ll!:!i:!!l!!!I!IIHIlH!lllilll]|IIII!IIIIIIHlll!lll1l!lllllllillllIIIHIIimillIIIIIHIIIIIIIIIIIIHIIIIII111lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllIIIIIIIIIIlllllllllllllllllllliIIIIIIIIIIIillliillHlllllllllllllllintIllllllllllillIlllllllltl
Oregon H Emerald
BAY SCHRICK, Editor; BETTY BIGGS SCHRICK, Business Mgr.
G. Duncan Wimpress, Managing Editor; Marjorie Young, News Editor;
John J. Mathews, Associate Editor
UPPER BUSINESS STAFF
Advertising Managers: Lois Claus, Classified Advertising Man
John Jensen, Cecil Sharp, Shirley Davit, ager.
Russ Smelser. Elizabeth Edmunds, National Advertlf
Dwayne Heathman ing Manager.
Connie Fullmer, Circulation Manager.
Member
UPPER NEWS STAFF
Fbsocided Collegiate Press wome^1 m
Marge Major, Women’s Editor
Janet Wagstaff, Assistant Editor
ALL-AMERICAN 1942
Represented for national advertising by NATIONAL ADVERTISING SERVICE,
INC., college publishers’ representative, 420 Madison Ave., New York—Chicago—Boston
—Los Angeles—San Francisco—Portland—Seattle.
Published daily during the college year except Sundays, Mondays, holidays and final
examination periods by the Associated Students, University of Oregon.
Entered as second-class matter at the postoffice, Eugene, Oregon.
SHOULD auld acquaintance be forgot’’ . . . the million
boys who are overseas tonight.
“And never brought to mind” . . . they may attack, but
they’ll remember too it’s New Year’s Eve.
“Should auld acquaintance be forgot” . . . whether they
be the dead or the living we think of them in Tunis, Bataan,
or Guadalcanal.
“And days of auld lang syne” . . . may those days return
soon in peace.
“For auld lang syne” . . . we remember the dead who were
our schoolmates not so long ago.
“For auld lang syne” . . . we remember the living and may
they return from over there to be our friends again.
“We’ll drink a cup of kindness then” . . . and hope to drink
another when they do come back.
“For auld lang sync” . . . war cannot dim hopes for days
of peace, for they are the best of all.
HP H E all-important fact of World War II is that the United
States, with every advantage of natural resources and
manpower, is actually the underdog.
Japan did not attack Pearl Harbor without a knowledge of
our potential strength. The Japanese knew we had the steel,
the minerals, the men, but they attacked in spite of these things.
They attacked because they planned that we would be lethar
gic, that we would waste our economy of abundance, that we
would haughtily underestimate their ability for making the
best of their shortages.
Because of our overconfidence, we were caught asleep at
Pearl Harbor, and also because of our over-confidence, we
face shortages of essential war materials in the midst of plenty.
JAPAN lias utilized every ounce of steel whether it be scrap
we sent before the war, or from their own picket fences.
Conquered territories are stripped of metal. The Japanese
know they face shortage, so they take every ounce on which
they can lay their hands.
Our job in winning this war is to do the same. We don't
have a surplus of steel if it is not in war plants where it is
needed. We do not have a surplus of tanks, if they are not de
livered to the fighting line. Ours is the uphill battle now, if
we are to win. The Axis has been in the position of the under
rated football team, which with no reserves and no star play
ers, rose psychologically in attempt to bat down the "unbeat
able” team. All the betting odds were in our favor, but for
some reason the Axis nations didn’t listen to the "prognosti
cators" and thought if they had enough courage and organiza
tion they could pull an upset.
The contest today is barely through the second quarter.
Unless our half-time talk peps us up to realize that we are now
the underdog that must crush the Axis odds our team is still
in danger of defeat. The fight will be long, harder in the second
half than in the first. But like Notre Dame, the United States
has always been a good second-half team. We must come from
behind to win.
It may be hard to get up for that eight o'clock Friday morn
ing after New Year’s Eve, but it’s not nearly as tough as get
ting up at five like the boys in the army.
