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
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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.”