Page 4 University Daily Kansan, September 25, 1981
Opinion
KU a sitting duck in Tornado Alley
Suddenly the rain stops, the sky turns a yellowish-green and the titillating cybernetics lecture is interrupted by the civil defense sirens screaming out a tornado and the school students instructing; for the first time since the beginning of the semester, he is speechless.
It is a rain afternoon on the Hill. You're slouching comfortably in your chair, nearly asleep, while your computer science instructor drones on at the front of the room.
A raging tomato is making its way down Jayhawk Boulevard, and you're in a classroom on the third floor of Strong Hall to watch how students know where the building's safe areas are.
But take heart; you're in good company. Chances are that the University administrators just one floor below aren't sure to go where to in fact. In fact, because of the veiled nature of the University's tornado/disaster plan, very few people on campus would know exactly what to do in the event of a tornado.
When a tornado ripped through part of Lawrence this summer, devastated a mobile home park and killing one man, more than 400 moviegoers were literally left in the dark in KU's Woodruff Auditorium. None of the Kansas Union staff present knew what to do when the sirens went off. They didn't know because no one had told them.
Fortunately for the people in Woodruff, the path of this June's tornado did not include a trip down Jayhawk Boulevard. Neither did it involve students of Olver Hall, who were residents of Olver Hall, also did.
not know what to do when the warning sirens sounded. However, the University's good fortune will undoubtedly run out sometime, possibly resulting in tragedy.
In the wake of the summer disaster,
CORAL BEACH
questions were raised concerning the existence of a comprehensive emergency plan for the University. Those questions for the most part have remained unanswered.
University officials and various personnel made conflicting statements after the disaster concerning the emergency plan. It was unclear what person or department had the responsibility for the publication and distribution of such a plan.
In an attempt to do their part in securing the safety of the University, the staffs of the residence halls have made a special effort to inform their residents of proper emergency procedures. These staffs deserve to be commended. The list of commendations however, does not go on to include administrators and department officials.
It seems that the only concrete statement University officials can make concerning the other is that they don't want to be the ones.
not sure where it is, or what it consists of, or how to get a copy of it, or if it is up-to-date; in short, they are not talking except to assure us that there is a plan. somewhere.
The mere fact that there is an emergency plan won't be of much help to the computer science professor and his students when a tornado hits. Their classroom won't be in Kansas any more, Toto, if a tornado comes through the window, and the wizard probably won't have enough ruby slippers to send the entire class home.
Even if an up-to-date, comprehensive plan is in a file on campus, it isn't doing anyone any good because no one knows what it says. The solution, therefore, is to simply publish and distribute the plan to all University employees. Copies should also be made available to students. No reason an emergency preparedness plan should be tied up with 47 miles of red tape.
And if the plan does not exist, then one should be composed immediately. This part of the country isn't known as Tornado Alley because of the mild weather.
The plan should include basic safety procedures applicable to all buildings. In addition, it should include a set of specific building requirements allowed in each of the buildings on campus.
There was no good reason for the lives of more than 400 people to be endangered this summer in Woodruff Auditorium, and there is a dire situation to ever be repeated. If University officials ignore this problem, the entire Hill could end up over the rainbow some day.
Champagne brunch and tuxes no substitute for real 'class'
Letters to the Editor
To the Editor:
I, for one, do not claim to have any class. (Why else would I take a cheap shot at Tempell Hall?) As even as I write, I am drinking cheek beer over a dinner of fishicks and tater tats. Shades of a dinner of fishicks and tater tats come to me to a higher social strata but merely further cheapen my lowly position at or near the bottom.
Templin Hall's champagne brunch reminded me of a convention of Charlie the tunes. Such conscious attempts to secure that which by definition is too innate for such blatant acknowledgment send one's "ascent" on a downward spiral. The appearance of class (in this case, the attempt at such) is hardly the same as possessing the actual quality.
As a former resident of Templin, I am here to say that an animal house reputation is well deserved, minus any reference to a fraternity. However, I must admit, drinking 3.2 champagne in a rented tux does have a certain charm. I'm always surprised by (DRP?) will have trouble toping that one.
Thank you for the Sept. 16 story on Gung Fu. It was appreciated very much by our club.
To the Editor:
Christopher Budd Lawrence senior
David E. Ramos Leavenworth junior
History of Gung Fu
We also appreciate the Sept. 21 note by Roy Gridley, professor of English, clarifying the point about when the actual temple styles were invented. However, if he checks with other students, he is surprised that martial arts now known as Gung Fu are evident during the Shang dynasty (c. 1325-1287 B.C.).
