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About Oregon daily emerald. (Eugene, Or.) 1920-2012 | View Entire Issue (Nov. 9, 1949)
2 FlunkaCourse,Geta Dollar With mid-terms crashing all around, we are inclined to look with favor upon a plan instituted at San Francisco State College. It is a flunk insurance system, sponsored by a jour nalistic fraternity. All students are eligible for the insurance —the higher the scholarship record, the lower the risk and premium. The average student pays 50 cents for coverage on a par ticular course. If he flunks, he gets a dollar, with which he may buy beer to cry in. Of course, that brings up the question: How many courses are worth a dollar? Or perhaps, the more diplomatic way to word the query: Is one dollar the correct amount to estimate the value of the many worthy courses being taught? Or better still: Can the value of courses be measured in monetary terms? And then naturally, many students after flunking a course could pass the buck and say, “I just flunked it for the dollar. RxUlintf, Kane. Our Nice, Clean State by cMensiy fCatte Oregon politicians should be ashamed of themselves foi not keeping up with their brethern in other states, hoi example. No Oregon educational institution has lost its accreditation because of political scandal, nor would a distinguished visitor to our law school say its students are taught to take a bribe and call it a fee. Our politicians are so benighted that they did not give an insurance company millions in municipal property on which to erect a housing project while denying a minority of the city s taxpayers the right to live in it. And no Oregonian would have reason to say that a lobbyist has more power than the governor. We also doubt that there would be consternation in the legislature if an executive order decreed that appointees to state positions would not be con firmed if they had criminal records. Oregon’s condition of comparative political virtue is all the more remarkable when one examines a report on other states of similar size and position; “Our Sovereign State,” edited by Robert S. Allen, (syndicated columnist, 413 pp., $5. Vanguard Press, 1949). For the most part the charges of incompetence, venality and worse are true. But the exclusion of Oregon from the com piliation indicates that a state may be run honestly and effi ciently even by the ipso facto bad rural Republican legislator who still considers it wrong to live beyond one’s means. “Our Sovereign State” makes juicy reading for those who like their scandal well-served, unauthenticated and just this side of libel. Seriouslv, its implications are that the states are in a de cline and the federal collectivist state in the ascendent because the voters, you and I, are not fulfilling our duty. It is less true in Oregon than some other states, but we have considered politics either a dirty business or one to be left to the “leading elements” if we are of the aristocratic per suasion. The voters could more or less get away with that attitude when politics didn't seem to affect our lives. 1 his doesu t hold true today. Politics permeates everything we do from the right to make a living, the fifty per cent tax making up the price of the pack of cigarettes we buy, and how little of our income we are per mitted to keep for ourselves. To be crass about the lesson of Air. Allen’s anthology, if the average voter doesn’t take a more active interest in politics, politicians will no longer he the instrument to effect our de sires. They will be the manipulators who pull the strings of we, I I l V |'U|'|'V The Oregon Daily Emerald published daily during the college year except Sundays, Mondays, holidays and final examination periods by the Associated Students, University of Oregon. Subscription rates: $.1.00 a term, $4.00 for two terms and $5.00 a year. Entered as second class matter at the postoffice Eugene, Oregon. IVo/A~ Smith? __Tn*W Mimxm'ou. »".<■'»>•■« Wggggr; (;t r\\ (:• ■ i' ■ .. i: Harimka llvv\vtHM>. Hki.kn Siiikm.w, .-Isscihitr luiit^rs, Cork Mobi.kv. AJ:rrtisiuij \f ami art_ JS’ews Editors: Anne Goodman, Ken Mctzler. Assistant News Editor: Mary Ann Delsman. \ fatin' At tlan&osn Listen to the Ball Game <; On the Radio-Six Reasons 1 by jfa Gilbert Here before you is an entirely unique per sonality. There is no other creature like it— an Oregon student who wasn’t in Portland this past week-end. From the rumors and bloodshot floating about the cloister, though, I can well imagine it was well spent. I even heard that a few people found themselves at the football game—whether or not they saw it is a moot point. However, I didn’t do too badly—I did lis ten to the broadcast. From the announcer’s standpoint, the highlight of the entire game was the drum majorette, Gloria. On sober reflection though, I can see much merit in listening to a game over the radio as opposed to the scramble of charging through a mad pack of Ducks to get some semblance of seating arrangement. My gripes? Okay, here they are: 1. To begin, I usually go with a husband. Flence, in an unearthly chant I hear the word “Pigger” floating around. 