Growing Up?
Sundav was more than the clay after Homecoming'. It
marked the third birthday of the United Nations.
Strange it is to note that this organization, which is so
widely acclaimed and denounced, it but an infant. Its three
years have been eventful ones, but perhaps not too conduc
ive to its growth.
There have been many problems to settle since the end
of the war, and most of them have not yet been resolved too
successfully. There have been conflicting ideologies to bring
together, but Eastern and Western Europe have found it
difficult to achieve harmony.
The most recent of the UN problems was to work out some
kind of a compromise on the Berlin blockade situation. Ev
en as the UN was celebrating its anniversary, these nego
tiation efforts fell through. That old bogey “veto” appeared
once more to bring things to a halt.
Yet all the work of the United Nations has not been in
vain. UNESCO has done much toward promoting interna
tional understanding. Perhaps as the UN grows older and
more mature it will be more successful in healing the ills of
this sorry planet. J. O.____
"In MY Opinion../
FROM OUR READERS
UI.n.UK lCM'; ;U l
To the Editor:
As a student of the University,
T was absolutely astounded to
see the various houses send
“stooges” to the game Saturday
to reserve sections of the grand
stand for the members of their
houses.
Certainly, just because one be
longs to a certain house doesn't
necessarily make him rate a su
perior seat over anyone else. If
that’s what you call democracy
in a university and if the houses
really think that their gestures
were justified I’m frankly saying
that I’m ashamed to be a mem
ber of such a university.
After all, the entire student
body supports the football team,
and why not think it fair to let
those who get there first have a
r ight to any seat in the student
section not roped off by proper
authority.
Think it over fraternity houses
and hang your heads in disgrace,
because it was certainly an abus
ive and deplorable act.
(Name Withheld)
SNOBBISH SCHOOL?
To the Editor:
I have read articles about the
spirit of Oregon and its traditions
yet I have seen no basis for sucl)
claims. There isn’t any spirit at
Oregon. No one says hello to any
one else no matter how many
times they have met: very few
observe the traditions unless
forced to by their respective
houses, a few participate in the
rallies and parades- and they are
usually the fraternities and so
rorities.
The only real noise they make
is after a touchdown or after the
yell king has yelled himself
uumse trying iu get stmic ixuioc.
The girls are well known for be
ing conceited, snobblish, and too
good for anyone without a con
vertible.
No one knows anyone else un
less he or she meets them in class,
or in a club of the same few, or
at a hello dance where the boys
are so thick you wonder where
the women are.
I am guilty of being unfriendly
and even snobbish thought I
don't like V1 be. is a habit I
acquired from being ignored
when I first came here with a
greeting for everyone I thought
might be friendly, only to have a
nose raised and blank stares
greet me in return.
We played WSC Saturday in
a football game. Few people here
realized the spirit behind that
team. WSC has a spirit that does
n't exist at Oregon. If you say
hello to someone at WSC nirte out
of ten times he or she will beat
you to it. I knew more students
and participated in more activi
ties at WSC in one semester than
I ever will meet at the U. of O.
Oregon is a swell school. It has
just as high a scholastic stan
dard and just as good a student
body but no spirit or friendliness.
I admit WSC has its political
troubles between Greeks and In
dependents but it certainly does
n’t have Oregon's social caste
system.
. . . Maybe if a few Greeks met
a few independents both would
find that money isn't everything.
Maybe a few girls with average
looks would meet more boys with
the same thing.
How about making Oregon a
friendly school ?
A sincere student.
E. W. K.
Oregon® Emerald
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RADIO FANS KNOW
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Carnival
As Halloween Nears-About
Some Ghosts, Real and Fancied
By BARBARA HEYWOOD
Maybe you don’t believe in
ghosts—but I do, firmly.
It all started with my brother
and his interminable stories. No
one read Pollyanna and the Three
Bears to me at bedtime, but every
night possible my brother would
come into my bedroom, and sit in
the dark telling ghost stories.
They had the standard props,
witches and wizards, but, in ad
dition, new and strange animals
stalked through them.
The Garfels were perhaps the
most wicked. Huge, bloated crea
tures, they floated through the
world wreaking destruction. I
came to believe in the Garfels,
and have been expecting to
meet one ever since one ate seven
little girls in a mouthful and
came to America looking for more.
