Unbearable
Congress ’ lust for assault weapons sickens
I will never own an electric can
opener.
I have a great jackknife that not
only works its way around a can of
soup, but also pushes those nifty
triangular openings in Hi-C Punch
cans, among other things. And a
hand-held can opener costs about
four bucks. Dandy gizmo for the
price, really.
1 will never own an electric mixer.
I stir cookies by hand. I’m no
Betty Crocker, admittedly, but I get
the job done with just a little extra
muscle.
There’s a glorious sense of
accomplishment I get from using my
hands to perform a task that manu
facturers would have me believe I’m
not capable of doing without an
electric gadget.
It’s a small matter, really. But I
just don’t believe in buying things
manufacturers make that create a
false need.
I will never own an AK-47.
I guess my needs are simpler than
most folks because I just can’t
imagine what I would do with an
assault weapon.
I suppose the next time I locked
my keys in my car, it’d be quicker to
blast the lock open than to wait for
Joe Locksmith.
If I were an avid gamesman, I
suppose I could shoot myself one
heck of a moose with a super
powered, heavy-duty weapon.
Of course, I’d have to find a
moose. That would mean a trip to the
Boundary Waters of Minnesota. And
I’m not sure what I’d do, as a
vegetarian, with the beast’s pulver
ized meat.
I suppose if I feared perpetrators,
I might find some solace in a brute
of a gun. Who has time to take a self
defense class or install an extra
deadbolt?
I’m not sure it’d fit in my hand
bag, however. And it’d be a burden to
carry the bulk, of an AK-47 and its
attachments with me at all times.
If I were paranoid enough, I
might carry the gun everywhere. To
the dry cleaners, the movies, the
Kelly Johnson
7 guess my needs are
simpler than most folks
because I just can’t
imagine what I would
do with an assault
weapon. ”
market. I suppose I’d be anticipating
some random act of violence in the
deli section. It’s an area I don’t
frequent, you know, so one never
knows What might be lurking there.
Right now, I couldn’t legally
carry an AK-47, even if I wanted to.
They were banned in America two
years ago.
The GOP majority in the House
has a motto. “Promises made,
promises kept.”
What kind of promises did these
politicians make? And to whom?
House GOP Leader Dick Armey
of Texas said that members who ran
on the gun issue in 1994 wanted
voters to know they kept their word.
Read: Voters = National Rifle
Association.
So AK-47s and the like could be
legalized soon — if the $3.5 million
in political contributions the NRA
has made in recent years works its
charm in the Senate.
So, if Newt can get his cronies in
the Senate to play along, each of us
should be able to purchase a whole
array of assault-style rapid-fire
weapons in the near future.
The list includes: TEC-DC9,
Steyr AUG, UZI, Beretta AR-70,
Street Sweeper, Striker 12, M-l 1/12
and Fabrique Nationale FNC.
Politicians aren’t the only ones
who make promises.
When parents bring a child into
the world, they make a promise,
barring life’s strange quirks, to give
that child a future.
Is it more likely that these guns
will enhance a child’s future or
eliminate it?
Society provides its own answer.
A man, best described as a
monster, killed 16 beautiful,
innocent children in Scotland last
week. Thomas Hamilton, a.k.a. Mr.
Creepy, walked into a Dunblane
elementary school with four guns
and committed a round of heartless,
heinous murders.
Tragically, the only defense
available to those 5- and 6-year-old
children was their small legs. And as
their only means of escape carried
them away from terror, Mr. Creepy
picked them off, one by one. With
his 9mm semiautomatic pistol.
Imagine if Mr. Creepy had had a
really big gun.
During the House debate. Rep.
Gerald Solomon, R-N.Y., said, “My
wife lives alone five days a week in
a rural area in upstate New York. She
has a right to defend herself when
I’m not there.’’
Americans still have the right to
bear arms. Mr. Creepy’s weapon of
choice can be had, legally, here in
the United States. Certainly, Mrs.
