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Thursday, August 26, 1971
University Daily Kansan
KANSAN comment
Kansan Seeks Feedback
This is the University Daily Kansan.
It is a student product. Students write the copy, edit for errors, make all major policy decisions, control the money—and generally perform all those functions required of any newspaper staff.
This is all done on time between class—and in the shadow of finals.
The paper makes no claim to perfection. We will make mistakes, more than any of us would like to admit
We will, on occasion, vilify,
congratulate and ruminate on your
temporary home, and our reason for
existence—The University of
New York.
Our news columns will reflect what you and several thousand like you do and say here. This newspaper is written in many distinct, various and sundry factions,
elements, living groups and lifestyles. For that reason you are to whom we ultimately look for our centenary and once in a while probation.
If you think what we're doing is so much bull—let us know. Write, or better yet come down to the newsroom in Flint Hall and yell at whatever staff member happens to be there crramming for his 10:30.
it is not worth it, if we spend the
year screaming in an empty room.
Men in the business have a saying about the good newspaper—"A good newspaper afflicts the comfortable and comforts the afflicted."
If we ignore you, tell us, and we'll listen. If you have something you've written and think it's worth discussion, bring it down.
If we can approach that goal it will be a good year.
—Tom Slaughter
Too Cold to Freeze
The effects of the President's wagprice freeze on KU will most likely be so insignificant by and large they will not be noticeable. The effect of wagprice a budget that
It's hard to freeze a budget that was frozen long ago.
The consequences of earlier budgetary maneuverings by the Kansas Legislature and the Board of Regulations will be noticed by returning citizens.
As they have tried to make crystal clear in the past, the Kansas Legislature and the Kansas board of educators have worked about how students should behave.
Unfortunately, the Legislature and the Regents set terribly bad conditions.
Already infamous is the most recent session of the Legislature where the pros and cons of bingo seemed to be their raison d'etre, and things like higher education and welfare were dealt with quickly with sharp cuts of the budget paring knife.
The Regents, taking the lead from the Legislature recently went to work on the requests from the state government with a letter with equal hangman's enthusiasm.
It is these cutbacks that will most directly affect the KU student and his education, not the recent edict from Washington.
Faculty members don't have to worry about the freeze because the freeze is in the student body.
salaries at last year's level.
When the freeze ends, KU's salaries will still be located on the dim end of the spectrum, and some of our best teachers and administrators will be looking else where for jobs.
Classified employees at the school too have already lost their July 1 merit increases, and like faculty members the freeze will only serve to bind them longer to inadequate salaries.
For the student who is paying a tuition increase the picture is no brighter. Treasury officials say that increases announced before the freeze will not be reduced to previous levels.
So the economic picture of the state schools remains bleak, freeze or no freeze. Some relief in the way of stable costs could be expected, but since most purchases are made on contracts signed before the freeze went into effect relief in this area will be negligible also.
The Kansas Legislature could do something to restore the needed support for higher education in the next session, but Vern Miller found some slot machines in an American Legion post.
This may seem like a non sequitur, but if the Legioneers are ruled against in an appeal, the prime issue of the next legislative session will be
—Mike Moffet
'How should I know what goes on in there! I've never looked inside the thing?'
Celebrate Another Day of Living
Welcome back. Though it may not seem like it.
No, there is no Grand Conspiracy to prevent you from enrolling in this much-debated University. For the returnees the process may seem a little more complicated or a little more strenuous because of the walking from here to there to never-never land with a few long lines on the way.
And new students undoubtedly will be impressed with the complex ritual that permits 18,000 people to go to school and at the same time instil a subconscious love for art.
But, somehow this year I find myself enjoying this minor insanity. Perhaps it is because I am a senior. The things we think we enjoy least sometimes are the
I am always frightened by the feeling that my life is slipping away from me, that I have not wrung the last ounce of pleasure from moments that are passed. Or passing. But time is a thing not to be possessed by men so we must play the game to suit its rules and take or give what we can in passing.
So perhaps enrollment is not the purgatory it seems. It is a piece of life and therefore a thing much to be admired.
A strange condensation hence these days.
I did not mean to be so philosophical in this first offering of mine. Some may
called it maddun. But I have always thought we are too formal here in these hallows of halls for higher learning. A bit of the human touch is needed to offset the clatter of computers, to take the stink out of that cool secretarial stare at the end of a tiring line, or to just brighten the day a bit.
A few years ago this newspaper received a letter from a young man who said his day had been resurrected (so many of the ordinary ones are that way) by a young coed who had dared to smile at him on a deserted walkway one afternoon.