2. The married students have the lousiest place of all for actual visibility. I think most of the posts are at that end of the field. This leads to gripe number 3. 3. I can't see the game unless it is held frankly on the goal line. 4. Someone taller than I is usually standing in front of me, while some over enthusiastic joker behind me is beating his fists upon my poor battered brow. 5. Fans are being squeezed together like no self respecting sardine would stand for. 6. If you think it's hell getting into a game, just try to get out. Conclusion : Much, much better sitting be fore a radio, having the announcer tell you what the score is, and quietly sipping cider. Nevertheless, I'll probably gather my coin age in my grimy little paws and start plan ning plays to effect an entrance to the Ore gon-Oregon State fray. Again, I will un doubtedly leave swearing “nevermore!” What fools these mortals be! Yes, Oregon has had it tough. The breaks just aren't going the way of the Ducks. Lose the last few games, and then Coach Aiken gets his car stolen. But then too, the student body has its problems. Some unsympathetic profs, who believe that one is here for an edu cation more than rally-rally, opened classes Monday morning with tests. And if one thinks that’s bad, we have the problem of the unclean Millrace; the political pot is begin ning to boil; house dance problems and the need for a good Homecoming showing—all these weighty things take possession of our minds. What has the U.N. got that we haven’t—besides Vishinsky ? However, I do know a individual without problems of any sort. Our cat, Kelly. She gets her two squares a day and a place to sleep. She doesn't have to worry about income tax. Who said animals were dumb ? Sofbliamae Wildtam Column RighN-ROTC Drill You're in the Army Now by Rob tyotih. ROTC drill is a splendid exercise for those secretly enamoured of martial music and kha ki uniforms. The uniforms, unhappily, are usually two or three sizes too small—or maybe “drillees” just eat too much lunch on drill days. Any way, by the end of drill there is an uncomfort able clutched feeling around everyone’s mid riff. Most arresting are the figures cut on rainy days, when raincoats are worn. These give everyone the look of being about to pro duce many and various children in the dan gerously near future. There is one rather perplexing feature about drill—roll call. It seems that no matter how many persons are absent, the spokes re port to the hub that all are “present and ac counted for." This is an out and out lie. There are lots of people who are by no means pres ent. and not, insofar as we can determine, ac counted for. Right now drill periods are spent in learn ing facings, columns movements, and horri ble frustrations. Facings are the most fun. One is maneu vered directly over a dandelion or a gopher hole, and then asked to pivot in some direc tion or other. This cannot be accomplished with the greatest of natural grace on top of the aforementioned obstacles. As a result, there are usually several persons who fall ap proximately fiat on their faces in the midst of much good-natured laughter. Column movements are much more com plicated than facings. They entail everyone doing things at the same time, which is being definitely proven to be impossible. Orders for column movements are all given in colloquial Greek. There is one which sounds like “have a plate of artichokes!” whi«h is a delightful but perplexing invita tion. Another goes “column right, lurch!” It isn’t anything like that at all. of course, but it usually turns out that way in the end. A comparatively unimportant point is changing step, which is accomplished by kicking yourself in the shin of one foot with the toe of the other. This is something like the polka, only without music. 'I here is music however, even if it isn’t too sharp for polka-ing. One of the more common marches is the one commonly known as “I Love a Billboard (or Theta, depending on your tastes), I Always Will.” Another is go ing to sound very much like the “Stars and Stripes Forever" when it gets worked out a little more. In fact, everything is going to be much better at the end of the term, we’re told. 1 hey will be. There will come a day when everyone pivots in all the gopher holes with perfect precision, when the entire outfit gets the hang of ancient Greek. And how will vou have your plate of artichokes—fried?