The horror of a later era was
caused by a radio program that
some of you probably remember.
It started this way: The SHA
dow of FOO . . . MAN . . ,CHU!
Bo-ong!!
Before Foo Man Chu entered
my life I had felt relatively safe
in my bedroom, for the windows
were wedged, and would not open
wide enough to admit anyone.
But Fu Man Chu was not to be
vanquished by this naive safety
device.
He had in his employ a monster
equipped with long iron arms
covered with fur. The arms could
reach under the wedged window,
and all the way across the room.
The steel hands would clutch the
victim’s throat as he lay in bed.
Black faced and bloated, he would
be found in the morning by
stricken relatives.
It took me half an hour every
night to bring myself to climb
the stairs to my bedroom.
Another terror lurked in the
darkness of my room. Nightly I
would look under the bed and be
hind the doors, and then climb
into the sack rapidly, jerking my
feet up lest someone grab them.
After I had assured myself that
Fu Man Chu's monster had not
elected that night to visit me, I
felt quite peaceful. .
This peace was dispelled by my
little friend with black hair and
protruding teeth, (her name was
Dolores) who confided in me that
she was afraid that someone
would spear her through the mat
tress some night. After that I
lay rigid in bed, waiting for the
cold point of the spear. When I
heard a noise, I would automati
cally start praying, but X was so
engrossed in listening that the
prayer would degenerate into
‘‘Our Father, Our Father, Our
Father.”
The ghosts were not dispelled
in high school, for there I devel
oped a Jeckyll-Hyde complex.
This operated even in the day
light.
Did you see the movie, “Dr.
Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,” and do you
remember when Spencer Tracy
as Dr. Jekyll leaves Lana Turner,
and, in the night fog, she sinks
down on the patio sobbing? Jek
yll, changed to Hyde, returns and
stands by her. She recog:nizes
him by his footsteps, and clasps
him about the knees. Then she
looks trustingly up into his face,
and—!!
The movie was not the start of
my complex, but it pictured well
what I felt. I would sit across the
table from someone I knew well,
and imagine his face distorting
suddenly into a crazed, cunning
mask. He perhaps would rise
from his seat sjpwly and ....
Then there was Frankenstein
and the furnace. Somehow the
furnace in our basement re
By AL. PIETS CHMAN
A trophy awarded to the men
and to the women’s living organi
zation that contributes the most
to the University is in the offing. ^
At a meeting yesterday, the man
ner in jvhich houses would be
judged was explored by a student ,
advisory committee.
The members agreed that a
point system would work out the
best—but they ran into one prob
lem—what criteria would be used
in awarding merit for various
contests, such as were held last
week in conjunction with Home
coming.
The committee was uncertain
whether to accept the decisions
rendered by judges or not as it
has so often happened that the .
judges have not picked the win
ner as the campus sees it.
It is interesting to note that it ■
will be important in the award
ing of the trophy that houses are
given credit for what they have
done—judges are too often “all ,
wet” in the campus vernacular.
We have before us a copy of
one of the sogn contest judges’
voting in the men’s contest. It is
most interesting and gives an
insight into how awards are
made.
This judge (we do not know
who it was) rated one house with
a top score of ten, five houses
with nine points, thirteen houses
with eight points and three hous
es with seven points.
Out of twenty-seven houses
judged, eighteen were given eight
points or more and twenty-one of
the twenty-seven had seven
points or more.
Needless to say, this judge
doesn’t know how to rate houses
—the other judges had a more
overall breakdown in voting, with
only two houses with ten, and
very few with six or more points.
If a truly fair all-year trophy
is to be awarded, then it is of
paramount interest in that in each
and every contest that will be
considered by the advisory board,
that the judging be done with the
utmost care, conscientiousness,
and knowledge of judging.
Until this is done, students will
have a right to question any
awards based on decisions ren
dered by questionable judging.
sembled the Frankenstein mon
ster. There was something eerie
about the old trash burner. When
I looked at it I could see a shad
owy monster, and I would tear
up the ladder-like stairs, hoping
that no one would reach between
the steps and clutch my ankles.
I prefer electric heat even now.
Don't Wait Til This Happens!
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