In with the new
1996 promises new surprises v adventures f
i Know u s uiiucuu 10 iruuge
through this first week of classes.
Frankly, I don’t think anyone
would blame you if you suddenly
“lost it” and began striking people
i n the union with neroquetraallet .
-144ho-pressure .seems too much*
try to remember all Jhe good ;
things of 1995, and what is to
come in ’96.
For me, this past year was
perhaps one of the best ever. Sure,
it was not without its pitfalls, but
what period of life is?
I failed oberrtistry for the — thif
is not a typo — third time in a
row, but wisely, I expected the
inevitable and didn’t really upset
anybody.
i he wonaerrul news is that 1
finally did well enough in my
other classes to obtain a 2.5
cumulative average. This ulti
mately means I can finally got into
the journlism coLagge.
I have waited an entire year to
reach this pinnacle, and now, I can
finally fulfill my dreams of failing
courses in my major.
Another happening, which
could be seen as good or bad
depending on whether or not you
are me, involved my love life.
I attempted to ignite a fire with
an old flame by writing her a love
letter. She has yet to respond,
which I can only assume means
she is no longer a heterosexual.
At least that is what I’m telling
my friends. All things considered,'
it was for the best. I was able to
say some things that have been on
my mind since the day we broke
up.
She also taught me the invalu
able lesson of never “losing it”
and striking people in her apart
ment complex with a croquet
mallet.
Steve Willey
“Remember, only you
have the potential to
make them date the
same sex. ”
And the best news of 1995? I
gained only 42 pounds. That
happens to be my lowest total
since the year after my birth. With
any luck, I will defy all doctors’
predictions and never reach my
leveling weight of 961 pounds.
1995 was not just a glorious
year for me, but for the state of
Nebraska as well. Nebraska
defeated Florida in the Fiesta
Bowl to lay its claim to a second
consecutive national title.
Last year, when we won the
championship, I was in Missis
sippi. I spent a good portion of
that evening rejoicing in my front
yard, clad only in (Please STOP
reading if revolting thoughts
disgust you -ED) tighty-whities
and red socks.
This year, however, I was
blessed enough to be able to enjoy
the game in a downtown Lincoln
bar. You have NOT lived until you
have danced with a thousand
people on u street. £ ^ v .
Can any of you think of another
event that causes grown, shirtless
men to jump around and repeat
edly grope each other?
(By the way, we really should
do this more often. The next time a
professor returns a test, regardless
of the grade, take your shirt off
and grope them.)
Even with extremely unex
pected news, you wouldn’t get
those kinds of results. I should
know. I conducted an experiment
of my own to prove this theory.
I approached one of the “regu
lars” in the union and threw him a
shocker.
Hey buddy, I whispered. Did
ya read the papers? Hillary Clinton
is really a 51-year-old black man!”
He slapped my hands a couple
of times and began chanting “U-S
A”, but at no time did he remove
his shirt and attempt to hug me.
Oddly, he did mention several
times that he would like to remove
his “drawers” but couldn’t because
“Governor Nelson is watching.”
1995 was a wonderful year, and
I have no reason to believe ’96
will be any different.
Do your part to make it great.
Realize your dreams, and start
failing the necessary courses.
Write that “one” love and tell her
how you feel.
Remember, only you have the
potential to make them date the
same sex.
And yes, even your professors
long for the occasional grope.
If 1996 is anything close to
what 1995 was, it should be a
magical year.
Willey Is a junior ag-Journallstn ma
jor and a Dally Nebraskan columnist.'
Fresh
Jl: lr- *!-••... ; .
New Year’s resolutions are overrated
This Monday, surprisingly there
were many busy people at Selleck’s
computer lab, considering that after
the first day of the semester, hardly
anyone should have homework to
do.
Lines were huge in both book
stores and every Stairmastcr at the
rec center was occupied. At the
cafeteria, vegetables and skim milk
were clearly more popular than they
were before the Christmas break.
What was going on?
Thousands of people were
starting a new semester and, more
importantly, a new life.