The government wants pennies put into circulation. The
quickest way would be to take out all the nickel pin-ball ma
chines, and substitute them with penny games.
* * *
Another reason it would be nice to have the war end, we
would no longer have to hear the slogan, "Lucky Strike Green
lias Gone to War.”
* * *
The new ROTC "victory rifles" may be made of wood, .but
they look enough like the real thing that we’d hate to take a
chance against them on a dark night.
AdJtih
By JOHN J. MATHEWS
When you’re alternating be
tween dates and classes it’s every
day for months, it's a little hard
to keep freshly in mind the hec
tic business that goes on just
outside the gates of the campus.
Sure, you read and see and hear
your fill and more of war. But,
after a certain amount of reading
and hearing about it, the sharp
edges are worn off the words,
and, after a point, the more you
hear the less important the whole
thing seems to become.
Christmas vacation was a ter
rible reminder.
When every place you go eyes
are saying “Why the hell aren’t
you in the army?’’ you begin to
understand why Goodman’s re
leases sound like they shouldn’t
and Dorsey’s releases sound like
they do and Miller doesn’t sound.
Whether it’s a Buescher or a
Conn, somebody has to supply
the musicianship — besides the
wind. There are still plenty of
boys around who can play their
scales and read the little black
notes on the big white page, but
nine out of ten young men whose
bodies are as robust as their
ideas are doing battle for the
rest of us.
And what does all this add up
to?
It adds up to the reason why
Krupa stinks consistently and
Goodman stinks mostly and Dor
sey has begun to make with the
unpleasant odor. It adds up to
the fact that we all might as
well resign ourselves to hearing
an awful lot of music with our
noses before this war is over.
That great man of the tubs,
G. Duncan Wimpress, has now
appeared in a motion picture.
Yet. For anyone who will pay the
dollar projector rental he will
gladly show the 8mm. master
piece of cinemagraphic art,
“Man Eating Oatmeal While
Giving Vent to Certain Very
Vulgar Emotions.” Really, kids,
he’s just playing drums—but the
expressions. Blub, blub. You can
imagine Krupa with the D.T.’s?
Al Larsen Tackles Hot v
International Question
Churchill the politician and Churchill the statesman should
get together, and Churchill of Britain and Churchill of the At
lantic charter should have a conference. If they don’t, the prime
minister who is fighting England's war may not be the same
prime minister who makes the peace.
This is a war to end empires — the military, political, or
economic control of one nation bv another. Mercantilist eco
nomics and balance of power
politics are being replaced by
live-and-let-live or good neigh
bor economics.
World War I, in which Eng
land found herself in the con
tradictory position of fighting
both for and against empire,
side-stepped this fundamental is
sue. We face the ghastly possi
bility of a World War III if we
again ignore the trend of history
that gives solid recognition to
man’s need for freedom.
Freedom is not merely a weap
on for winning this war. It is a
reality wanted for different rea
sons by all nations. America
thinks primarily in terms of the
preservation of freedoms, but
also of the right to develop new
ones. The people of England,
France, China, Russia, Norway,
and all the attacked and op
pressed nations know what free
dom means and know that they
want it. And history cries out,
trying to tell us that all peoples
want freedom from outside op
pression, direct or indirect, and
that until nations take positive
steps toward satisfying mutual
needs war will continue to haunt
US.
“Liquidation” of empires and
progress toward freedom are def
initely in harmony. We were the
first modern people to oppose the
concept of empire when we sep
arated from the world’s greatest
empire. The Monroe Doctrine ex
cluded designs of empire from
the American continents, and the
“Open Door” policy excluded it
from the Far East. Progressive
plans for Philippine independence
and recent renouncement of ex
tra-territorial rights in China are
evidence of a definite attitude in
this country towards empire. And
we are willing to suffer the heavy
sacrifices of a global war to pre
(Please turn to page eight)
cJiaw- 9l Made
By DOROTHY GODKNECHT
Time in the making, or how it’s done!
That’s the secret told by an exhibit recently on display in
the hall of the journalism building. It didn’t cover the making
of more time for exam-cramming, but demonstrated what goes
on behind the printing of a typical story in Time magazine.
description of work done on
“There is the Man,” a story of
Douglas MacArthur and his po
sition in Australia. It explained
the stages of the story—from
the time of its birth in the minds
of the Time editors to its printed
appearance.
