink that girls who
come In late have to sign in
with all over me, and I've
been an ugly toad instead of
a handsome prince. Now how
about that kiss?"
A LONG passionate kiss fol
lowed. Finally, the freshman
girl staggered away dazzled,
but serenely happy inside that
she had helped another in
finding himself during the
confusing beginnings of Col
lege. "Those freshman girls," the
ugly toad smirked to himself
as he quietly hopped away,
"they'll believe anything."
Reprinted from Kansas State
Collegiate
DAILY
NEBRASKAN
h&jis
Commentary
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I R.COBB
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Ex Libris Nebraskensis
(Or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying about Love)
by Larry Eckholt
It was to have been the
Perfect Paper. "Gargoyles
and Their Function in
U n i v e rsity Architectural
Design." But I needed
Chauncey Howenworth's
noted book on the subject to
finish the paper. I went to
the library.
There was a card in the
card catalog for the book. BH
527h87.1, a Dewey Decimal
classification. I bad noticed
that the place had been
changed around since the last
time I was there, so I went
for assistance in finding the
book.
THEN IT BEGAN. The cred
ibility gap at work.
"Dewey Decimal 001 to 499
in Room 205; 500 to 599 in
109," answered a chirpy
young thing at the informa
tion table.
I deciphered the message:
the book would be in Room
109. It wasnt.
"Have yoa looked in the
stacks? Then, go to Level 1,
follow the yellow line to the
annex, take a right tarn. The
book should be en a shelf to
ytcr left," replied an older
wc-mas at the same table. Tea
ninates kad elapsed since my
firft visit.
I followed all directions.
But the book was not on the
shelf. There was no shelf in
the first place!
"Are yon sure that we have
the book?"
YES, I SAID, at least
there's a card in the catalog.
She volunteered to find the
book for me. She soon
returned, smiling, and ex
plained that she just called
Interlibrary Loan Service,
that the book was now shelv
ed in the stacks at the Law
College Annex.
"A "book on gargoyles in
architectural design?"
"Well, then, the book is at
the bindery. Yes, that's where
it Is, at "the bindery." She
smiled and walked away.
It was apparent that I
would not find the book. Yet
I was determined to carry on
a personal purge.
I tried Central Reserve,
Audio-Visual, the Reference
Room I even checked
Microfacsimile, the book
could have been mini-filmed.
I EVEN CHECKED all of
the men's restrooms and had
coeds checking the women's
restrooms. But the book just
couldn't be found.
I gave up, throughly
disheartened. As I walked
past the second floor check
out station, I overheard a
conversation of an old, frail
woman, tottering near the
desk. Her voice was timid.
She seemed embarrassed.
"I hate to bother you busy
people." she said. "Biit I was
wondering if you have seen
my daughter, Ludella."
"WHO?"
"Ludella Parkinson. She is
a librarian here. But she
hasn't been home for some
time, and I am getting wor
ried." "We'll put a check on her."
SEVERAL DAYS later the
remains of Ludella Parkinson
were found, clutching a copy
of Chauncey Howenworth's
Confessions of a Demented
Architect, on the third level
of the stacks. An investigation
revealed that Miss Parkinson,
then about 40, had worked in
the library during the early
'50s. Apparently she had died
of natural causes over 15
years ago.
I now have the book I
needed and am nearly
finished with my paper. I plan
to send a copy of it to poor
old Mrs. Parkinson.
Campus
Op
mion
Daily Nebraskan
SeconeVcJaai aorta re hM at Llama, (let).
NEg fUtiwr 472-ZJ8I, Kews rn-am. Bastneaj m-t!M.
TP.t STUttW
Pabiintieo Moaaay ttatmt, Ttmrmlny mat Friday drto a ncnool war
eeepi onriiwr rmcumm and nam aerials by the etadeate at Om liairrrotr
ef Nebraska ander (he InrttdVtioa of tnc Faculty sabeomnrittsa aa grades
Psbbcsnoaa Pnbikaoone snail be Ire from eecurnhip by tha Sobconimiltta
ar mm, arm anode the limreratr. Member at tbs Kabraskaa an i annualize
BBB? fartvaiaV sTnaeaBa) al iaaa ' ' . -
I Gonadals
Editorial Staff
' Jan; Maafe Wftar U lomatUt (Map tmm Uma Kottsnfcaiki
FifH (Cava rtsr Keat Occam Edttonal Page Aarttiaat Motiy iTirreili Aanuut
Kit aeva tt.wr Phil Medcaif; Sparta Editor Mark Cor-aoa, tnuum Sparta taiar
Rasa Vorks Senior Sufi Writers- Jobs Dvorak. Larry tdkbort. Gear Kaafroan.
Jabs Mum, Jua Peder, Jaaier Staff Writers: Barf Denote, Tarry Grebe, baity
oeeabereer. Bill gmnbermna. Conn Kinkier; Senior Copy Editor Joaa Waceoaers
Copy Editors: Phyllis Adfcssoa, Dan Fiiipi. Jane Wartooer, Andrea WoodaiFnote
grat Cfttrf Daa Lafeiyi Pbotsgrapber Jus Sbaw; Artists Brent firtnasr aad bail
Business Staff
Basmeas Mauser J. L. Srhmidt: Bookkeeper Boter Boye; Proditrthw Manager
Joan Hemirut; .National Aa Manaeer mil Mxtemaser; tuuiDess Morreury ana
Ctaasnied Ada Linda I Irira; Sabarriptioa Manaeer Jan Boatman; Circulation Man
aeers turn Pavetka. Bick Doran; Salesmen Meg Browa. Joel Daris. Ciena Frieadt.
Ikaacy Owiluut. tea Looker, Tatfd &au(Mer.
Re: the sale of "under
ground" newspapers at the
Union magazine rack.
Certainly The Asterisk or
the Buffalo Chip are no worse
than some of the trivia cur
rently on sale, (i.e. hairdo
handbooks; television anthol
ogies; et al)
It appears that the Union
should review its policy in
choosing what is for sale. If
it can offer tha Omaha World
Heryid ft can offer the Gpiiaa
Star.
. In dealing with a so-called
intellectual community the
Union could offer a higher
selection of intellectual read
ing material on both sides,
in addition to the bland mid
dle. LEE.
PETIT, THE POET
Seeds in a dry pod, tick, lick, tick,
Tick, tick, tick, like mites in a
quarrel
Faint iambics that the full breeze
wakens
But the pine tree makes a sym
phony thereof.
Triolets, viUaneHes, rondels, ron
deaus, Ballades by the score with the same
old thought:
The snows and the roses of yester
day are vanished;
And what is love but a rose that
fades?
Life all around me here in the
village:
Tragedy, comedy, valor, and truth,
Courage, constancy, heroism, fail
ure All in the loom, and oh what pat
terns t
Woodlands, meadows, streams,
and rivers
Blind to all of it all my life long.
Triolets, viUqneUes, rondels, roju
dews,
Seeds in a dry pod, tick, tkh tkk,
Tick, tick, tick, what little iambics,
While Homer and Whitman roared
in the pines?
n t m
1VLO
Edgar Lee Masters