Beginnings are fun, and so is the
concept of new life. That’s why the
academic year is so much better
than the calendar year. The aca
demic year gives us two possibilities
to start all over again.
I had a good time on New Year’s
Eve. There were 10 or 12 of us
together, feeling so happy forgetting
everything that was unpleasant or
unsatisfying about last year and
looking forward to a new start.
Our resolutions were typical, to
say the least. All women were
determined to lose weight, and those
of us who smoked promised to quit.
In addition, we agreed to study/work
hard, vacuum our apartments at least
once a week, and be kind to our
boy/girl friends.
There was, however, one
exception — one person whose only
resolution was to “examine the
geography of Northern Europe,
including Lapland and the Faeroe
Islands.” I admired and envied this
person and his indisputable peace of
mind. To me, it seemed that he had
realized something valuable and
important, something that I have
always suspected but never been
able to admit to myself before.
Through his resolution, it finally
became crystal clear: New lives are
useless and dangerous.
Now I have that knowledge, but
does it affect me? I doubt it. I can’t
help taking good notes and keeping
up the required course readings
Veera Suplnen
By the end of the
semester, there will be
thousands of miserable
and disappointed
students who, in the
middle of their finals,
can't concentrate on
anything but feeling
guilty.
during the next couple of weeks.
And yes, I also go to the gym, wash
dishes after each meal, write to my
friends regularly, use contacts no
more than eight hours a day and
watch the TV considerably less than
I did a month ago.
But how long is this going to last?
Not until February is my best
guess, and I’ll be glad when my new
life is over.
Who has ever heard of a success
ful new life? I haven’t, and that’s
why wish I could ignore the whole
thing. It’s hard to pretend to be
better than you are, even for a while.
New beginnings consume too much
energy and make people tired and
angry. They blame themselves for
not succeeding with their new lives
and make weak promises to start it
all over again come fall semester.
Summer gives them barely enough
time to recover from self-hatred.
A friend of mine is now stuck in
New York and extremely upset
because the recent snowstorm may
prevent him from attending the first
week’s classes. His teachers are not
going to drop him from courses and
he probably won’t miss anything
indispensable. But he feels that the
storm spoiled his new life that was
supposed to start on Monday.
Another friend of mine has
decided to work out four times a
week, starting, of course, on
Monday. Unfortunately she caught a
cold during the weekend and was
forced to postpone her plans. Now
she’s having serious doubts whether
to go at all. And guess why —
because she couldn’t start on
Monday.
Why do we feel it is now or
never? Why do we feel that if we
fail this time, the next chance
doesn’t come until August? Why do
we feel that if we eat chocolate just
once, we have to give up the whole
diet? What is it that makes it so
much easier to start a new life on
Mondays instead of Tuesdays?
The idea of new life is dangerous
because it makes us believe that it is
not better late than never. It makes
us feel that our life and well-being
depend on the time of the year,
month or week, and that we can’t
control and improve them except on
those random dales.
This semester lasts for 17 weeks,
which is a terribly long time.
Nobody should start it in a sprint.
We should pace ourselves. It’s too
bad we’re not taught to take it easy
while we still have energy. Half of
this energy will be wasted during the
first month’s brave start, the rest
will go with our self-respect when
we notice that we haven’t reached
our unachievable goals. That’s the
problem with Protestant ethics and
women’s magazines’ irresponsible
fitness issues.
By the end of the semester, there
will be thousands of miserable and
disappointed students who, in the
middle of their finals, can’t concen
trate on anything but feeling guilty.
This semester, I’ll refuse to feel
guilty every time I’m not doing
something I think I should. I suggest
you try the same. Get out of the
libraries and go to the movies. Be
perfect slackers for a while.
You’ll thank yourselves in May.
Supinen, a visiting student from Fin
land, Is a history major and a Daily Nebras
kan columnist.
