Remembering yester
Generation X*s battle should be not to forget heritage
One hundred and thirty-six years
ago, a eouple hundred thousand guys
got together for a mammoth concert
in a big field near the little town of
Gettysburg, Pa., and it was for war
and death.
They called it a battle, but they
had these cool cannons like Peter
Frampton. But instead of inflatable
farm animals, they shot these things
called shells that made a wah-wah
noise, later to be reintroduced in
singing and on the guitar 100 years
later.
Some of these 19th-century con
cert-goers, the ones dressed in gray,
even sang along to the beat and har
mony oT the explosions in a high
falsettoTThey called it the RebelYell,"
and it was all the rage, frightening
parents and even some of the other
members of the crowd, who were
dressed in blue.
Then, to close it all out, one guy
ended the whole thing in a blaze of
fire and noise and death.
When it was all over, it was
judged a horrible success by some, a
horrible failure by others-There was
a total of over 51,000-men killed,
wounded or missing after the three
—day binge.
The president of the United
States even came up to Gettysburg to
herald it as a new chapter in
American history. _
Soon the very mention of the
word Gettysburg would evoke strong
emotions from Americans who
would remember it as a great and ter
rible day.
* * *
Coasting forward to 30 years ago
- another concert, another big field,
this time in upstate New York, hun
dreds of thousands of people, explo
sions and flashes of light. They
called this thing Woodstock, and it
was for peace and love.
It scared parents and children anc
even some of the people who went to
it.
This time, another guy used all
his wah-wahs and the noise and the
screaming masses to close the con
cert. ~
Once again, some judged it a sue
cess, some a failure. Some were just
plain appalled at the destruction and
lack of decorum and respect for
authority that the concert-goers
declared as the benchmark of what
was indeed a new chapter in
American history.
* * * - - *
And now it is 1999.
And some interesting things have
happened. You can visit those places
at Gettysburg and Woodstock as
tourist attractions now.
Some people, for posterity’s sake
remember both events. Some
remember the historical context of
Gettysburg but forget or dismiss the
significance of Woodstock.
Some remember Woodstock and
forget Gettysburg.
Of course, even some people whc
were at Woodstock don’t remember
it so well. Maybe they can’t recall
learning about Gettysburg either.
Some people get dressed up in
blue and gray uniforms and re-enact
Gettysburg. Other people get nose
rings and tattoos and get naked and
try to re-enact Woodstock, which, as
1 we saw, turned out to be a most
unwise manner of remembrance.
However we choose to remembei
or forget, there will always be those
who dedicate themselves to the con
servation of memories and of the
actual physical realm in which his
■ toric events took place.
Such people are called preserva
tionists. Thank heavens for them.
Yeah, maybe they get a little
bunged up about the past, but hey,
that’s their life. They live in the past.
After all, somebody has to.
Last week, the preservationists
were working fast and furious to
keep up Civil War battlefields like
Gettysburg and other, smaller arenas
where the American tragedy was
played out. They usually are.
But this time, it was in reaction to
Secretary of the Interior Bruce
Babbitt’s statement that 1 acre of
Civil War battleground is lost every
10 minutes. It becomes a parking lot
or a supermarket or some other tem
ple to urban sprawl.
The preservationists are even get
ting together: the Civil War
Preservation Trust has merged with
► the Association for the Preservation
of Civil War Sites to form the first
mass conglomeration of such groups
of people who really care.
The fields at Gettysburg will last
long after I’m gone, thanks in part to
people who care about what the past
holds as much as who to bestow it
upon in the future.
And recently, Generation X has
tried to take on that role, specifically
with Woodstock. But as usual, we
mucked it up.
The problem with Generation X
is that we have no sense of history,
and nobody cares to get one. We’ll
forget Woodstock and turn it into a
wash of capitalist venture and fires
and riots, and pretty soon we’ll let
them pave right over Gettysburg.
Gen-X needs some preservation
ists, and we need them now, because
even as we grow into our role in the
world, the past continues to be our
heritage. You can’t scream it back
loud enough now: nobody cares.
Right now, in Seattle, they’re /
building a memorial to Jimi Hendrix.
It’ll probably get vandalized and fall
into disrepair, and everyone will say,
“What a horrible waste, but it’s not
my problem. I never even knew the
man.” And thus will the cycle be per
petuated.
But then again, maybe one per
son or two or three people will get
together and say, “What a shame.
Jimi was a legend, a true voice of the
late 20th century and beyond ...”
and that’s how preservation will get
started. Because the history of all
generations is important, as we have
learned in the preservation of Civil
War battlefields and remembrance
days for events gone by.
As much as Gettysburg,
Woodstock is an important part of
American people’s heritage. It may
be a long time before we ever realize
it, but it is our chance to bask in the
glow of other generations that
opened doors for us.
What Civil War preservationists
did last week, what Hendrix family
and fans are doing - it is imperative
that we recognize what they are striv
ing for.
Because someday, if we stop car
ing altogether, Gettysburg will be a
McDonald’s and a Safeway, and Max
Yasgur’s farm will be a high-rise
apartment building.
And we forget.
And then where do we progress?
* . .... . '
Adam Klinker is a junior English and history major and a Daily Nebraskan columnist
Cartoon violence
Sunday comics are nothing to be thankful for
11
Certainly this past holiday was a
time to give thanks. I think that’s why
they call it Thanksgiving and not,
like, Rockgiving, or Indiangiving,
which usually breaks friends rather
than makes them.
