MARTORTE M. GOODWIN
EDITOR
ELIZABETH EDMUNDS
BUSINESS MANAGER
MARTORIE YOUNG
Managing Editor
ROSEANN LECKIE
Advertising Manager
ANNE CRAVEN
News Editor
EDITORIAL BOARD
Edith Newton
Shirley Stearns, Executive Secretary
Shaun McDermott, Warren Miller
Army Co-editors
Bob Stiles, Sports Editor
Carol Greening, Betty Ann Stevens,
Co-Women’s Editors
Mary Jo Geiser, Staff Photographer
Carol Cook, Chief Night Editor
Elizabeth Haugen, Assistant Managing Editor
Published daily during the college year except Sundays, Mondays, and holidays and
final examination periods by the Associated Students, University of Oregon.
Entered as second-class matter at the postoffice. Eugene, Oregon.
WlutUe*. Wan Matnimcmif?
Sunday afternoon will find students and faculty members
meeting' for the opening of the annual Love and Marriage dis
cussion on the campus, and later next week individual houses
will hold fireside discusions of problems relating to love and
marriage.
Students who do not understand this series are likely to
laugh and think that such discussions can hardly be worth
much, that little is to be gained by participation in such meet
ings. But considered seriously, there is much good and worth
while in such a series. Under the abnormal conditions caused
by war, problems of love and marriage become far more dif
ficult than they are under ordinary circumstances. The ques
tion of whether war time marriage can be successful in war time
or if it should be delayed until normal times is extremely im
portant to people of college age, and in this series there is an
opportunity to discuss such problems with a group that is
willing to think seriously on the subject, and to be aided by
competent campus leaders from the faculty and staff who are
truly prepared to consider and advise on such questions.
sK * * *
The Love and Marriage series on the campus is a tradition,
and a valuable one. In the past such brilliant speakers as Dr.
Paul Popenoc have come here to aid students in successfuly fac
ing the problems of love and marriage. This year three leaders
will be available for discussion at the general meeting Sunday,
and later for private conferences. Dr. R. R. Huestis, Dr. L. S.
Bee, and Dr. W. G. Nicholson are all well prepared to help
students straighten out in their minds the many problems they
may now be facing in regard to their present and future.
cMeaAi in the Clouds . . .
The second winter term ASUD forum tonight features an
all-campus “bull session”. But we are willing to bet that despite
the obvious informality not 50 students show up.
Why not? We’re not being asked to attend a lecture or a
seminar. This is no dull stop at one of the filling-stations of
education. All it amounts to is a friendly get-together for the
purpose of discussing subjects which we would hash over in
dorm bedrooms or sorority lounges anyway. What’s the matter
with taking the discussion over to Gerlinger?
* * * *
Freedom of speech is something we have taken for grant
ed for so long that to bring it up at all must of necessity sound
somewhat trite. But we at the University of Oregon might
just as well not have that freedom of speech. What difference
would it make to us? We don't use it; the only times we talk
about life’s basic problems or politics, we do it half-surreptiti
ously, in holes and corners—-huddled on the floor of someone’s
room, usually. We would be doing that if we had a dictatorship.
For what reason do we need free speech?
* * * *
And don’t say that you have to go to something else this
evening. True, the Eugene Natural History society meets to
night, and the WAA fun night is set for this evening. But you
all won’t be at the Natural History society meeting, and you
won’t all be at the WAA fun night. Nor will you all be over
at “Dark Victory". The theaters of Eugene will be filled with
colege students; there will be a sizeable representation at the
Winter Garden, and a contingent out at the Holland.
* * * *
In keeping with the intention of giving the discussion en
tirely over to the students, Dr. Jameson, the speaker, has not
even selected a topic, but will depend for his part of the program
on the questions and problems advanced by the students. Don't
fear that you’ll have to sit through a lecture on some topic
which, while of interest to others, may not concern you in the
slightest.
* >J< >}<
But the main thing to remember is that empires are top
pling, the world is shaking, the country is deep in the gravest
period of its history, the University has more things wrong
with it than you could find if you studied here for ten years—
and here we walk, with our heads lost in the clouds. N. \ .
{—WE-'r- _... ---
BARRACK
BLASTS
By PVT. WEN SMITH
Printer's ink has never washed out of your bltf od though
it’s been a long time since you batted out stories for the college
paper back home, and a lot of GI needle juice has been shot
into you to dilute your plasma. It’s still there, and you remem
ber the days you used to spend bending over a hot typewriter—
huntiner for the “L”.
But after all, you’ve got the ink
in your blood. Your dad was an old
newspaperman—until he found
out there was no money in old
newspapers. So you’ve got to
write. You start thinking up an
idea for a column. •
Sometimes you feel a bit inade
quate, living in the same house
with a bunch of alleged brains.
Guys from all over the country
and the world, with diplomas from
all kinds of institutions—educa
tional ones, of course.
There are BA’s from Yale, MA’s
from Oxford, LLD’s from Har
vard, MS’s from Columbia, PhD’s
from Chicago, and you wouldn’t be
surprised to find a few RW’s from
Georgia Tech. The trouble is they
all have the papers to prove it.
You can’t talk back to a diploma.
A look around shows you that
the barracks are full of talent,
and you have to envy that, too.
