Traditional values will prevail
Two years ago, I made my debut
at UNL as an 18-year-old freshman.
A naive small-town boy, I was
ready to experience a new way of
life.
On the night before I left my
hometown to begin my first year of
college, I sat visiting with my
great-grandmother. Usually a
lighthearted women, a stern look
suddenly blanketed her face. “Learn
a lot in college, Jamie,” she said,
“but never, never forget who you
are.”
Grandma's little speech took.
By my first few weeks at the
university, I could spot those who
had forgotten who they were.
I watched long-haired sloths,
desparate for attention, cry for the
legalization of marijuana. (They
called themselves NORMAL, but I
had seen more normality at a
carnival freak show.)
That same week, I looked on as
homosexual students pleaded with
people to “come out” and be
comfortable with homosexuality.
And on one occasion, I even
evacuated Ferguson Hall via an
open first-floor window, all because
a crazed student in the classroom
next door reportedly had tried to
blow away his professor and his
classmates with an assault weapon.
I had seen enough. I was ready
to head back home.
In my hometown of Dorchester
— although only 30 miles from
Lincoln — we never worried about
someone walking into the class
rooms with a gun. Homosexual
rights were never on our agenda.
And nobody ever smoked the
vegetation in the roadside ditches.
Growing up in a small town, I
was raised as a traditionalist; so
was everyone else of my generation,
and everyone of each generation
before.
Whatever the economic stand
ing, whatever the family name, we
were all conservatives, whether we
admitted it or not. That does not
mean we always voted Republican,
or sat around a radio listening to an
egocentric Rush Limbaugh.
No, our conservatism was “street
Culture is about life and how we
will live it. The culture war is about
the assault on those small-town
values and family virtues that
make life worth living in the first
place.
comer” conservatism — the sort
that comes from absorbing the
attitudes and values of our parents
and grandparents. It was the
conservatism that comes from being
raised Lutheran, attending Cat
echism and church week after
week, and believing and acting in
accordance with the holy Christian
doctrine.
Ours was conservatism of the
heart. It was common sense, too.
Our university is composed
mostly of students who come from
small towns. Almost all of us come
from close families — families who
have made our upbringings so
memorable. These communities and
families have taught us life's truths,
and the differences between right
and wrong. Most of us hold them
dear.
But some get on the wrong path
as soon as they get on their own.
Some forget their roots. Some
forget who they are.
As we approach adulthood, we
confirm or deny what we have
learned in home and school and
church. We profess, or reject, the
traditions and beliefs of our
childhood. In our hearts, we love
and respect, or insult and ridicule,
where we come from.
As a result, we have conflicting
beliefs, contradicting ideals and
ideological enemies. We have a
clash between traditionalists and
those who consider themselves
“liberated, independent thinkers."
Some call it a culture war. Indeed,
it is a war — a war about who we
are.
Culture is about life and how we
will live it. The culture war is about
the assault on those small-town
values and family virtues that make
life worth living in the first place.
America, today especially, needs
a common bond. Culture is the key.
For if Americans no longer share
the same societal standards and the
same religious foundation, then we
will fail to share one nation.
As easy as that is to understand,
we still hear those who stress
“multiculturalism.” The state
mandates multiculturalism in our
public schools. Government
encourages multiculturalism in the
work place.
But what is multiculturalism?
It is not about appreciating the
cultures of other people. It is the
assault on our traditional American
culture and the lifestyle of middle
America.
We traditionalists will not give
up easily. The culture war will
continue.
But this war can only go on for
so long. There will be a winner and
a loser. Someone’s values will
prevail.
The people of this state, and of
this country, are, in general, good
people. It is a small minority who
have started this cultural battle. The
good majority — those who retain
America’s traditional values — will
finish it.
We will begin here, at college,
during the years they tell us are the
best of our lives. All we have to do
is remember who we are.
Karl is a junior news-editorial and po
litical science major, and a Daily Nebraskan
columnist and staff reporter.
Curse computypes for craze
The emperor has new clothes.
But you can see them only if you
stare really hard and kind of cross
your eyes. Then all of a sudden,
they jump out at you in 3-D.
Yes, I am referring to the glut of
3-D products that have become all
the rage lately.
At first glance, they look like a
bunch of computerized nothings.
Swirls of colors. Digitized patterns.
But when you look harder ... you
still see a bunch of nothings, but
now you have a headache.
That’s the way it works for me,
. anyway. I’m told that you’re
supposed to see neat 3-D images
like spaceships and dogs — maybe
a dolphin or two.
But even if you are blessed with
the power to see the 3-D image,
why would you want to? A lousy
spaceship isn’t much reward for 15
minutes of staring.
I like to keep up with fads — it
makes me feel young — so I bought
an overpriced 3-D image notebook,
cleverly called “Opti-cool Illu
sions.”
I’m supposed to see a lamb in
my notebook. I don’t.
As a matter of fact, I have never
met anyone who has seen a 3-D
image — no one I respect anyway.
The only people who claim to
have seen the hidden picture are
small children and shifty, beady
eyed people whom I already
distrust.
I don’t even know how the
. images are supposed to work. What
sort of voodoo printing process
hides pictures in another dimen
sion? I look at my notebook and
there is no picture there. Nothing.
How does a picture arrive there?
The problem here goes much
deeper than goofy fads and tricky
At first glance, they look like a
bunch of computerized nothings.
Swirls of colors. Digitized patterns.
But when you look harder... you
still see a bunch of nothings, but
now you have a headache.
printing. The problem here is “Star
Trek” and the whole sci-fi mind-set
that stereotypical ly affects smarty
pants computer types.
I say “stereotypically” because I
suppose it’s just a stereotype that
says people who understand
computers are Trekkie nerds. But
why do stereotypes exist?
Because they’re true.
Anyway, these computypes
watch one too many episodes of
“Deep Space Nine,” and then all of
a sudden they’ve got all of America
staring at swirly shapes looking for
spaceships.
While meanwhile they are up to
fiendish smart-people dirty tricks,
no doubt.
“Look, a spaceship! Monkeys
always look.”
What’s worse, these people are
slowly seizing control of society.
I’ve seen the AT&T commercials.
“Have you ever eaten a meal in
France without leaving your home
in Cleveland? You will. Have you
ever destroyed a Third World
nation from your bedroom? You
will.”
If they can use computers to hide
spaceships and dolphins in another
dimension, what else can they hide?
Your home, your loved ones,
your checking account.
“Your money is there, Ms.
Rowell. Just look harder. Cross
your eyes a little.”
Now, you say, isn’t the connec
tion between optical illusions and
“Star Trek” a bit tenuous? A bit
reactionary? A bit silly?
But the connection is there. Just
look harder. Loosen your focus.
There... you see?
Besides, when you’re paranoid
and feeling inadequate, who can
you blame if not “Star Trek”
fanatics? They generally have fine
senses of humor, and they’re not
very dangerous. What can they do,
curse at you in Klingon?
“blpvHa’Iaw’ Rainbow!” (which
means: “You seem unhealthy,
Rainbow” or something like that.
My Klingon is a bit rusty.)
My technophobia and
futureshock aside, I will never try
to figure out another tricky 3-D
picture again.
No whiny mall salesman will
convince me to look harder or lose
focus. I’m not crossing my eyes just
to look cool — they might stay that
way.
And then how cool will I look?
Rowell It a senior newt-editorial, adver
tising and English major and a Daily Nebras
ka a associate newt editor.
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\
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at Gateway Mall, 464-1910
_
