What? Oh,yeah?
So who cares?
By Lusty Left
Editor's Note: Adolph Kleinstein is an
Austrian-born philosopher who is touring the
U.S. lecturing at universities on the American
educational system. He visited UNL Monday and
granted the Daily Nebraskan an interview. The
following are excerpts from that interview.
DN: Dr. Kleinstein, from what you have seen
of UNL, how would you rate it with other
institutions of comparable enrollment?
AK: What?
DN: Does UNL compare favorably with
other institutions of similar size?
AK: Yes.
DN: Could you elaborate on that a little?
Bullish
. AK: Well, when you get right down to hard
facts, when you ignore all the distractions and
really focus on the operational problems at a
school like this one, you can see that UNL is
about the same size as comparable schools.
DN: How does UNL compare academically
with other schools?
AK: Well, what can you say? A school is a
school is a school, do you follow me? mean,
ignoring all the unimportant things, that's really
what it comes down to isn't it?
DN,: Well, yes. I suppose it is.
AK: Could you elaborate on that a little?
DN: Doctor, what do you think are the social
implications of the various fads that colleges go
through? The streaking of a year ago, for
example.
More bull
, AK: I'll have to admit that wasn't a bad fad,
but I'll tell you one that I saw down South that
was much better. It's called dropping trou and
the idea is to drop your pants while walking to
class without losing stride, and then to act like
nothing is wrong..
DN: I understand, Doctor, that you've talked
with the top administrators at UNL. What is your
opinion of the men that run this school?
AK: I'll tell you, that Devaney guy really has
something on the ball. He's on the boat. I mean
that guy is straight down the fairway, so to
speak.
DN: Doctor, you seem to have picked up
American expressions very well. Is that a result
of being around colleges so much?
Hyperclivic
AK: Well, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em, I
always say. I mean you've got to get your head
together and look around to see what's
happening. Are you with me?
DN: What do you think is the future of.
student governments at large universities?
AK: Well, you know the organizational
-qualities of a student-run institution certainly
possess a good deal of utility, and I'll have to say
that the departure from the norms of
socio-economic status that seems to have riddled
student governments is certainly not desireable,
but overall there has to be some mechanism that
is responsible to the desires, the wishes, the needs
of the students and so I guess when you say
student government, you've hit the nail on the
head.
DN: So you think student government is here
to stay?
Flunate
AK: Actually, I think it's outlived its life
expectancy, as they say in the sidewalk business.
DN: Have you talked with any of the newly
elected ASUN officers?
AK: Yes, and there's no question that they
are just about the best any school could hope to
offer. Real clean-cut kids, I'd say.
DN: Doctor, what advice do you have for
this generation of students, who face the
possibility of permanent unemployment when
they graduate?
AK: Well, I'll tell you. I say keep your chin up
and your nose in the books. Some say that's
impossible but I've seen it done. And another
tiling, remember that there isn't a man alive
today who hasn't contemplated suicide at one
time or another.
DN: Doctor, what would you say it UNL's
most encouraging characteristic?
AK: You know, 1 try to ask myself that
question of every school I visit because it's a
good one to ask. I guess the most encouraging
feature is your campus security system.
DN: Is that an important one?
AK: Listen, kid. When you've been to as
many universities as 1, when you've seen the
corruption, the drug peddling, the riots, the
crazy kids and their crazy cars, you can see that
keeping all of these things in order, making sure
nothing gets out of hand, that is the important
thing. And UNL has some great officers. If
you're looking for a school with law
enforcement, this is the one.
DN: Do you advocate strict enforcement on
campuses of all laws?
AK: Absolutely.
DN: I'm sorry doctor, but I can't let you
smoke that in here.
april 1, 1975
' f
kih""" mvmmimmmm ., .,-.,..t,..i.,i..J,
- ..... l i r
far - vWw;
! ) i J .' . ..2.
t i 'l '''''
It ii v
University students are constantly aware of the better things in life, as depicted by this student caught in the act
of accepting his award as Outstanding Freshman Student at the 1975 Honors Convocation.
m D m W D r &
ey-tney re playing our sarong
"Choosy about my peanut butter? You
bet!"-Wally Cox.
It had been one of those days. My shirt smelled
like last night's party, my underwear was making
tracks for regions unknown and when the
good-looking broad in psychology had finally smiled
at me, she had the remains of a liverwurst sandwich
wedged between her front teeth.
The guys at the I Krappa Lot house had tried
streaking the night before, but had been put to shame
when the chicks at the Sigma Phi Nothing house
pelted them with empty Chicken of the Sea cans and
summer sausage rinds. All in all, the campus hadn't
seen any real action since the previous semester's stud
strike, provoked when ANUS President Jon
Flingapeel demanded that Food Service be required
to pay students to eat in residence hall cafeterias,
using "Remember all those starving children in
India," as the strike's theme.