The languages they speak include
everything from Hindustani to
Brooklynese, and most of the
chatter goes on after lights out.
They are all victims of the old
army game. They came here with
a high degree of fluency in, say,
Low German. But they were put
to work learning Lower Italian'.
One fellow spoke good, colloquial
Russian, so it seemed natural to
put him in Portuguese. Some had
nothing more than a good back
ground in army slang. They
wound up in Norwegian.
So you hear a lot of gripes when
the grades come out, and for these
men you’d like to sugest that the
University offer a course in mod
ern conversational invective.
One of your roommates is a real
artist, and is always doing studies
of still life and professors... He
spends every study hour drawing
caricatures until the section leader
makes him lay that pastel down.
Musicians are about as rare as
rain in Oregon. Running competi
tion to the engineers’ Ralph Sut
ton is Jack Tyner who plays the
piano just like Rubenstein—with
both hands.
Getting back to literature,
some poet in the gang wrote:
They let me volunteer one day,
The chance I then did seize;
They shipped me off to Oregon
.To study Portuguese.
You wonder why the man is wast
ing his genius on barrack walls.
There is a lot of technical abil
ity in the outfit, too. One guy can
count up to eleven on his toes.
Another prodigy can build a fire
with only one book of matches.
Book of matches—that’s what he
calls fire by fiction.
Some of the fellows can read
and write, and talk philosophy
and economics. They’ve gone to
school so long that they can al
ways tell you which side their
bread is buttered on. You get to
feeling inferior living with all this
talent and education. Then you
get into an argument on polities,
and you wonder what good it’s
done them.
The Hilltop Press, student
newspaper at Cortland State
Teachers college Cortland, New
York, featured a college seal de
sign. Cortland, through its history
as both a normal school and col
lege, has never had a seal, and the
suggested design is awaiting pub
lic approval before it is accepted
as the permanent seal.
I Jam for
I Breakfast
^ *$* •
By SUE WELCH
For the benefit of those of you
to whom the title of this column
may sound familiar, JAM FOR
BREAKFAST was formerly writ
ten by Ted Hallock who is now a
bombardier in Uncle Sam’s Army
Air Force giving Adolf a few
solid licks over in England. I, be
ing Halock’s “cuz” am attempting
to carry on for him until he, and
all the other Oregon fellows can
come back and make this campus
what it used to be.
“Fathah’’ Bailey and his really
solid crew of cats gave with the
fine licks at the 1.8.A. Canteen
Mixer last Saturday night. For
those of you that were there, did
you check those really reet ar
rangements of “Down Under”,
and “Ten Day Furlough” ? For
those of you that weren’t there,
you should have ben. The boys
were really in the groove, and
were sendin’ solid. If you missed
Saturday night’s session, be sure
and cut this Sunday’s Campus
Serenade if you want to get hep
to some fine moosik.
In case any of you are interested
in what goes oil in the world of
jive, (and who isn’t), and you
haven’t time to cram in an hour
or two of fine literature, better
known as Downbeat here is the
set-up for Downbeat’s 1943 all
star band.
Trumpet—Ziggy Elman form
erly with T. Dorsey, and now in
the coast guard; Bobby Hackett,
who took all those sweet solos with
Miller; and Rex Stuart, Duke El
lington’s finest. Trombone—Jack
(Please turn to page jour)
Nuf Sed
By CHAS. POLITZ
Mary lYLtugaiei ^nowunu
it, in her belted raincoat that
chromatically is like ripe green
bananas—only riper—only, how
ever, ripe bananas aren’t green.
The coat is.
Mary Margaret Ellsworth told
it with eyes twinkling on and off
like a congressman's daughter's
the year of election. She told it
about a rat she read about "in my
sohsh book”. It seems as ifthe
rat was in a cage, the way Mary
Margaret tells it. We had grave
suspicions as to how a rat could
live in a cage in a “sohsh book”,
but we let her tell it anyway.
The rat was a scientifically-in
culcated rate and an ex-officio
member of the American Medical
association and in some ways re
sembled Fishbein, and he had been
allotted a little pile of straw' with
which to build a nest. Why any
rat would wrant to build a nest of
straw when he was already in a
cage, w'as more than we cared to
comprehend, but then maybe he
didn’t get an invitation to the
Jackson day dinner.
suosequenuy, it seems, uie ictu
began to build his nest. He picked
up each piece of straw in his teeth
and carried it across the cage to
the other side where he laid it
down in a very certain way on the
straw he had just carried over.
This he continued until he had ex
hausted all the straw and was
very tired himself.
Having no more straw to carry,
he picked up his owm tail in his
teeth and carried it across the
cage to the other side and laid
it down in a very certain wray on
top of the other straw’. He then
W’alked back to the other sWe
of the cage, picked up his tail
and laid it on the first one.
The way Mary Margaret Elis
worth tells it, he repeated this
for over half an hour in her “sohsh
book.” Cataclysmic climax: end
of tale.
Tufts college recently received
as a gift a 126-year-old watch that
Belonged to Charles Tufts, donor
of the land on which the college
was built.
Neiv
White Caledonia
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COTTONS !
Pretty as a picture
34. & G*
CUGEN£ OWNED. WUK NEW YORK BUYING CONNECTION
NEW MANAGEMENT