not the
platform
It's an idea whose time has come, yata yata yata, yata,
yata. We, whole-heartedly endorse shmatza shmatza shmat
za. And so, let us either sink or ratata ratata.
Cort Fernald is the Emerald's editorial page editor. A
number of years ago he got up from his leatherette recliner
and turned off the television set. He pulled on his gray
kurt furnold
squeamish looks
cardigan sweater, with the worn patches on the elbows, and
buttoned it over his ample paunch.
He paused at the hall mirror and patted down his
thinning gray hair. For a second he forgot the face staring
back.
"I'm going out for a pack of cigarettes," he called to
Edna, in the kitchen washing the dinner dishes.
Edna came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on the
Christmas apron, walking unsteadily. By her side scrambled
her Pekinese. The dog sneezed and yapped at Cort. Cort
clenched his teeth and exhaled. So many times he wanted to
find that damn dog underfoot.
The gout had mangled her ankle. She swayed as she
walked. Cort saw a trace of that fiery beauty still alive in her
face, though the years had doused the coldfire of her dark
eyes.
"Can you remember to buy bread?" Edna said. "You're
so forgetful lately."
Cort smelled the dish soap, stale perfume, and her face
powder. Edna offered her cheek. He hated the taste of her
face powder. When he got outside he'd wipe it off his lips.
The Pekinese started yapping. Cort kicked at it as he opened
the door.
"Shush now, Fritzie," Edna scolded.
The night was warm. A gentle fog crowned the gray
buildings and softened the streetlights. A group of kids were
playing blackball on the stoop.
"Go on, get away from here," Cort growled
They edged away from the stoop as he walked through
them. A young boy, no more than four-years-old, charged at
his heels.
"Hey in yo' face, honky," he shouted
Cort rounded the corner and walked down the block as
the game started up again He thought of the mad dash
across wartorn Europe to Zurich he and Tom Eliot took in
1917. Tom had the parcel for James that Ezra had wrapped
so carefully.
"Brown shoes," Cort muttered, dodging a yellow cab as
he crossed 35th Street.
He passed a greasy-haired youth leaning in a dark
doorway. The youth was bunched up, shivering, sniffing and
scratching at pus yellow sores on his face. He was dressed in
a sleeveless black tee-shirt and frayed jeans. The youth's
black eyes followed Cort as he passed.
Bathed in the stark neon white of a liquor store window
leaned a petite blond-haired woman in a short black skirt of
wet-looking material and red fake fur jacket. She bared her
top teeth as she chewed a wad of gum tucked in her cheek,
smiling. She couldn't have been older than 15.
The youth pushed himself from the doorway and stag
gered along the buildings.
"Hey daddy, lookin’ for me?" the girl said in a weary
voice, standing in Cort's way. He tried to sidestep her, but
she slipped her hands into his pockets and took hold of him.
The youth reached into his backpocket and brought out
a short length of pipe. In one quick swing he cracked the pipe
across the back of Cort's head.
There was a sound like hamburger hitting the wall. Cort
slowly sunk to his knees, his vision clouding.
"Get his wallet, get his wallet, "the girl screamed.
"Shut-up," the youth hissed, slashing at her with the
bloody pipe, going through Cort's pockets.
Cort fell, his face smacking the cold pavement.
Something warm was running down his neck.
"Let's jam," the girl cried, grabbing at the youth. He
stood, an angry expression across his face. He kicked the
limp body and stumbled after the girl.
^ *9- Hefalump
Don’t vorry liddle Bonzo, Daddy Juz hess hiz helnte indah snow.
sally sodkicken
editor's node
In this campus constantly teaming with
life, one small enterprise has — with clarity
and intelligence — stood out: The Oregon
Daily (Not the) Emerald
Not the Emerald, in a humble display of
humbleness, takes one of its strongest
stands of the year: We totally support and
commend Not the Emerald for its high quali
ty, layout, timeliness, and relevancy to the
campus community.
