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THE UNIVERSITY DAILY KANSAN
Friday, September 20, 1968
'Us folks' against 'them'
"He speaks the truth."
"He speaks straight to the people."
He speaks straight to the people,
"He tells us what we want to hear."
He tells us what George Wallace, presidential candidate of the American Independent Party, calls his supporters "us folks," carefully implying that he's just like them.
His "folks" believe that he will save the people from "them."
More than 10,000 of his folks cheered him Wednesday night at the American Royal in Kansas City, Mo.
They cheered as he told them:
"If you folks in Kansas City want to bus your children all the way to St. Louis to go to school, that's fine. But when I'm president, I'll turn back to Kansas City and Missouri the absolute control of the education of your children."
And then he talks about a law now in Congress concerning open housing. His voice grown louder as he tells "his folks" how the Congress of the United States is plotting to take away the freedom of the people to control their property.
"They're going to make a law to put you in jail if you don't want to sell your property." he tells them.
Wallace's voice shifts into a yell as he starts on his biggest selling point—law and order.
To him, as well as most of "his folks," Supreme Court Chief Justice Earl Warren almost singlehandedly caused the complete breakdown of law and order. So Wallace dates the violence in America to eight years ago when Warren was appointed.
"They ought to give it back to us for free," he says as he invokes images of an orderly pre-Warren society. "They took it away from us."
"If you walk out of this hall tonight and someone knocks you on the head, he'll be out of jail before you're out of the hospital and on Monday morning they'll try the policeman instead of the criminal," he says, his finger iabbing the air.
And on he goes until his voice becomes a scream and the audience is screaming with him and waving their arms in the air.
Buried somewhere in the maze of "they" and "us folks," Wallace always mentions, "I have never made a statement about anybody because of what they were."
"I'm not a racist," he says over and over.
I'll not a racist, the sea.
Race is not an issue of my campaign, he said Wednesday at the Kansas City airport. Although most Negroes in Alabama might argue about Wallace's statements on his lack of prejudice, Wallace's campaign is definitely not "whites against blacks" but "us folks against them."
Dots and dashes
Rumors around Capital Hill have it that Lyndon Johnson's first strong endorsement of Hubert Humphrey came only after the presidential hopeful privately endorsed Lady Bird's barbecue sauce recipe.
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The way George Wallace's campaign funds have swelled in recent weeks, the Alabamian should be first in line for a treasury department appointment.
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Perhaps there is some validity to the charge that Abe Fortas has aided the growth of pornography. Without the help of Fortas, it is doubtful that pornography would have been screened for members of the Senate.
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Columnist Max Frankel of the New York Times gives these two quotes from Hubert Humphrey. "Most of us are going to spend our time in the future.' But the politics of joy must have plummeted to a new low when vice president Humphrey was quoted as saying, 'My father used to tell me, 'most of your troubles are in your mind.'"
quotes...
"Some among us say the Negro has made great progress—which is true—and that he should be satisfied—which is neither true nor realistic."
Robert F. Kennedy
"A woman in Saranac, New York once boarded the Kennedy
family's private plane by mistake, and was taken aback to find therein Mrs. John F. Kennedy, Robert Kennedy and a number of assorted children. 'She was a very nice woman', said Robert later, 'but she thought it was very crowded for a commercial plane.'
Robert Kennedy
kansan
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"They look down their noses at us," he says and the people cheer.
"Those bureaucrats," he says and the people cheer. "Those press people and TV men," he says and the people cheer.
He simplifies the lines between "them" and "us folks," and says his people must save the country.
Wallace has transferred the race prejudice he has always been associated with into class prejudice and called it "law and order."
And ironically while calling for law and order, he is urging the people to hate "them." He whips the lower and middle classes who do not picket or riot or write angry books into the violence prevalent in America today, labels it righteous indignation and masks hate by calling it "law and order." Alison Steimel
Editorial Editor
George Wallace
the rock hound
Doors' best By Will Hardesty
The Doors' latest effort, WAITING FOR THE SUN on Elektra, may be their best album to date. It incorporates the beautifully eerie Doors' sound with some new rhythms and effects to produce one of the finest albums of the summer.
WAITING FOR THE SUN gives all of the Doors a chance to show their musicianship while performing their own songs.
The album begins with "Hello, I Love You." This song seems to show off the new attitude of the album. "Hello" still has the cocky Doors wording, but is a little more subdued, asking and their-worldly—"Hello, I love you / Won't you tell me your name?