The first evidence was found in oracle bone inscriptions and script, verifying the existence of Chinese wrestling. The source I am paraphrasing is "Kung Fu: History, Philosophy and Technique," by David Chow and Richard Soandler.
wearing animal horns on their heads and butting into each other, then grabbing and throwing each other.
Chow and Spangler wrote, "Furthermore, certain fighting movements were developed into more sophisticated combat strategies."
They go on to explain what evolved, including the appearance of Bodhidharma, the father of Shaolin Ch'u'an, in the 6th century.
That comes as somewhat of a surprise to the 45 or so students in the KU School of Law who have journalism degrees. Equality perturbed, I'm sure, are those law students with degrees in journalism. It doesn't mean that they must be very disappointed to learn that their undergraduate degrees are "imprracticable."
In a Sept. 23 column, Kevin Hellerkier seemed to
be confused by his undergraduate degree, "was required for
degree."
John Logan
Wichita first-year law student
KU journalism graduate
Perhaps Helliker should consider taking the LSAT.
Impracticable degree?
To the Editor:
In the Sept. 17 issue of the Kansan, a misconception was printed about the opinions expressed during the Iranian Student Association meeting on Sept. 16.
ISA clarifies stand
Letters policy
No one present "stressed that they would fight against the revolutionary movement in Iran." Rather, we who were present stressed the need to fight against the fascist and reactionary regime of the Islamic Republic to establish the People's Democratic Republic of Iran.
Shahrokh Azedi ISA spokesman
The University Daily Kansan welcomes letters to the editor. Letters should be typewritten, double-spaced and not exceed 500 words. They should include the writer's name, address and phone number. If the writer is affiliated with the University, the letter should include the class and home town or faculty or staff position. The Kanan reserves the right to edit or reject letters.
New French trend emerges: anything that's Left is right
By AMY HOLLOWELL Guest Columnist
Guest Columnist
PARIS—all the students believe, he said; it’s hard for them to be added, of course, to the workers believed, too.
From the size of the crowd and the volume of its cheers, it appeared that the young Frenchman was correct in his assertion that these people were sincerely Communists, and that their conviction was indeed simple. No question, they just believed.
Far from the daily urban grind, in the north Parisian suburb of La Courneuve, a packed stadium on that Sat., Sept. 12, was cheering the man they always cheer. He said nothing particularly new, just espoused more of the French communist party's characteristic of the French Communist Party (PCF) and the speaker himself, party leader George Marchais.
What was new, however, was the large, receptive audience at this "Fete de L'Humanite," an annual two-day celebration of French communism sponsored by *Rhémée*, the official newspaper of the PCE in France. She wrote to her friends each to wander through the park, sample the ideas and cuisine and generally get a taste of what France's growing political left is all about.
Mainstream seems to be what it's all about. Although the Communists are certainly more radical than recently elected President Francis Mitterrand and his major Socialist Party, this year's festival turnout was nonetheless indicative of France's dramatic new leftward swing. Eyes at the bourgeoisie, in fact, particularly the bourgeoisie, were here to participate in that trendiest of French trends: being anything but on the right.
This trend was evident at the polls last May, when, for the first time since World War II, French voters sent a Socialist president to Elysse Palace, and again in July, when they gave Mitterrand a majority in the National Assembly. This month, as the assembly goes into session, Mr. Obama said, "the 'la mode' here, and flower shops never seem to have an abundance of roses, the party flower."
Yet, despite a common preference for red and a mind set somewhere left of center, French Socialists and Communists remain markedly apart in ideology, something the Reagan administration has failed to comprehend, having virtually condemned Mitterrand's appointment of four Communists to his cabinet. The Socialists do not embrace the Marxism of the Communists, nor do they share the Communist fancy for the Soviet Union.
Indeed, the French are proud of their unconventionality in international affairs, claiming allegiance to neither East nor West, only to themselves and to their independence. Domestically, however, it has become ironically conventional to buck the conventions of the conservative French right. The reason for this is that France has long been a leftist. Like Jean jackets, poultry loafers and old rock 'and' roll, political southpaws are all the rage in Paris.
Adding to the festival's ambiguity was its unmistakable capitalist flavor. It was indeed curious that a group condemning capitalism and heralding proletarian power should charge $3 for admission, 75 cents for a can of soda, $6 for a traditional French meal, $20 for "your own" Picasso print and anywhere from $10 to $20 for hats and T-shirts bearing communist slogans. Profits from each commodity went to the particular regional PCF branch seeing them.
But last weekend, it seemed to be common issues rather than party labels that brought the record numbers to La Courneuve. Most of the festival's speakers proclaimed support for the EI movement and called on strikers, for the striking American air traffic controllers and for Poland's Solidarity.
