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Monday, February 14. 1994
OPINION
UNIVERSITY DAILY KANSAN
VIEWPOINT
Information highway a potentially bumpy road
In spite of excellent publicity, the information highway has substantial drawbacks. It offers thousands of opportunities for incredible amounts of information. By merging cable, computer and telephone technologies, America's top three providers of information will be able to offer an infinite number of services. The possibilities seem limitless. However, dangers exist.
Lately, as computers and other avenues of information have become more complex, so have the minds of America's computer deviants. "Cyberpunks" or "hackers" as they are sometimes called, are learning more every day to make the information highway a computer pileup waiting to happen.
Computers become accessible to outsiders when they are hooked up to a network via a modem through a phone line. To benefit from the information highway as it is hypothesized, one would need his or her television, phone and computer all hooked up to such an outside line. This makes that person's home vulnerable to those who would master the technology for their own benefit by raiding files, stealing software or implanting computer viruses for their own amusement.
Computer hackers have broken into the Internet, an internationally-accessible computer system. The hackers broke the codes to individuals' files and read and/or erased letters. This computer robbery could be devastating to businesses and government agencies.
The information highway is a good idea. It has the potential to offer millions of avenues for entertainment, education and practical work applications. It also has a downside that needs to be examined at length. As long as there are those who have the ability to sabotage and loot from their basements, we must check our blind spots and drive carefully as we move on to this highway.
CARSON ELROD FOR THE EDITORIAL BOARD
New smoking laws make it hard to do business
Once again, Philip Morris Cos. Inc. finds itself in court, its home-away-from-home. However, this time the tobacco giant is acting as a moderating voice rather than a radical extreme.
Philip Morris sued San Francisco over its new, antismoking city ordinance. The ordinance, which took effect Feb. 1, bans smoking in offices and factories and calls for a ban on smoking in all restaurants and bars by next year.
For several years, the nation has undergone a smoking "reform" by mandating "no smoking" areas in restaurants, offices and other public places. Most of these changes were made with good intentions.
However, good intentions often go too far. The San Francisco ordinance goes beyond helping non-smokers. It looks to punish smokers and hurt businesses. Smokers should have the right to smoke if the smoke does not interfere with others.
Businesses also should have the right, if they choose, to let people smoke at their establishments. City Hall should not dictate such extreme smoking laws to businesses. As Philip Morris' attorney said, "If every local government took it upon itself to issue varying workplace regulations, it would be impossible to do business in this nation."
Smokers do not deserve to be the scapegoats of every city council. The government should let common sense prevail and let smokers and non-smokers peacefully coexist.
RICHARD BOYD FOR THE EDITORIAL BOARD
KANSAN STAFF
BEN GROVE, Editor
LISACOSMILLO, Managing editor
TOM EBLEN General manager, news adviser
BILL SKEET, Systems coordinator
JUSTIN GARBERG Business manager
JENNIFER BLOWEY Retail sales manager
Aest Managing Editor ...Dan England
Assistant to the editor...J.R. Clairborne
News ...Kristi Fogler, Katie Greenwald
Todd Selfert
Editorial ...Colleen McCain
Nathan Olanon
Campus ...Jesse DeHaven
Sports ...David Dorsey
Photo ...Doug Hesse
Features ...Sara Bennett
JEANNE HINES Sales and marketing adviser
Business Staff
Campus sales mgr ... Jason Eberly
Regional sales mgr ... Troy Tawerley
National & Coop sales mgr ... Robin King
Special Sections mgr ... Shelly McConnell
Production mgr ... Laura Guth
Gretchen Kotterheilnch
Marketing director ... Shannon Reilly
Creative director ... John Carlton
Classified mgr ... Kelly Conneally
Tearsheats mgr ... Wing Chan
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Cynic turns over a new leaf and looks forward to Valentine's day
St. Valentine's Day is upon us once again.