Time’s research staff spent
two days gathering the facts for
this four page article. During
this two-day research, thousands
of words of background informa
tion were produced for the edi
tors’ guidance. The material for
this particular story included
data on MacArthur, his personnel
and professional history, and in
formation on his Australian base
of operations.
For such an article the fact
finders drew from Time’s own
reference library, and the New
York public and private libraries.
Through these sources more than
five million mooks are made
available. Time’s morgue, con
taining facts on almost any news
name and story of the last fifteen
years, is also combed for details.
Over 300,000 envelopes holding
2,000,000 clippings are included
in this morgue. There are 16
bulging envelopes relative to
General MacArthur alone, while
two full envelopes are available
on so relatively unimportant a
personality as “Mirza Ali Khan,
Fakir of Ipi.”
Besides searching libraries and
morgue, Time sends out question
naires to its correspondents lo
cated in both the United States
and foreign countries. These cor
respondents then wire back any
relative information which they
possess.
After all this collaboration, the
writer makes a first draft, draw
ing on his own wide knowledge
as well as the data from research
department and correspondents.
His first writing is then typed
and passed on to a senior editor
who in turn, contributes from his
personal fund of information. He
may cut or add, altering the
story in any way he thinks will
improve it. Passing thus from
editor to editor, a story may be
rewritten five or six times be
(Plcasc turn to page three)
About Christmas vacation—or
“Ten Gory Days in the Ship
yards.” ~f'
We didn’t work in the ship
yards. .
Had a good job for a couple of
days biting counterfeit money in
the local bank. That ended
abruptly, however, when we got
over-zealous and bit the presi
dent as he passed our cage.
We then got a job in a tailor
shop picking lint 'off blue suits.
This ended disastrously when
the owner caught us hiring bad
little boys from the reformatory
to blow the lint back on so we
could work overtime.
We finally bribed a clothing
man with a dram of"coffeg grfj fe
and a pair of nylon heels and toes
to give us a job im his exclusive
shop—“Pancho von Glickenstein’s
Ye Olde Toggery and Welder’s
Supplies.” Here we spent ten
glorious days selling size 14
shirts to size 15 necks, and swear
ing by the five hairs on Henry
Kaiser’s bald head that OUR
woolen shirts WOULD NOT
shrink in hot water.
We featured Marrow shirts
with the death-grip, breathe-I
dare-you collar. Also Intercloven
hose, the sox with the My Sin
scent (life-time guaranteed until
the second wearing), the. only
sock whose holes are approved
by the Good Housekeeping Seal
of Approval.
Sweaters were our specialty,
however. We had one size—jj y
dium—which fit everything from
itinerant bedbugs to walking edi
tions of the Chrysler building.
“They wear them that way,’’
we always said, tongue bitten
black and blue in cheek.
“Which way?’’ they always
said.
“Good question that,” we al
ways retorted, trying to cover
up that moth hole on the right
sleeve with our sales book.
We sold brown sox to Navy
mothers because “a color contrast
is smarter this season”—and we
were all out of blue sox.
We sold cuff links to sweet
hearts of army privates and gift
certificates to sisters of brothers
on Guadalcanal.
Our store’s motto: “Our chis
eling’s patriotic. How else c'vi
we pay our income tax!” ^ ..
While in the land of the bounc
ing woman welder we saw “Ara
bian Nights,” that great epic of
the South Pasadenean desert
where sloe (gin)-eyed, native
(South Chicago) slave girls are
auctioned off like bags of bones.
What bags—what bones!
The picture is noteworthy be
cause of the emergence of Jon
Hall from his pre-shrunk sarong
and death grip on film-curdling
Dorothy Lamoo-r into the veiled
nightgown of a sheik, and the
gorgeous curves of the desert
camels as they waddle seductive
ly to the nearest desert liq.^.
store. Maria Montez is also in
the picture.
We wept big wet tears to see i
Sabu without his elephant for
the first time. We know he would
(Please turn to Page Seven)