How Fishpond went dry
Electoral Commission drowns unconventional party’s hopes
Had there ever been a more quali
fied candidate for ASUN?
He is in his fourth year as a mem
ber and is currently vice president of
the Lincoln Fantasy and Science
Fiction Club. He is the secretary for
the UNL Anime Club, which now
has 15 or so regulars. Most impor
tantly, he has earned his white belt in
the Shotokan Karate Club. He
would’ve been a candidate who liter
ally could’ve kicked ass.
His name is Josh Hesse, and he is
a senior electrical engineering major.
He was the executive director and
would-be presidential candidate of
the now-defunct Fishpond party, and
it will be a much duller campaign
without his participating iq it.
Impact, Empower, Focus, Vision,
blah, blah, blah. Fishpond was mem
orable.
I wasn’t sure how serious Josh
and Fishpond were about the election
until I spoke to Josh on the phone
just after the party had bowed out. He
was a bitter qian, left with a bad taste
in his mouth from how the Electoral
Commission had treated him. We’ll
get to the injustice later, but for now,
let’s think about what could’ve been.
When you’re a serious journalist
like myself, you are hungry to talk
about issues. When I got Josh on the
phone I was eager to ask him the
question that had the campus holding
its breath: What kind of Fish was he
planning on putting into Broyhill
Fountain should he be elected?
The answer he gave was that this
was a technical aspect that UNL
groundskeepers would know best. He
would leave that to them, but as an
It s discouraging to me that a political
outsider met with such resistance when
he tried to take a grassroots approach
to the campaign.
executive officer, he would prefer to
see some species of goldfish.
“How refreshing,” I thought.
Finally there was a candidate who
would delegate authority to those
who knew best, but who wasn’t
afraid to share his opinions on the hot
issues of the day.
So what went wrong?
It’s simply stated on page 15 of
the 27-page “Rules of
the ASUN Electoral
Commission”
handbook:
shirts and all materials posted or dis
played in connection with this elec
tion must indicate that they relate to
the ASUN Student Government
Elections.”
Fishpond made the fatal mis
take of putting “ASUN
Elections” instead of
the redundant
“ASUN Student Government
Elections” on its posters. Because
this error would obviously damage
the integrity of the election, the
Electoral Commission, on a 3-2 vote
each time, voted to raise the fine to
$20 and then voted to fine Fishpond.
Fishpond had invested $1.36 into
the campaign so far, so the fine was
15 times more than it had spent on
the whole election. Meanwhile, one
of the “generic,” as Hesse calls them,
parties named Impact had been fined
__ $20 for leaving the
L X, dateoffitscam
^ X naipn mater
Impact spent $90 originally on the
material, paid the fine and spent
another $90 to replace the illegal
material.
Hesse can’t understand how a
party that would most likely spend
more than $1,000 that had about 30
members could be fined the same
amount as a party with 3 members
intending to spend no more than $15.
According to Hesse, Empower
presidential candidate Heath Mello
turned Fishpond in to the
Commission for the violations and
took issue with the wording on the
Fishpond material at the hearing.
Hesse wanted Mello to know that
“actions speak louder than words.” I
find it ironic that a candidate running
for the Empower party wouldn’t wel
come the input of students who don’t
usually participate in student govern
ment.
With the appeals process too
complicated, and the $20 fine too
much to handle, Fishpond ended its
campaign. Don’t write in Josh Hesse
for president either: if he gets enough
write-in votes he has to fill out a cer
tain number of forms by a certain
time on election day for the vote to
be valid. While he hasn’t formally
endorsed either of the two “non
generic” parties, A-Team or Duff, he
does support their missions.
It’s discouraging to me that a
SX political outsider met with such
\ resistance when he tried to take
\ a grassroots approach to the
campaign. Alter hearing ot
)■ the trouble Fishpond had try
ing to participate in student
government, I was
inspired to get my own
referendum on the ballot
in March.
I propose the student
government name be
changed to the
Association of Nebraska
University Students, or
ANUS.
Tony Bock is a junior broadcasting major and a Daily Nebraskan columnist.
Food, folks and fun
Centrally-located student hangout gives sweet little taste of the nightlife
I have often imagined a home
away from home (home being a
place where my lovely parents
dwell), in which I can live a life of
comfort and peace, a place that
provides food, shelter, a tyathroom
and a disco ball.
I have been searching for this
oasis in the desert of loneliness for
four years, and I think I’ve finally
found it.
At this ethereal joint I slurp the
sacred drink and inhale the divine
bread.
