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About Oregon daily emerald. (Eugene, Or.) 1920-2012 | View Entire Issue (April 14, 1938)
By JOHN PINK \ _._ _ Yesterday I wrote a lengthy column concerning Dr. Arthur Mardcr. 1 don’t want to see him leave the campus, and I said that in quite a few more words than T do now. Probable in the heat of my creative efforts T pointed out too many incongruities with tins l Diversity. In other vords I guess [ just shot off' my mouth too loudly and at the wrong persons. As is my custom of late. 1 went oveV to the press around 12:30 after our good editor had departed for his bed. I wanted to check that column personally since our good edi tor is quite a humorist in his own right (but he can t tell right from wrong) and often times playfully inserts his cute litotes into my efforts. 1 saw that my column wasn't going lo be set. So I left. I knew I was safe from our good editor’s humor for that nig’ht anyhow. I am glad now it wasn’t set up fer our good editor is very mad at me. It seems the coat I sacrificed to him the other night has turned up missing, or in other words, it has failed to turn up at all. Owing to the fact that I was in the rat trap in which our editor hangs his only other coat immediately preceding its disappearance, I was the logical candidate for his suspicions. They are more than suspicions, though. Sometimes I think they are direct accusations. iff ft -Ys T think our good editor will he glad his newly acquired coat is missing. Ho would feel very sad when it fell to pieces on him about the third time he wore it; he would probably think lie got “gyped” as the gyps say. But anyonte knowing the major characteristics that comprise our editor’s person ality will find it difficult to imagine him being “gyped” by , anyone, let alone by an unlettered Astoria fisherman. (l»y the way, 1 wish he would let me alone.) tft Jft # I was picking' my way gingerly down no man's land be tween the breastworks thrown up on either side of the walk from the old libo to Commerce the other early morning, when out of the stillness and the black of the night a vision came to me. All over the campus I saw men working'. Like swarms of busy ants, they were busy here :and there digging, erecting, landscaping the University grounds. No one bothered them. No one seemed to know what they were doing, other than they were doing something. This went on for some time, then faded away. Trailing in its misty wake came an idea. 1 would get me a gang of men and start digging up the’ University grounds. No one would ever suepect mo. So yes terday with ruler, pad, and pencil 1 carefully examined a plot of clear ground near the imposing front of the library. 1 think 1 will start building a tilling station there. (1'hlitor’s note: Never deal with shysters. Since l’ink has revealed that 1 am the victim of his dupli city—to the extent of £1.73—I might as well recount the (ireumstanees. Since 1 am a kind, simple souk 1 readily accede to John's request 1 give him the abov osum for the coat, especially after lie told me it was to buy Mowers for Ids aging grandmother. Completing the transaction, I invited the viper over to our mansion for scones. 1 went to bed. Pink went home with the coat. The next day a man in a ear stopped me. lie inquires if J have seen John Pink. I says no but 1 would like to see him about a coat. A brown and white cheeked coat with one button missing, inquires the man in the ear. \ es says I. IP starts to grin. 1 knew the jig was up. That's my brothers coat he says. 1 gave the whole suit to Pink four years ago. I says oh. Moral: Never trade with shysters. Pink is going ba k to stealing tish Monday—pickings are too slim around hero. We his creditors are going to call a mass meeting. We will present him with a warm, fluffy suit to wear home • a coat of tar and feathers. P.M.'i At a recent meeting- of the Pi k Epsilon, national mathematics , |> .-'.ovary, officers for next year v> ve elected as follows: director, , Cordon W. Link: vice-director, Ben fi W i n e r : secretary-treasurer, iWny Catherine Soranson. Profes f,o■■ Edg'ar DeCou. head of the ^mthematics department is the • niiient secretary of the group. The organization voted to con-! a p tribute ten dollars in prizes to be awarded to students who attain outstanding' results in a competi tive mathematics examination, to be given next year. % Dr. Kenneth S. Ghent is in charge of the committee to make arrangements for the fraternity’s annual banquet which will be held soon after junior weekend. LEROY MATTINGLY, Editor WALTER R. VERNSTROM, Manager LLOYD TUPLING, Managing Editor Associate Editors: Paul Deutschmann, Clare Igoe. Editorial Board: Darrel Ellis, Bill Peace, Margaret Ray, Edwin Robbins, A1 Dickhart, Kenneth Kirtley, Bernardine Bowman. Elbert Hawkins, Sports Editor Bill Pengra, City Editor Lew Evans, Assistant Managing Editor UPPER NEWS STAFF Martha Stewart, Women’s Editor Don Kennedy, Radio Editor Rita Wright, Society Editor Alyce Rogers, Exchange Editor Betty Jane Thompson, church editor John Biggs, Chief Night Editor The Oregon Daily -Emerald, official student publication of the University of Oregon, published daily during the college year ei t Sundays, Mondays, holidays and final examination period s. Entered as second-class mail matter at the postffice, Eugene, excei Oregon. Men Witho ut a Class By BILL CUMMINGS jOLOC trouble is not the only thing which is worrying the political powerhouses of the sophomore class. They have a question to settle which is not limited to any one faction, but affects the whole list of soph voters, in eluding a certain group of students who can best be classified as ‘‘men