Still, there appears to be very little substance in the substantial new movement. Communist, Socialist, Marxist, Maoist—these labels are mainly meaningless; as long as it's Left, it's right.
Perhaps the issue of the day, however, for all parties present, was a firm condemnation of America's recent decision to proceed with production of the neutron bomb. As publicized in pre-festival literature, a petition against "a bomb N," which it called "a crime against the men and women of all nations," was circulated with the intent of eventually presenting it to President Francois Picard for the festival, there was a general anti-American sentiment, typified by a banner that said, "Reagan, renegade ta hain," or "Reagan, restrain your hatred."
Capitalist communism? Not exactly, but quite unconventional communism in a country that is not capitalist.
Moreover, there was a general call for an end to France's spiraling inflation and unemployment
When asked about, for example, the inconsistency of profits at a "Marsist" festival, and about the disparate drifting of discordant ideologies in the chic new left, the young Frenchman in the stadium was at first flustered, but quickly confident with his brief response.
Aside from their predictably leftist political rhetoric, exactly what many of the festival's participants believed was unclear. There were Marxists and Maoists present, as well as anarchists, and for the first time in the celebration's history, a Socialist delegation was on hand, distributing literature and making speeches. In fact, the same stadium crowd that voicelessly cheered Marchisls warmly received the editor of the Socialist paper, "L.Unite."
"We simply believe." he said.
Such unabashed belief seems to be the current
belief. Belle in what, exactly, remains
beneath her.
(Any Hollowell is a graduate student and a KK direct-exchange scholar in Clermont-Fernandez)
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The Environmental Protection Agency must have been breathing too many gasoline fumes when it released the fuel economy ratings for 1982 vehicles.
As expected, small, four-cylinder cars,
Chevette, receive an oiling in the rafted-zone.
Leading the "worsst" list is a Maserati Quattroporte with an mpg of eight. Come on, EPA. Would someone who has enough money to buy a Maserati care what the mpg is? The owner of a $100,000 car probably doesn't even fill 'er up himself.
However, the EP made some bad choices with the gas guzzlers. The choices were: (1) running on the gas; (2) using
Be realistic, EPA. Put Dodge or Ford 19-mpg Capri and Mongoose on the worst list.
Motorists on the worst list.
Pot Shots
If the EPA's worst list included the gas guzzlers most commonly bought by consumers, maybe we would begin to believe the mpg figures.
The worst list doesn't get much better.
The worst list doesn't get much better. Other gas guzzlers include three Rolls Royce models, a Cadillac limousine and two Ferrari models.
Ferrari owners, who also are in the sixfigure car market, are more interested in pmt or bp, rather than rmp. They buy a 12-ton vehicle because it can go from zero to 100 in 12.7 seconds.
Ah. the iovs of being a junior!
I've spent two KU football seasons watching the 'Hawks from the 30- and 40-yard lines. And as I discovered during the Oregon game, we played against the 50-yard line in Memorial Stadium.
Still, some things are more important than a pleasant view of a football field. Life and work can be more important.
After two years of football games at which more time was spent ducking plastic cups and Frisbees than watching the action on the field, you are to be sitting out of range of most cup fights.
For the alumni sitting across the field on the other side of the stadium, "I'm sure the cupights in the student section are a pretty sight, like so many red, white and blue balloons.
But the impact of a hard, molded plastic cup on the back of the head, the face can be very severe. Referred to the back of the head.
According to stadium ushers and medics, injuries stemming from cup fights are rare. Yet sooner or later, rest assured, someone is going to toss a Bacardi bottle instead of a cup. And when he does, I want to be in my 90-year-old concrete section entrance and out of the way.
Indian summer in Kansas and you're stuck in grad school in New Jersey. It's a shame you can't be here. Honestly, you can almost see the air in the air about the change to autumn.
And it's coming, Greg. Why, just last week I spied the red and yellow Rocky隆 Lauren sweaters fluttering down the steps in front of Wescoe. Especially with all the advertising this year's hefted tauts and Fair Aile promise be spectacular. Don't fret. I'll send snapshots.
Dear Greg.
It's certainly high time for frost on the pumpkin, too. Here in Lawrence the Izod count has been incredible. I've never see it so bad. Frankly, it's been severe enough to force some people to stay indoors awaiting the first kissing冻。
Just imagine how bad next September will be. They really need to spray or something. Who the hell imported those weeds into this country anyhow?
I'm off to wake up corduroys in front of Mister Guy. You know me. Always longing for the house.
See you later alligator. David