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About Oregon daily emerald. (Eugene, Or.) 1920-2012 | View Entire Issue (Nov. 17, 1950)
Owem daily EMERALD .The Oregon. D«,v_E«^ Published me urewjn uAiie* j^*a*«*—. --onaay . * Tan *. Mar. 6 thru 28: May 7; with the following exceptions; no paper Oct. 30: Dec. 5 thru^a . ^u a 10 a«. Nov. 22 thru 27, and after May 24; additional pa _c»_TTr»iv#»rcitv nf Orecron. J2.n uec. j luiu ja«. rr r ., . „ office, Eugene, Oregon. Subscription rates: $5 per school year, $2 per term. UltC, Jiiugtms, --r- ' the associate editors. Unsigned editorials are written by the editor. Anita Holmes, Editor Don Thompson, Business Manager Louna Larson, Managing Editor Barbara Williams, Advertising Manager Tom King, Ken Metzler, Don Smith, Associate Editors On the Sale of Beer THIS CONCERNS US, TOO Wait a minute, you Oregon Mothers who are so actively ad vocating the end of beer sales near the campus. Stop pressuring the administration and sending telegrams to the Liquor Control Commission, and insisting that such close to-the-campus “coffee shops” as Taylor’s and The Side stop selling beer. We love you, but we want a word. Listen a minute to these precious Oregon students who are so seldom consulted when something is going to be done “for their good.” We don’t all drink beer down here. Nor do any social pres sures force us into Taylor’s or The Side or any other such fa vorite campus spot. If our mothers and fathers were strongly opposed to liquor and reared us as such—we can carry on a perfectly normal life at Oregon—go just as high in activities and just as far scholastically without ever taking a drink. So if some of you mothers don’t want your son to imbibe and he is going against your wishes here at Oregon, you and no one else have failed. Some of us do drink beer—just like one or two other adults we know. And we’ve been proud of Oregon because it has shown enough common sense and practicality to allow a cou ple of places which sell beer near the campus. We have never had to sneak off to the outskirts, of Eugene and fool anybody when we want a beer. It’s nothing glamorous or exciting to go into Taylor’s and The Side. We don t want to have to take to cars for an occasional drink. We don’t want to magnify this business of buying a beer into a challenge for any student. Too many of us are under 21 and have been partying in one place or another—not always in those places near the campus. We all need identification cards with pictures. And we need en forcement of Oregon liquor laws by both the “coffee shops” and the Liquor Control Commission. Did anyone ever think of asking us to work out an answer? We’re not such a dishonest bunch, and if given a bit of respon sibility in this question of law enforcement, we might surprise you, and find a way to keep under-age students from purchas ing and drinking this beer. Everybody worries so much about our morals—our closing hours, our manners, our partying. One rule after another has grown up until we have an unenforceable network of regula tion after regulation. And we’re opposed to being regulated to a degree unknown even in our high school life and completely alien to higher edu cation in leading Eastern and European schools. You mothers who have been pushing the administration and the liquor commission . . . surely, you’ll look at our side. And you folks who agree with us, but have been quiet through this whole affair ... why don’t you write a letter or send a wire and help us say: We’ve come to Oregon for an education and when that edu cation becomes subordinated to such trivialities as beer sales one block or one mile from the campus, we’d best go elsewhere. Dean Is a Dean Is a Dean A letter from Red China appearing on the editorial page of the Emerald, Nov. 16, was erroneously reported to have been addressed to H. E. Dean, assistant professor of political sci ence. The letter, written by a Chinese student who formerly attended the University, was sent to R. B. Dean, assistant pro fessor of chemistry. _____ _ THE DAILY to those members of the Oregon student body who, be longing to the mentally supreme, have already solved the new stack maze at the library. THE OREGON LEMON . . to instructors who are loading the Thanksgiving vaca tion study schedule fatter than a stutTed turkey—or is it duck. -Sky’s The Limit - A Grave Confession— And Slipping Knickers BySamFidman The time has come to get nasty. Admission of guilt before authori ties investigate and probe out the truth is sometimes a skin saver. This may bring about ex pulsion from the University, or embarrassing publicity if a news paper gets ahold of it. Keep this under your hat. Whatever happens, don’t let it leak out to the administration— or to the Emerald. LAST OCTOBER, I DRANK A BOTTLE OF BEER. And, what is worse, I am lay ing plans right now for another one sometime around the first of the year. It is for the purpose of celebrating the passing of the old year, and has nothing to do with receiving the new one. Of course, a previous work in favor of permitting the damnable fluid to be shipped to Yank forc es in Korea has already stamped the mark of a