In its 73 years on campus, never has Not
the Emerald been so, well, wonderful This
year’s staff will undoubtedly rise quickly to
journalism prominence and success The
photos, graphics, news coverage, editorials,
special sections attracted national attention.
All eyes are focused on this tiny but cour
ageous daily
Just one example of many stunning
achievements this year is the paper's switch
from the stale "Pea Nuts" strip to the popular
but unknown strip "Blooming Country "
After receiving an invitation from the syn
dicate to pick up the strip at $5 50 per week.
Not the Emerald graphics editor Max De
Ranged, called up the syndicate and asked
them to begin sending the strip at the
suggested rate Wow Not many students
working at college papers have the guts to
engage in such extensive negotiations
But not only has the paper provided
quality comic strips, it has also consistently
featured a front page on its front page And,
amazingly enough, the paper has constantly
put headlines on stories to alert the reader
about the contents of an article
In its fearless and relentless quest for
the truth, the Not the Emerald has consis
tently printed stories instead of leaving blank
spots in the newsprint
What more can for ask for at this price7
not the
letters
Object(ivity)
I am really getting sick of the opinionated
editorials and reviews the so-called Not the
Emerald has been printing this year Not the
Emerald seems to think, that under the guise of
"newspaper," that it can print biases in reviews
and on the editorial page Newspapers are sup
posed to present both sides, but apparently the
staff of Not the Emerald leaves objectivity at the
door when they begin writing opinion pieces Or
perhaps they have never even heard of the word
Take for instance, Cort Fernald’s recent
column on squirrels So he thinks they should be
hit by frisbees Well, that's just his opinion, I
happen to like squirrels
Another example is Gabriel Boehmer's
recent column on strange classified ads I could
think of several weird ads I have seen lately, but
apparently Boehmer just doesn’t care about
presenting both sides
Generally the Not the Emerald presents both
or all three sides in its news stories I just wish they
would inject some objectivity into their reviews
and editorials and leave the biases out of opinion
pieces
L. Chaude Pitta
Social Diteatet
The draft
What's this I hear about a compulsory draft7 I
don't think anyone has the right to tell me what I
should drink If I want to drink beer, I will If I don't
it s none of your (expletive deleted) business
I think Pres Reagan is doing one helluva job
to get government off the people's backs. 'Bout
time, I say But I can't figger (sic) out why he tries
to do something like this
As a working man I support him in his support
of the Polish workers, but making everyone drink
beer is not the way to do it Next thing you know
he'll have us drinking gin to sympathize with the
economic problems of the British
I.A. Redneck
stiff box
Not Urn Emerald N pubUahad lory April 1
by buatratad nemawrttera wanting to taka a
dndicave atab at aomabody to comet a
aUght -mat or Imagined - or fust lor grin a
Hoareay $06-3036
Hackataartng MO-5404
Taxonomy 004-3724
Fabrication MO-4153
Not Page 2 Section B
Edit Had
Sally Sodkicken
Managing to Edit Hat
Gabriel's A. Bummer
Imagining ID Edit Her
Hairy Is Steve
Assisting to Edit Her
John Squeely
Picturing to Edit Her
Bobs A. Quaker
Graphically Editing Her
Facts Derailed
E tutorial Page Edit Her
Abort Furballs
Spurts Edit Her
Heaves Lots
AeetaUng Spurta Edit Her
Deaf Snickersome
Entertainingly Editing Her
Mat's Afire
Nightly Editing Her
Gone Hunting
AuocUtUng to Edit Hr
BYOB
Divine Polyester
Communing
Marry'em Green
Comportments and Foot*
Just Another Deb
Futum
Pebbles Flintatone
Tkad Education
Cenann Chortle
Corrupt In HoOromant
G one Hunting
W<cAataaring Hractw Fabrication
DarUn Moral Ann a Haatoraon
Taxonomy Can t Control Har
Door a Ajar Jaan Ownamaa
Coorxbnatad by Oabrial boahmar and Pbtt
I amman.