without a class." These men without a class are the unfor tunate leftovers of ’38 and '39 who have not yet received junior certificates. Jhe question is: Should they be eligible to vote in the forth coming election of junior officers. # # >y? issue cropped up during the Kemlev Burdiek campaign last year, Avhen the campaign managers bought class cards in wholesale lots, shoved them in the faces of everybody without class cards (from first term transfers on up to a assistant processors) and told them to vote. And vote they did, although many of them had no idea who was running for what, and cared less. But it was tin* novelty of the thing, here was a row about the matter, and now it's being aired again with reference to the 1938 elections. An official verdict has not yet been an nounced. but in all probability “men without a class’’ will again be allowed to cast ballots. OW there are many students on the cam pus who have been around here for a long time and have not yet met all the re quirements for a junior certificate. (One slip, somewhere along the line, and it’s like trying to get an appointment to West Point.) Most of these students have no interest in the affairs of the sophomore class, and cer tainly very few of them would derive any * benefit from the class after the new officers were elected. When they failed to get their junior certificates, they should have forfeited the right to vote in class affairs. This leaves a large group with no class voting privileges, but not many of them would be broken-hearted. And the election would then be. limited to the sophomores who have the right to vote and who have enough inter est in the thing to make their votes count. Small Matter (The Washington Daily ) By ELENA SBEDICO “While the rose said to the sun, ‘I shall always remember thee’ Her petals fell to the dust.” —Rabindanath Tagore Columnists are great egoists who put their dreams, ideas, and half-baked realism in the front stalls and stand by, wearing the soiled apron of their servitude (spotted with printer’s ink and boloney), flinching a little as the listless reader pokes their wares to test the ripeness. Too often the columnist is sincere, even intense and for this reason he become grotesque. Perhaps he is not lost. There may be hope for him in the stable confines of a dependable firm. He will re form then. He will become a respectable Lion, Moose, Elk, or Rotarian. Or perhaps he will re main an embarrassment to his friends, shouting his gnat-voiced ideology to the sun—while his petals wilt. And the windmills of the world may continue to invite his Quixotian cutlass. Perhaps, even, he will die on a Spanish battlefront wonder ing a little at the last, the blood-taste bitter in his mouth, if he were right, if it were worth his youth and if he had ever been sure just what it was all about. But these young columnists are frequently shod dy. They are in love with words. Meaning is secondary. They speak of war, injustice, poverty and know only half-truths. Their skin is too thin. Eager to impersonate Aatlas in the public print they at the same time shudder at a coarse-grained word, a coarse-grained truth. In short, the collegiate columnist sees himself stripping the bandages from the eyes of the people. While he remains the most pitiable of the blind. And what, after all, does he want with truth! He should be willing to interpret his little farce in pantomime, play out his story upon a blackened stage while the audience sleeps. And if he would escape the final defeat of bitter ness he should guard against taking himself too seriously. Too, he must remember always to laugh so he may not weep. Time is too temporary and the noise of crying is too much with us. In the Mail * A SOCK FOR SOC To the Editor: May I take advantage of the medium you offer to welcome to the fold Sigma Omega Chi, the newest campus “honorary” ? In step with the past is this newest movement—especially in the delicate selection of its name. Nevertheless, I should like to suggest application of the old Greek maxim, “Know Thyself,” by the thirty newly honored students. Can you sin cerely say that selection for membership into your group has been on the basis of any scho lastic achievement? Are the achievements of the members even taken as a whole — such that would give them even the negligible distinction of being rated in the upper half of the enrollment in social science courses here at the University? Individually, do the new SOCs really believe there is any honor attached to this affiliation— or is it just another new pin? All too many, by far, organi zations already exist blasphem ing the name “honorary,” and above all, you budding “scien tists’* would be the last to justi fy the existence of anything merely because of precedence. So, take a friendly tip from, prhaps, an old “sourpuss” — while you are still young and formative, change your name to “Social Science Socialites,” or “Association for the Pleasant Interaction Among Social Sci ence Students.” Either of the aforementioned names would serve admirably the purposes outlined by the group. I think the aim to aid the underprivileged — giving to charity all profits from “big dances’’ or “musical comedy shows’’ is most ^ioble, and heartily approve of the show of social consciousness—but why drag in this business of “honor ary” ? Meet, then, little Junior Leaguers, the second Tuesday of every month, and carry on your “social interaction”; write home, little status-seekers, an tell Mom and Dad that you have been chosen by an “honorary” as one of their very own—but if you can so kid yourselves, and remain “social scientists”— woe be unto the social sciences! Respectfully, R.R,