Solomon could find a gun on the
market to defend herself with — she
doesn’t need an assault weapon.
And so I have two questions.
Why would I need an assault
weapon? Why would anyone need
an assault weapon?
I don’t need an electric can
opener or mixer. I don’t need an
AK-47. And I don’t need politicians,
a.k.a. manufacturers of fear, who’d
have me believe I need any of these.
Johnson Is a senior news-editorial and
English major and a Dally Nebraskan col
nmnist
Help wanted
The jobless get nervous as graduation nears
i wain u jwu.
It is that simple. I don’t care what
it is. Sales, financial, leg breaking —
it doesn’t matter to me. I’m not picky
when it comes to money. I only want
enough to live. I work cheap. There
has got to be a job out there with my
name on it.
For the last month and a half, I
have been sending out resume after
resume. In all, I have sent out about
50. In the last couple of weeks, I
have had three interviews. All have
been productive. In feet, l am a lot
more positive about the whole
experience because the interviews
have gone so well. I have received
only a couple of flat out rejection
letters. Everyone I know says I
should keep my head up, that I am
doing well.
I, on the other hand, would rather
someone make me sit through
physiology again than continue the
process. It’s driving me nuts.
A long time ago, I actually
thought I would just go ahead and
stay in school. I thought, hey, the
academic world lodes pretty gnarly.
My professors look as if they arc
having fun lecturing, grading papers,
holding class out by the Greenspace
on a warm spring day. You get to
work when you want, and you get a
cramped, moldy office to do the
work in. Who wouldn’t want to be a
professor?
Then I started looking into the
whole process. Of course, therein
lies the problem. No one is really
sure how the process works. I went
to office after office, asking secretar
ies, professors and counselors how to
go about getting started. I consulted
books, looked in journals, even
asked the Magic Eight Ball what to
do.
Jody Burfw
“Most of the adults I
have met have jobs,
except professors arid
politicians. ”
No one had a clue.
Finally, someone mentioned that I
should take whatever professional
tests I need to get into whatever
programs I would be applying to.
So I took the GRE and was
humiliated beyond belief when the
results came back. The worst of it is
that the monkey that takes the test
every year and picks his answers at
random scored better than I did.
So I thought to myself, I know.
I’ll get a job. Everyone I know has
one. Most of the adults I have met
have jobs, except professors and
politicians. Corporate America must
have a position for a real go-getter
like me. Dammit, I was involved on
this campus.
Which leads me to the present
state of my problem. It all kind of
reminds me of the John Cusack line
in “Say Anything,” where he is
telling the girl’s father that he
UUCM1 l•Walll IU IIlUKt UliyUUUg
bought or sold and so on. I have no
idea what I want to do, or where I
want to do it. Here, or in Denver?
Chicago? Bora Bora?
There has got to be a better way.
Maybe all of the people who need a
job could get together in an arena
with all of the companies who need
to hire someone. Rather than the
runaround we get at job fairs and
then the eventual interviewing, the
employers could take a look at all of
the candidates at once and hire the
ones who aren’t wearing ties with
shamrocks on them or otherwise
don’t look too inept. The prospective
employees could walk around and
say:
“Hi. I’m desperate. I have little
experience besides retail sales. I
regularly would show up late for
class, if I went at all, and the only
real thing I learned at the university
was how to skim the paper for the
best beer sales.”
The prospective employers then
could ask some of their astute
questions like “So why are you
applying?”; “Your resume says you
arc graduating in May, is that true?”
or “Do navy and black clash or
match?” \
At the end, everybody could
match up and be happy. It would be
like a gigantic singles bar. Instead of
trolling for love, you’d be trolling for
dollars. Seems to me as if there
aren’t any major events going on for
a while at the Devaney Center. We
could just do it there.
All I know is I am getting really
desperate, and if I am not careful, I
might try my hand in the U.S.
Marine Corps.