Calvin and Hobbes
get a fond farewell
It!s taken a couple of days, but
reality has finally grabbed a hold
of me. No more Calvin and
Hobbes in the paper. Ever. Never
again. Kaput. Good-bye and so
long. My life, and I suspect the
lives of many others, have slightly
less meaning this new year.
No longer will I be able to
gaze into the Transmogrifier,
spend an afternoon with the
G.R.O.S.S. (Get Rid Of Slimy
firlS) club, or be dazzled with
paceman Spiffs intergalactic
feats. No, a little bit of magic was
taken from our lives when Bill
Wattcrson published his last piece
on December 31st.
Now, I understand that in the
grand design, this isn’t the worst
thing that has happened. When
you think about the state of the
world, the departure of Calvin is
small potatoes. Regardless, I still
wish I wouldn’t have lost him. I
turned to Calvin and Hobbes
every day. Even though it’s funny
to say, they were like friends.
They made me laugh. When the
strip was really good, it made me
think. For a comic, it covered a
lot of important issues, ranging
from death to the environment,
but was never preachy. Above all,
though, it was fun. Sometimes, I
thought it was the only worth
while thing in the paper.
Even though the end of Calvin
bothers me, I do admire
Watterson. He left while his work
was on top. He didn’t stick
around and put out a sub-par
product just because of demand,
like so many artists/performers do
these days. I mean, do we really
need another Ernest movie?
That guy should have done us
all a favor and let it go when we
all thought he was just that “Hey
Vern” guy on the dairy commer
cials.
Watterson didn’t bore us with
tirades about every cause that
came down the path. He used his
miniature soap box, a 6-year-old
named Calvin, to make small but
important points about our daily
lives. He used a wonderful
imaginary tiger to entertain us and
to make us laugh at the simplicity
of it all, thus bringing some fun
to us each day.
He also knew when it was time
to hang up the pen and move on.
It’s a bummer, but that is a
necessity in life. The only
constant we can count on is
change.
I guess I have tried to look at it
from his point of view. Just
imagine how hard it would be to
come up with fresh, funny ideas
every day. I can barely pick
research paper topics most days.
A perfect example of what
could have happened if he would
have kept going is Berke
Breathed and Bloom County. He
got rid of the more interesting
characters, renamed it and said
boom!, it’s different. The only
■
JodyBuffce
"Even though the end
of Calvin bothers me, I
do admire Watterson.
He left while his work
was on top. He didn't
stick around and put
out a sub-par product
just because of
demand, like so many
artists/performers do
these days. I mean, do
we really need another
Ernest movie?"
problem is that Outland isn’t any
different from its predecessor. It
is just a newer, lesser version.
I guess I don’t understand
some people’s fascination with
continuity. What is the problem
with only having one movie, or
book? Why do we have to see
good ideas beat to death before
we let them go? Do we really
need another Star Trek or Freddy
movie? It isn’t like the sequels
have really developed anything
new. I certainly don’t see a whole
lot of character development
going on. Is the only reason to
keep an idea alive because we can
make a lot of dough?
American society is obsessed
with continuity. We are scared to
let our idols and heroes go, as if
having them around forever will
increase the quality of our lives.
A perfect example of this is the
Deadhead who could barely make
it when Jerry Garcia died. I’ll
miss Jerry too, but life goes on.
I’m not happy about it, but those
are the rules.
In a way, I’m glad Bill
Watterson ended it when he did. I
would rather have a fond recol
lection of his work than a
negative one. I can’t see Calvin as
a 20-year-old, hanging out with
his stuffed tiger. It would tend to _
lose some of its charm. That’s
why it needed to end. The idea
had run its course. There was
nowhere left for Calvin to go. The
strip said all it could, and so it
made a graceful exit.
Burke is a senior English major
and a Daily Nebraskan columnist.
BE OUR GUEST
The Daily Nebraskan will present a guest columnist each Monday.
Writers from the university and community are welcome.
Contact Doug Peters c/o the Daily Nebraskan, 34 Nebraska Union,
1400 R St., Lincoln, NE 68588, or by phone at (402) 472-1782.
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