I was always impressed that a smile had meant so much that he would go home and write someone about it. But Life is that way. Small things that add up to consume our days, to make some happy, to leave some empty, to roll away into memory.
There is so much to be enjoyed. It only takes a little effort. A smile for a stranger, a helping hand in a crowded line. Patience with people who have so much to learn can bring joy.
Enjoy enrollment in spite of its distractions, its frustrations, its mugging worries and seeming inefficiency. And make it a good semester. It will never be
-David Bartel, Editor
James J. Kilpatrick
A Sense of Place, Space, Time
SCRABLE, Va. —What is it that binds men to the country life? Three things. I think. A space, a space, a space, a heightened sense of time.
I am still new to these old mountains, and offer the explanation unsurely. We have not seen where there may be no basis for these reflections anyhow. Our nation shifted in time from a forested, rural predominantly urban, and the trend to the cities has gained momentum ever since. My own experience of living in every census since 1890. on this evidence, fewer and fewer persons feel "bound to the earth."
James J. Kilpatrick is one of several well-recognized volunteers who will appear on this page to comment on the decision by Mr. Kilpatrick, former editor of the Richmond News Leader and has considerable expertise in presenting the conclusion of Washington happenings.
Yet there must be something to the proposition. Not only in the South, but in New England, this is why the most, the thvest, a traveler encounters the same mystic bond among men who dwell close to their land. It is not that the people have an injective impressions, but I have a notion that country people by and large are happier than their city neighbors, so they themselves. By urban standards, their lives may be empty; but the emptiness is somehow richer.
THESE ARE meditations for a summer's end. They emerge from that keen awareness of the world around them, which keeps its steady beat in the
rural heart. Men say of the factory and the office that a great many days seem "just the day I ever happen." And this is true, of course, of life in farming country. Yet there is always that rhythm, and it is always present. The flower bursting seed, the nesting bird, the ripening water. Watermen will understand what I glove to say;
Here in the Blue Ridge, it is a time for harvesting early apples, a time for cutting the last hay, a time for putting corn to silage. You can eat it or substitute other areas to substitute their own chronology. On every farm it is constantly a time for something. We awake now and then to the distant snarl of power. And we know that already the nights are cold. The
ponds at dawn give off the pale grey breath of autumn just ahead.
this is peking time in the kitchen, a time of reishes ruby red and emerald green, of peaches cast in rusty gold. How does one measure life's achievements? In works of art and monumental Maestro Mayrs? The full life itself is endless ways.
It is not a sense of time alone that casts its spell. There is also, I suspect, a sense of possession, a sense of great historians and psychoanalysts of the South-Cash, Percey and Ward, Rubin—used memorabilia from their Southern character, and for a long time I supposed we Southeners had a monopolio on them. You hit the same love of place
in the plainsman and the Yankee and the rancher.
TO LIVE in a great city has its good points, but a sense of permanence is not among them. A man may have pride to be, he says, "going to the apartment," but he knows an uneasy apprehension that by tomorrow it may be somebody else's shopping center. How many structures are there? He might have seen in that city a hundred years ago? Pitiful few, I suppose. But the countryman, scuffing his boots in the good weather, has been there forever. "My land," he says. "This is my place."
"Man is a social animal," said Spinola, and no one doubts it. The country can be marvelously rich. It has all the money will tell you who has just come
from the Amissville fair. but at a deeper level, man is an anti-architecture fan and one of the institutions of the city are rooted in the swarm-crowd; one can be lonely in the city, but one is sadism, in any absolutely sense,
It is better here in the hills. Our
stars are not so brilliant as those of
Arizona, but they suffice. Here one
knows space by night and day,
the wise free from fear in a imageless sky.
Space, and place, and time—
these three: end; and one learns a
countryman's lesson in the yellow
hill. With a shovel, shuffling, shivery chill.
There is no end, and no beginning
either.
(C) 1971 The Washington Star Syndicate.
Griff and the Unicorn
THE UNIVERSITY DAILY KANSAN
An All-American college newspaper
By Sokoloff
Kansan Telephone Numbers
Newroom--UN 4-4810
Business Office--UN 4-4258
Published at the University of Kansas daily during the academic year except holidays and examination periods. Only students in grades 10-12 and attending law at Lawrence, KA 60044. Accommodations, goods, services and national advertisement offered to all students without regard to letter, reed or national origin. Opinions expressed are not necessarily intended to reflect the views of the author.
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"Copyright 1971, David Sokoleff."
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