Usually, this would signal that it was time for the cynic in me to take over and complain for hours on end about what a stupid "holiday" this really is.
My traditional St. Valentine's Day ritual has been to dress all in black, scoff at romance and rain on the parades of those who actually enjoyed this holiday o' love.
I had this theory that St. Valentine's Day was a hoax, that St. Valentine himself had never existed.
My theory was wrong. St. Valentine did exist. He was martyred, beheaded actually, around A.D. 270 because of his Christian beliefs. Kind of morbid that a man who had his head whacked off has become the international symbol for love and romance. huh?
Then I said that St. Valentine's Day actually had been created in some dark meeting place far, far away by a group of money-hungry greeting card company executives. This version was more cynical than the first, and that suited me just fine, thank you.
What is it a celebration of, anyway?
Sure, it's a great holiday for those people who happen to be in love or lust or whatever — but what about the people who have no one to love around the 14th of February? What are they supposed to do?
You'd get the afternoon classes off to have a party. It was great. You'd make your snazzy little Valentine box in art class and put it on your desk to hold your (preferably Gärfield or Snoopy) Valentines. And there were treats — fruit punch and all the cookies you could get your greedy little pre-pubescent paws on.
The best part was that EVERYONE got a Valentine. It didn't matter who you were, you got Valentines from everyone in the class. Those were the rules. That way, nobody would feel
neglected on St. Valentine's Day. That was good, as were most things in grade school.
There aren't any rules now. Your professors don't have St. Valentine's Day parties or make it a requirement that everyone gets a Valentine. No treats and no guarantees.
Those who don't have a significant other, or for that matter, any other on St. Valentine's Day get to watch all the festivities alone. This was one of the reasons I was vehemently opposed to "V-Day."
Something else that always had bugged me was how couples treated the "holiday." How seriously do most couples actually take it? Is it the one day that people really show their partner how much they care?
Apparently, the most popular way to show how much you care for your partner is to buy some flowers and a box of condoms. This is according to a checker at Dillons who has spent many a St. Valentine's Day ringing up roses and Trojans. Nothing like good old-fashioned romance.
It also kind of bothered me that there was a specific day assigned to show someone that you care. Shouldn't that be happening every day any-
way? Oops — the idealist in me is trying-
to sneak out again. Sorry.
Yes, I used to be violently against everything even mildly connected to this seemingly useless holiday. I say "used to" because I'm trying to turn over a new leaf. From now on, I'm going to try to have a positive attitude toward St. Valentine's Day.
You see, I recently decided that I'd had enough of my cynical outlook on romance. It just got old. I mean, how long could I have gone on complaining about how much love sucked? Possibly forever, but like I said — I'm turning over a new leaf.
This year I'm going to look forward to St. Valentine's Day festivities. My cynicism no longer will get in the way of those who truly enjoy the celebration of St. Valentine's Day. There will be no more dressing in black, no more scorn for those in love and no more denouncing the traditions accompanying this holiday.
That's right, there will be nothing but optimism and romance for this girl. And maybe — just maybe — I'll even like it.
Danielle Raymond is a Wilmotte, III., junior in Journalism.
Growing up won't split true friends
A few days ago I called an old friend from Wichita.
He is still my best friend
The last time I talked with Mike was during Thanksgiving break.
I wanted to talk with him pretty badly, so when he wasn't home, I tracked him down at his girlfriend's house.
Her father called Mike to the phone, and I said, "Hello, Mike Orth, this is the FBI."
Despite his extremely paranoid personality and the fact that I only had talked with him three times since August, he immediately recognized my voice.
We fell right into conversation. It was almost as if I still lived in Wichita and spent most of my free time hanging around his kitchen eating all the Ritz crackers. Time apart meant nothing.
It is almost impossible for me to picture Mike as a father. This is the same guy who used to tell people that he was Papa Smurf. Sometimes I feared he believed it.
Then he told me that his daughter was walking. Father Time appeared beside me, thumped me on the head and said, "You ain't no kid no more."
