Opinion
Stumbling block
Bill policy forces ASUN
to start over year after year
As much as we would like to believe we are living in a
microcosm of society, at least one aspect of our life at
UNL is not parallel to reality.
And that’s the way our government is run.
Sure, we have a president, a couple vice presidents,
some senators, a committee or two and some advisory
boards. And they meet every week. That’s fine.
They do all of this to pass bills every year in an effort
to make changes for the students they represent.
Only one problem: The impact of these bills is limited.
In order for the proposals to have a lasting effect, the suc
ceeding senate must redraft, re-introduce and repass the
ideas.
It’s likely the bills may never see the light of day again
- the same bills different senators representing nearly the
same set of students passed the year before.
All bills will then die at the end of that senate’s term.
And the cycle will continue.
The only proposals that last are bylaw additions and
amendments, and that makes sense, but so does keeping
the bills and resolutions year after year.
The U.S. House of Representatives and the U.S. Senate
must repeal laws passed by preceding bodies. They aren’t
required to repass bills introduced by senators whose
terms ended. That would be silly.
Granted, Congress passes many, many more bills each
year than A SUN probably has in the last 10 years, but the
concept is still the same. Those senators’ work lasts.
In addition to allowing the bills to have a lasting
impact, changing the policy that bills die may increase
knowledge and discussion on the issues the bills tackle.
Instead of passing a bill that says the same thing as the
last one did senators could build upon the last year.
Senators could add to their efforts to support or oppose
those issues.
The present system allows senators to reaffirm their
commitment to issues every year - not allowing them to
seem apathetic. But a revived policy allowing the bills to
stand year after year would still leave room for the senate
to do that.
The senators always can pass a resolution stressing
their support for an issue. They could hold a forum or a
panel on an issue during a peak time in the union, showing
they want to hear students’ views on a topic. Or the senate
could always repeal the past bills.
Senators don’t need bills to speak out on issues. There
are other avenues. They need to build upon the work that
already has been done.
Otherwise, the student government as we know it will
remain at step one.
“X
Editorial Board
Josh Funk (editor) • J.J. Harder • Cliff Hicks • Samuel
McKewon • Dane Stickney • Kimberly Sweet • Lindsay
Young
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Obermeyer’s
VIEW
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My day as deity
What I did to the universe on my day in charge
I was starting to get very tired on
Tuesday night, the numbers on my
watch just a click or two away from
midnight. Generally by this point of
the evening, I’m trying to get to bed,
kicking myself for taking classes that
force me to be up by 7:30 a.m. five
days a week.
I started to stagger towards my
room, my Siamese cat following me.
Then the cat started to skitter away.
Normally, I wouldn’t have given this
a moment’s notice, as Marx is some
what insane, but then I realized why
he was running.
we make it a point not to leave
glowing balls of radiant white light
floating in the middle of our hallway,
but lo and behold, there one was.
My watch beeped midnight at
that exact moment.
“Greetings, Cliff Hicks, you have
been selected to be omnipotent
today,” the ball of light said to me, in
that tone of voice only a ball of light
can have.
I was dumbstruck for a moment,
before years of journalism training
kicked in.
“Excuse me, could you repeat
that?” I asked.
“You’re omnipotent today, so for
the next 24 hours, you have total and
complete control over the universe
and existence.”
There was a long bout of silence.
“Cool deal. What’s the catch?”
“Catch?” responded the ball of
light in a booming voice. “There is
no catch. In 24 hours, however, you
will be exactly as you were a few
moments ago.”
I nodded, mulling this over a
moment.
“Anything else I need to know?”
“That is all,” the voice said,
sounding smug. Then the ball of light
faded and was gone.
My cat scurried over to me and
started rubbing against my legs
defensively.
“Scared you, huh?” I asked him.
“You better believe it, bub,” the
cat responded. “Made me wish I had
my claws back, so I coulda whacked
that thing.” Leave it to me to subcon
sciously grant my cat the ability to
speak.
I yawned, then paused. I snapped
my fingers and suddenly I wasn’t
tired anymore. “This could be fun,” I
thought to myself. “Hey Groucho,
you want to go see the world?”
Marx looked up at me with those
unreadable blue eyes of his. “Uh, if
you say so, boss.”
I scooped the cat up into my arms
and snapped my fingers once more.
Suddenly we were up in space, look
ing down on the planet.
“Gaze down upon our home, my
feline friend. The earth, perfect and
serene, beautiful and wondrous.
What do you think?”
Marx grinned at me. “Yeah ... it’s
just not enough, is it?” I laughed. My
cat certainly had his own outlook on
life.
Marx and 1 then took a tour
across the planet, looking at various
things I’d always wanted to see until I
stopped in a coffee shop in Rome.
The waiter didn’t notice my cat and,
by luck - nudge, nudge, wink, wink -
the waiter spoke perfect English.
“Are you going to look into the
future and see when the world ends?”
Marx asked me.
“Nah, no need. It doesn’t.”
My cat peered at me. “It does
n’t?” '
“I doubt it. We’ve claimed for
centuries that man is driving the
world into the ground, but every time
things seem to be getting bad, they
start getting better. The reason
WWIII never happened was because
both sides knew we’d never survive
it, and therefore, everyone bluffed
and no one called it
“The world isn’t going to end, at
least not with a bang. But if I looked
a few thousand years into the future, I
doubt it’d make any sense to me any
way, so what’s the point?”
“What about your future? You
going to change it?” Marx asked me.
I took a sip from my cappuccino.
“And spoil the fun of it? I like a few
surprises in my life.”
My cat mulled this over as he
lapped at his saucer of milk.
“Still, you could just make your
self a billionaire. Or find the perfect
girlfriend. Or give me back my claws
and my ...”
“No, no and no. The first two
involve me changing things, which I
don’t want to do no matter how
tempting the idea is. The last two,
well, I had you declawed and
neutered so I could keep you. Sorry
pal.”
“So what are you going to do
with all this power that you’ve got at
your fingertips? Anything?” s
I shook my head. “The most
important thing about power is to
know when you aren’t ready for it,
and I’m not, nor do I think anyone
else is or ever could be.”
“Any cat would know what to do
with it.”
borne cat already had it.
The cat, I kid you not, ruffled his
brow at me. “How’s that?”
“Cats sit around all day in peo
ple’s houses, get free food and shelter
and have made a living out of being
both lazy and annoying, and yet
humans love them regardless.”
Marx chuckled, which is an odd
sight, a cat chuckling, but nothing
odder than anything else that had
happened this day. “Good point.”
Another snap of my fingers and
my cat and I were home. The day
passed and at midnight, I felt the
omnipotent powers drain from my ^
system, and everything was normal
once more.
I laid down in my bed and my cat
darted across die room and coiled up
on the blanket next to me.
As my eyes closed, I swear I
heard him sing. “Hello, I must be
going. I came to say I cannot stay I
must be going. I’m glad I came, but
just the same I must be going.”
Was I dreaming? Still awake or
completely asleep? I whispered qui
etly, “Say goodnight, Marx.” ■
The last tiling I remember was
my cat whispering back, “Goodnight
Marx.” i
Who says you can’t train a cat?
Cliff Hicks is a senior news-editorial and English major and a Daily Nebraskan columnist