I do not gorge myself, as gorg
ing tends to produce indigestion.
I sit at the mighty pew and read
the holy word till I can’t see any
more, as reading the holy words
can lead to blindness.
If you don’t catch my hidden
meaning in all these religious
metaphors, I’m merely talking
about the best restaurant in
Lincoln, which I now call home.
Folks, this place is the Village
Inn on 29th and O streets.
The VI, as it is commonly
referred to by cool people, con
I know I enjoy eating a burger and
listening to Lana speak of how her cat
got a hold of her eight ball of crack,
ate the contents and didnjt sleep for
five days.
tains all the necessities of life -
with the exception of ladies of the
night and liquor.
The VI has a certain dingy
charm I have not found anywhere
else, except on my toilet. It is not
only a joint to watch the crazies
roam on a Sunday afternoon, but
it’s a place for families to dine at
one o’clock in the mbrning if they
would like and often do.
I have grown attached to the
friendly faces of the people who
work there, and I delight in seeing
the patrons with day-to-day regu
larity.
Wendy the waitress and John
the manager are as close to
parental perfection as I could ever
conjure up in my feeble imagina
tion, and Gaila follows close
behind as the really cool aunt.
These folks let me rent out
space in the restaurant in one of
the booths (fairly cheap), and I get
to roam around my new home as
long as I have something covering
my nakedness when I wake in the
mornings.
How can I protest at such a
setup? Not only is it the center of
Lincoln, but the VI offers the best
coffee in this hemisphere.
No foolin’.
The Vi’s coffee’s richness is
unsurpassed, even by any supreme
coffee shop that claims to slow
roast its hand-picked espresso
beans after hours of percolation in
rain water until the thick, brown
liquid intrudes your every pore
after consumption.
The Vi’s coffee-making plan is
far more simple.
They just rip open a bag of
their finest instant coffee, put the
filter in the ancient coffee holder
and let it drizzle into the pot, and
one is never quite sure if that pot is
clean. It doesn’t matter if it’s
clean, because it’s good, and we
don’t ask questions if everything
tastes fine.
And do you want to know
another obvious perk to this new
found heaven on earth?
The VI pie princess.
• If she doesn’t ask you for a
delicious slice of goodness when
you order, then you get it for free.
The only time I’ve tricked
(drugged) the waitress into forget
ting to offer me a slice, I was too
full from the coffee to partake in
the free food op.
Perhaps the most delightful
time for any college student who
needs to cram like a clam and be
easily distracted by the patrons’
shenanigans is in the evening after
11.
I have heard a great many con
versations in that joint. Many of
the patrons mistake the VI for a
bar and act in the appropriately
inappropriate manner.
For instance, there was a booth
occupied with three voluptuous
women. A man from across the
restaurant yelled out in a loud cry,
“Hey, ladies! Can I come over and
have a menage a trois with you?”
Yes, he had tact, but no, he had
no math skills. There were four
people present, not three.
My roommate, Naomi, and I
noticed this indecent conversation
but took it with an air of normality.
The next conversation^ heard
was one concerning the removal of
body parts. To paraphrase this
lady, she said she was going to the
doctor to “have my thumbs
removed, (pause) I mean my
thumbnails.”
Thank the lord.
If you don’t think I’m serious
about my affinity for the VI, then
you are not a student, but an evil
Russian alien.
If you are student, the VI is a
great place to go and get your stuff
done, and you can stay as long as
you’d like. (Until 2 a.m. - then
you’re forced to pay rent.)
The beauty of the VI is in the
eye of the beholder, and I behold
that the people who frequent the
joint live their lives to the fullest
and smoke like chimneys doing it.
*'* You will not deal with snotty
waitresses or bad service. These
things simply don’t exist at the VI,
where your every wish is someone
else’s command.
I know I enjoy eating a burger
and listening to Lana speak of how
her cat got a hold of her eight ball
of crack, ate the contents and did
n’t sleep for five days.
Or, I rather enjoy slurping on a
milkshake and watching Lester’s
Dancing Santa toy that he just had
to bring into the restaurant and
play for the customers. He was
overjoyed that his purchase cost
him “only one dollar,” and it was
worth every penny.
If any of you would like to join
me as a roommate at the VI, there
are plenty of booths available. It
gets a little old having to bathe in
the sink, but being able to raid a
fridge that has nothing but whip
cream and cheesecake ain’t all that
bad.
Karen Brown is a senior English and film studies major and a Daily Nebraskan columnist