Bnrke b a senior English major and a
Dally Nebraskan colnmnlst
Student fondly recalls
things missed, learned
Editor’s note: This column Is the final
Installment In Panla Lavigne’s “Letters
from Dublin” series.
I shook a handful of quarters
this morning. They seemed
lighter, like pieces of scrap metal
or play money. The last time I
used American currency was to
buy a newspaper in the Atlanta
airport in early January. It seems
very foreign to me now.
I came upon the quarters while
looking for my passport. I’m
going to London and Paris for
three weeks. When I come back.
I’ll have a week in Dublin before
I come home. I’ve gone past the
point of being a tourist. Techni
cally, I’m a legal alien. I’ve
worked here and lived here for
long enough to feel like I’m
almost part of the system. I’ve
been here long enough to sum up
what I’ve missed, what I’ll miss
and what I’ve learned.
I never allowed myself to get
homesick, but I missed the
familiarity of home. My friends,
family and dog were obvious
things I missed, but I kept in
touch (well, my dog might not
know who 1 am anymore). On top
of that, I am sick of not being able
to jump in the car and take off I
can’t wait to get back in the
driver’s seat again, as long as I
remember which side to get in on.
I also miss spending evening
hours on one mug of coffee at the
Mill, and I miss spending the
early morning hours on six cups
of horrible coffee at Perkins. And,
although I enjoyed the food here,
there were things you couldn’t
get, such as TCBY yogurt, Vic’s
Popcorn and Dr. Pepper (after
three bottles a day, that was hard
going cold turkey).
Instead of making pancakes in
the morning with my roommate, I
had to switch to scones and tea
(although I never got used to
putting milk in it).
I fell out of step with univer
sity life. I kind of missed going to
classes, dodging shuttle buses and
hanging out in the basement of
the student union. Heck, I even
missed the NU Board of Regents.
On the flipside, there are
things I’ll miss from Ireland.
They’re less specific, though.
Although I missed the familiarity
of home. I’ll miss having every
week be a new adventure. I’ll
miss the challenge of learning
new customs. I’ll miss being
Paula Lavlgne
"I've been here long
enough to sum up
ivhat I’ve missed, what
I’ll miss and what I’ve
learned. ”
unique (although, in Ireland,
being a tourist is hardly unique).
I’ll miss being in a smaller
country where there’s more
emphasis on international events,
and I’ll miss being so close to
Northern Ireland and the debates
that go with it.
Of course. I’ll miss my friends
here, and I’ll miss the “Cat of
Trinity College” even if he tried
to bite my arm off.
But even when I go and leave
all these things behind, I’ll take
with me what I’ve learned.
Things are much the same
here, but the pace of life is a bit
slower. The American influence is
great, but they won’t let it take
over. America is recognized as a
superpower, and I’ve realized that
because of that, people here know
more about America than people
in America know about Europe.
On that note, I’ve learned that
it is important to think globally
and not nationally. We are
confined by a nation, but we live
in a world. We have to face up to
that or suffer out of ignorance.
I’ve learned a lot about
acceptance, and how people are
willing to welcome you into their
way of life and have confidence
that you can assimilate.
I’ve learned that the lessons
vary from place to place, and that
universal truths are rare.
So there. That’s the summation
of one of the greatest experiences
of my life, and I hope that any of
you who have the chance to go to
a different country take it.
Grab your passport, Visa card,
and comfortable shoes; kiss Mom
goodbye and hit the road. Do it
while you’re young, and do it in
the summer.
As for me, I’m nearing the end
of my road. And when I get to it.
I’m going to drive on the right
side.
Lavlgne is a Jvalor news-editorial
major and a Dally Nebraskan contrtbvt
Ivg coivmnist.
, .He will cane %m\ in obey
tojudg^ the llV/ngand the
dead and his Kifgdom will
. have no end...
HOLD YER HORSES)
HWS Ml gonna
hiHGE on whether
THE VOLUNTEERS
ASK ME TO t.