The fact that I only have seen his
daughter, Briana, once or twice since she left the hospital does not help me cope with Mike being a daddy.
She is a cutie, though. She looks just like him, flaming orange hair and all. Scary.
Mike is a true friend. He has seen me at my most psychotic, most depraved, most depressed, most looney and most drunk. Often in the same night. He talks to me anyway.
I have nearly killed him twice. Once was in a spectacular wreck that was a textbook case of how not to park a car in a stranger's muddy yard at 70 mph. The other time I was in a drunken stupor and tried to throw him into the rain-swollen Arkansas River because he had spilled my beer. When I fell in instead, he had to fish me out. I was not cooperative.
He has never held this or a thousand other stupid, impulsive things I have done that have resulted in injury to one or both of us against me.
He has helped me clean my house after parties, helped me clean my car before dates and helped me clean up my act.
This is a guy who would sit with me on his roof at 2 a.m. in 30 degree weather just because I needed to talk
This guy knows enough about me to have me arrested and possibly deported.
He has never even tried to blackmail me. Much.
I know I probably will never live in Wichita again if I can find any way to avoid it. I know that is probably where he will live. We never again will be able to shoot pool till 3 a.m. five days a week.
I had other friends in high school, but I have lost track of most of them. I don't miss them, either. I miss Mike sometimes.
Mike is getting married in May. It will be the final blow to my attempts to hold on to my childhood. A wife brings new responsibilities, and we never again can be the carefree wild maniacs we once were.
I wish him all the luck in the world,
and I hope that Beth always will make him as happy as she does now.
The visions two teen-agers have of the future while sitting on the curb swigging "Southern Comfort" seldom are true.
I never could have foreseen the beautiful woman that came into my life or the education that would carry me far away. Mike, the man who survived on Quik Trip microwave food, never dreamed he would be settling down in a few years with a precious daughter and a lovely wife.
We swore that we would never grow up. Both our girlfriends say we haven't. The world grew up around us, though, and pulled us along kicking and screaming.
Sometimes this grown-up reality gets a little too intense for me and tears me apart. I can always count on Mike to put me back together.
A friend like Mike is rare. If you even have had a *true* friend, you know what I mean. Treasure that person.
The miles can stretch the bond of friendship, and time can fray it. But nothing can destroy it, not if it is real.
Jacob Arnold is a Wiehita junior in journalism.
LETTER TO THE EDITOR
Manager of health store mistaken about penicillin
I am writing this letter in response to an article concerning homeopathic medicine that recently appeared in the Kansan. First of all, I am a proponent of homeopathic medicine; however, I am also a student of pharmacy. Hence, I must take exception to the comments put forth by Peter Schultz, former herb manager of the Wild Oats market. (The day this article appeared, I
called Wild Oats to talk to Schulz, only to find that he was no longer with the company.) Barring any misquotations, Schultz made two false statements.
The first claim is that herbs are better cures than penicillin because herbs are all-natural, not manmade. From this, I assume that Schultz isn't much of a medical historian, for if he were, he would have realized that penicillin first was isolated from a broth culture that had been contaminated with a certain mold,
something every bit as natural as an herb. Even today, penicillins are made on a large scale by fermentation.
Second, Schultz claims that penicillins are worthless due to the number of resistant viruses. Well, Mr. Schultz, in case you hadn't realized, penicillin aren't used to treat viral infections, but bacterial infections. They work by inhibiting the synthesis of the bacterial cell wall, a feature unique to bacteria. Cheers, however, to Hal Sears, herb and
vitamin manager of the Community Mercantile for refraining from propagating any obtuse medicinal claims about herbal medicine and also for realizing the importance of modern medicine.
Jeremy C. Holt
As pharmacists, or eventual pharmacists, we have enough problems with misinformation, and I believe that it behooves the two The Kansan and future herb managers not to exacerbate these problems.
Toneka senior