brandied-up, cross eyed wino on this column. It is just too evil for words. What is this smallness that comes over people ? Why are the two old, established campus eat eries being tormented so pointed ly ? Why did the inspectors swoop down like hungry buzzards and all at once become righteous lit tle angels, flitting here and there mopping up horrendous evils? What will the Side be permitted to serve Oregon’s literati—prob ably black coffee and consomme of drek. Answering that involves an an alytical investigation Of small politics and smaller pressure groups, either of which, in times like these, is enough to turn an honest man’s stomach. And where are you ? It is a filthy capitalistic plot. Because should the big close-down be railroaded through by a hier archy that is creating personal faults through suppression, only the rich, who are possessors of suitable highway vehicles, could go for a bottle Of Milwaukee sin. Back East, one college we know has a picturesque spot be side the campus where the pa tronizing students have their own personal mugs hanging on the walls. On Friday nights, and Satur days, groups will come into the place, fill up their mugs with beer, and talk politics and sing songs (that is Whiffenpoof-type action). Sounds sort of grown up does n’t it? Well, fellow Webfoots, got to wind things up here—my knickers are slipping. Re: Hash Dalsied Smile, Clasp Greet Glorious Fourth — By Bob Funk This morning is the morning if you happen to be a member of a fraternity, that you probably won’t be getting out of bed. You might not get up until this af ternoon, in fact. Maybe never. Rush week has been going on for three days. This is the glori ous fourth. On the fourth day you forget whether yours is an Ipana or a Colgate smile, or for that matter whether you brushed your teeth at all. It has, by the fourth day, become extremely difficult to remember which rushee is the one that raises hamsters, and which is the witty one who chases his grandmother with a pickaxe. There is a tendency at this point to attempt to trace your sheep-like passage to this fake smile, hand-grasping fate. To be gin with, you were born, and that might have been the first error. Secondly, you were born just smart enough to become a college entrant, and just dumb enough to enter. And you joined a fraternity— which according to the decrees set down by National (a dim, sin ister object lingering somewhere on the New York side of the Mis sissippi River), engages in rush week. We wonder if National knows or cares what it is doing to fur ther warp our souls. We wonder if the five founders (now resting well out of harm and rush wee'k's way) ever considered a fraterni ty which did not perpetuate it self by rushing, but merely died bff when the charter members graduated from college. There is little need for all this cogitation. Tomorrow will be Sat urday. On Saturday we go out to pasture. * * * What the city of Eugene needs for a Christmas present this year are some sewers that aren’t all filled up with leaves and crud— in other words, sewers that divert water from off the street and the sidewalk and the insides of your shoes and down into the under neath of things where such water belongs. £ --—Vetters— The Campus Answers Give Us Freedom Emerald Editor: I have been reading the Emer ald with quite a bit of interest these past months and doing a slow burn in the process. Today the juxtaposition of two articles seemed to me a good illustration of the University’s oft-repeated disappointment over the stu dent’s attitudes and lack of prop er spirit, and the University’s contradictory actions in en forcing old worn out rules and in venting new ones that in effect Stifle the genuine spirit and love that the students should have to ward the truly fine school. These two articles are the col umn by Stan Turnbull and the feature story about the World wide Student Congress. In this second article there is the para graph that I find especially appli cable to this school: “At th^end of this speech, the whole Cong ress with the exception of the Western delegation and the NSA observer delegation—moved slow ly forward, keeping in unison and shuuting.” Is this the sort of “spontane ous” spirit that the school wants the students to have. If the “spirit” of the Communi ist meeting is not what the Uni versity wants us to have, then why doesn’t it let the students make their own rules and regula tions—let the students have a little of the freedom and demo cratic action that we are sup posed to shout about and sign Freedom Scrolls for. Perhaps the University offici als were scared by Billy Graham this summer, but we do have to revive antiquated ideas along with dixie and jazz. A1 Staehli Senior in Architecture Mother’s Calling Emerald Editor: Just as an example of the pub licity which the University has created for itself, my Mother called me up long distance from Portland to find out if I had been one of the students expelled from school, because I live in the men’s dorm. (Name withheld by request) It Could Be Oregon • « * \ m£ “Awfully nice of you to stop by, Louise! We ve^, seldom see girls over here in the School of Engineering.”