I’m thankful for my family, even
though I was glad I spent the holiday
without them. I have a nasty penchant
for wine and Trivial Pursuit that
would break my mother’s soul in two
if she saw my transformation from
sweet and innocent to fiery and dis
obedient.
(Katie Swoboda and Leatha
Swinehiart are dirty rotten cheats, and
I urge everyone never to speak to
them again -1 knew that crappy song
from “Ghost”, was “Unchained
Melody!*)
Forgive me.
Anyhow, I’m also thankful for
Holly and Amy, who have let me
come over the past couple of years
and partake in Amyls horrible cook
ing and Holly’s repellent company.
They’re great friends, however,
because they just smile and nod at my
unbridled enthusiasm for talking
about nothing.
This ability to talk about nothing
is a definite reflection of my low IQ,
but hey, it got me free turkey and
stuffing.
I’m also thankful for learning
from my friend Jenny that every sen
tence sounds much better when you
put the phrase “2000” after it in a
wispy voice.
For example, “I ate chicken pot
pie 2000.” Or, “I drive a clunker
2000.” Or, “I saw ‘Mystery Science
Theatre 2000.”’
One thing (or one band, I should
say) that is truly a gift from the heav
ens is Earth, Wind and Fire. Without
-its catchy lyrics and feisty melodies, I
would never have seen Corrina danc
ing on top of popcorn and shaking hei
rump.
And I’m thankful Jen accidentally
left my Christmas present under the
couch, so I can start to rebuild my
stolen CD collection.
With all this love and happy feel
ings floating around, there is one
thing that churns my stomach to no
end. I mean, this thing makes my
bowels clench up at the same momeni
that bile fills my nostrils.
I can honestly say I hate the
Sunday comics.
No foolin’. I hate all those creepy,
idiotic panels of moppishness that
incorrectly portray die misguided,
naive, sickening reflections of life.
Let’s start with “Luann” - the
blonde chick who keeps changing hei
hair.
This high school gal is nothing
but a retarded tramp.
Contrary to popular belief,
“Luann” is not God’s answer to high
school hell. In fact, her teen-age
“angst” and drizzle is mild compared
to what most high school students go
through..
The never-fiinny Luann is shallov
and, at best, a C student (which is
cause for praise in the cartoon when
she gets anything better than her
usual D).
“Zits” is another cartoon very
similar to “Luann.” In fact, it may be
even worse. Luann sometimes gets
her brother or family involved, and
they can be a real riot, but the main
high school punk in “Zits” is a Joke.
The two men who write this car
toon definitely know the science
behind gossip in school halls, but
somehow each week they forget the
most important aspect of real life -
mainly thoughts, feelings and actions
But hey, the fact that Chelsea told
Suzy to tell Bart to tell Lisa that “The
Simpsons” are on tonight at 5 sure
brings much laughter to people over
80 years old.
I just have a couple of words for
those of you who want to write comic
strips that involve pets as the main
character (i.e. “Marmaduke” and
“Garfield”) - actions do not speak
louder than words, especially when
your only actions are wagging your
tail and licking your crotch.
With “Marmaduke,” it’s a never
ending tale about whether it ’s OK to
sit on the furniture or not. Usually it’s
not, and this is funny only once,
maybe twice. Somehow, for like 15
years, this abomination has been get
ting valuable writing space.
It must be stopped.
As should “Cathy” and her inces
sant whining about how
fat she looks and how
her mother runs her life.
I’ve got a suggestion
for you, Cathy. Why
don’t you not hang out
with your stupid mother
if she bugs you so
much?
Or you could try
focus your reasoning
skills on things that
aren’t so frivolous, such
as how to put on clothes.
r If she would quit
being so selfish she
would realize that
everyone, man and
woman alike, is better
off without her around.
I must say the comic
strip that actually gags
me with a friggin’ spoon
is “The Family Circus.”
This is the biggest
waste of space known to
man, and I think even
those of you who are
extremely religious find
this family’s wacky
antics so unbearably
nonrealistic that you
can’t help but slobber on yourselves.
It’s not cute when Billy sees his
dead grandmother floating in his win
dow at night because Billy forgot to
say his prayers.
It’s just downright creepy.
What would be cute is if Bil
Keane (the creator) would realize that
believing in the existence of ghosts
can be detrimental to a 5-year-old’s
health and mental stability.
The only comics I have loved
have been “Calvin and Hobbes” and
“The Far Side.” I could relate to
Calvin, and I appreciated the humor
of “The Far Side.” They were true
classics.
Instead of comic space there
could be a nude picture section, or
perhaps a place to get the lowdown on
* how to build your own bomb out of
• • "'a- *n
household appliances.
Or, they could just fire all those
lame-ass writers who have been ,
around for 500 years and let the new
generation take over.
The writers of “Gasoline Alley,”
“Mary Worth,” “Blondie” and
“Dennis the Menace” need to be shot
up with morphine because they’re too
old to keep writing their crap.
I know that I will never let my
kids read the Sunday comics. It will
rot their brain and probably shut it off
for good.
I will encourage them to watch
TV or play Nintendo games instead.
At least these mind-altering forms of
fun are entertaining, unlike how
extremely dull it is when “Ziggy”
learns (literally) how to make a
mountain out of a molehill.
..... ——maattrnmmm