"Love Street" can only be described with the antique phrase "nice lilting melody"—what else could you call a song which has Jim Morrison singing "la-la-la la la la-la." It gives Ray Manzarek a chance to show off his superior ability on electric piano.
"Not to Touch the Earth" is typical of the Doors' first two albums—surrealistic and Dylanesque. This gives a hint of the Lizard King theme. Originally, the album was to contain a song on the Lizard King. The song was to be the "long song" which the first two albums contained. However, it ran too long and may be an album all its own. The WAITING FOR THE SUN jacket was designed to incorporate the song with a picture of the Lizard King and the words of the song on it.
"The Unknown Soldier" inspired a movie short of Morrison being executed by a firing squad. The song is a denunciation of modern society and the war it produces and condones. "Black is white, the news is read / Television children fed / Unborn living, living dead / Bullet strikes the helmet's head / And it's all over the unknown soldier."
Kansan movie review
'Rachel' Woodward's finest
bv Scott Nunlev
"Rachel, Rachel" is Joanne Woodward's finest performance. Doing more than merely aging an American Georgy girl, Woodward creates an outstanding film heroine who is unique and yet who displays an unsettling number of universal scars.
Approaching the last half of her life, Rachel is an unloved agrarian goddess. Or rather an agrarian goddess dethroned, as drained of the divine lifeblood as any of her mortician-father's dolls.
At morning she begs for the death in sleep and at night she pursues sexual release only in order to die again. The natureland of her reveries is lush with fields and flowers—but the real streets and yards and playgrounds of her world are deep in dust.
At the film's heart (and at its most vulnerable spot), the zombie goddess dies and is reborn in the fever of a revivalistic service. The healing word is "love," of course, the operative concept of any rejuvenation. Love released within Rachel, love once lying dormant and denied.
It is only at this moment—during the rejuvenation rites—that the movie's allegory threatens to intrude. Estelle Parsons struggles valiantly with weighty statements given to her more in a role as High Priestess than as Calla, the dummy-lonely schoolteacher.
The religious service itself is only an intellectualized shadow of the familiar country meeting; but it moves quickly, accomplishes its role in the film, and should not seriously alienate the enapt viewer.
Here, as with the entire movie, it is Joanne Woodward herself who provides the fascinating characteriza-tion, the lovely-ugly life that powers the success of "Rachel, Rachel." There is not an instant of camera study of Rachel that does not reveal Miss Woodward's total control of her part. Each shy glance, each bored breath supplies flesh to the tired bones of this unloved but lovable spinster.
Rachel's triumphant reign is brief, unfortunately, herrebirth a transient if magical affair.
Flowers bloom for her in reality-men and farms and farm animals blossom too. The high summer ritual of haying finds Rachel smiling from the loft.
But this is not the world of Breughel. Eligible young men (like luckily-married sisters) today turn from the rural and vanish into the urban. And this goddess, after all, is a bit over-aged: at 35 she is caught between the chilled generation of her mother's cabal and the heated flux of the new adolescents.
Rachel ultimately is Nowhere, belonging to neither youth nor age and allowed only a short Grand Ball before her midnight.
The directing of husband Paul Newman carefully skirts the syrup-tography that many of the candy-coated exterior scenes threaten to become. With dull interior sets, Newman builds a pattern of photographic contrast that amplifies Rachel's own honey-and-gall misery.
But Newman's most successful development is his extension of the familiar flashback technique.
Not only Rachel's childhood, but her "Juliet" like fantasies as well spring with surprise-energy into the simple narrative. In fact, there is an even more subtle category of heightened flashbacks as Rachel's nostalgia colors the mere recollection of childhood scenes.
These intrusions, like gusts, sweep into the film and blow fresh oxygen into the lungs of the audience. With an unfailing taste, Newman blends revery and reality so smoothly that at points—as Rachel caresses her principal or adopts her pet student, for example—the viewer is left momentarily to his own gasps.
(If this technique can be criticized, it is perhaps on the grounds of inconsistency. Why does "Rachel, Rachel" open so well in this introspective vein and then abandon its use? Has the promise of change in Rachel been that complete, that abrupt?)
Mr. and Mrs. Newman have created a film that certainly deserves its critical praise. In many ways "Rachel, Rachel" seems to be the most successful American usage of that disjointed, life-invoking cinema usually reserved to the European New Wave.