While student interest had initially been low, Vice
President Dave Andhowlet had made a passionate
plea for student participation by bathing at Selleck's
soft-serve ice cream machine one night during supper
and riding the conveyor belt back to the kitchen
screaming, "Down with Johnny Marzetti!"
I'm a poet
But everyone seemed tired this semester. The
economy vas bad, classes were worse and my
complexion had discovered new potentials for
break-outs. As I brooded over my bad luck, I
absent-mindedly picked up the campus newspaper,
The Stale Nebraskan, and flipped through its pages.
Then it happened. A neatly-placed advertisement
caught my eye and set me quivering down to the tip
of my solarious maxis grudi. Little Uncle Jeckyll's
Royal Gorge and Water Rail was sponsoring another
Test the Sexes night. That meant lots of jouncing
bods, foaming beer and free prizes for all good sports!
I nearly gagged myself as I blurted out the news to
the fun-loving fellows who had joined me at our usual
spot in The Onion. We all agreed it was an event we
couldn't miss, and piedged to go en masse, with
anyone who chickened out being forced to spend a
night at the Lawrence Samuel Hotel with Scuzy Sally,
known campus-wide for her frequent cold sores.
I don't know it
As we shared draws in the dimly-lit corner of a
local dive, 1 tried to focus my already-dulled senses
on the whole point of our intoxication-Test the
Sexes night. It sounded simple enough; any guy who
could prove he wasn't a chick, or any broad who
could prove she wasn't a fella won a free pitcher of
Buckhorn Beer. But I'd heard that the devilish
bartenders often devised tricky and humiliating tests!
Was I up to it? Only time could teiJ.
But oh, Louise
Before we knew where the hours had flown, it was
tine to make our way to LUJRGWR's. A lengthy
wait in line proved to be worth while, for when we
stepped into the building, we realized just how
unique an experience it was going to be.
From back somewhere near the restrooms bloated
a chorus of "seventy -seven bottles of beer on the
wall," while a shirtless something danced on a nearby
table top with a lampshade on its head.
I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to face a
burly barkeep. She smiled and said, "OK, honey, let's
daily nebraskan
see your stuff!"
My feet show it
I was jolted back to reality. As I frantically looked
about the room, 1 now noticed a strange variety of
activities going on, as Test the Sexes night demanded
its toll.
To my left, a girl was being asked to recite all of
Seventeen magazine's latest party hints, while a little
to my right a blushing young nineteen-year-old tried
to get out a dirty joke. What tests of man- and
womanhood! This was going to be tough.
I adjusted my wear while I listened to the
bartender's demands. Her name was Scrap and she
kept winking at me. (I'm lonely, she moaned.) Scrap
it, Scrap, I thought.
My test was to consist of creating a new line or
two of grafitti for the men's room which would
surpass all others in alliteration, rhythm, mood and
dancability.
Burma shave
I stepped to the side with a pad and pencil to
compose. Finally, I came up with a winner.
Roses are red, pickles are green. You've got the
funniest $&t ! the world's ever seen!
I was satisfied with my effort and presented it to
Scrap. She loved it! "You've got real writing talent,"
she breathed, shoving a pitcher at me with one hand
and tweeking my bottom with the other. Then she
headed for the men's room to inscribe the new work.
eddy stutters
backside
I stumbled to lind a table in the crowded room.
My head was spinning and my stomach turning as I
leaned over the table of a shapely lass and gasped,
"What d'ya say, babe?" She wrinkled her nose and
whispered, "Qui a coupe le frommage?"
Suddenly I recognid a pair of SwcatsIuitS
looming ahead of me. It was the well-endowed
dark-haired chick. As my eyes made a valiant attempt
to focus, I realized her shirt featured Snoopy making
lewd advances to Woodstock. This girl has
possibilities, I thought.
I dropped into a chair near her and offered her a
share of my pitcher. She accepted with a demure grin.
Conversation was nearly impossible in the noisy bar,
but I noticed a large trophy sitting near the cliick's
left you-know-what. I lunged toward her in an
attempt to grab the object (I mean the trophy), and
asked as I leered close, "Hey shweetie, what's this
piece of rock for?"
"That's what I was going to ask you," she said,
talking to my belt. "Seriously, though, I won this for
bounding up and down in front of the
sexually-frustrated forty-year old manager over there,
Bob Cola. I left him passed out under the foosball
table."
"I'm proud of you, baby," I snorted. "Whatcha
gonna do with this gem?"
"I was about to offer it to you," she sighed as she
rose laboriously from the table. "You can stick it in
your backside."
How'd she know I wrote this column?
page 3
