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University Daily Kansan Tuesday, Sept. 16, 1958
We Need Formosa
Robert Ruark, a widely-known novelist and syndicated columnist, has come out in favor of "dumping" Chiang Kai-shek and the island of Formosa from our list of allies.
Mr. Ruark gives several reasons why this should be done, some logical, others emotional. However, Mr. Ruark's forte as a columnist is in his forceful prose and vivid writing. He presents a loaded argument, with only his side getting mention.
We should abandon Chiang, he says, because: Chiang is a warlord living past his time; Chiang isn't worth a major war; China is established as Communist and we can do nothing about it.
What Mr. Ruark does not mention constitutes the other half of the coin.
Red China, according to our government, still holds many American servicemen and civilians in prison—most of them left over from the Korean War. The United States does not propose to recognize Red China until it is satisfied all Americans are released.
The Chinese Communists came to power, partly at least, through overthrow of the former government. (During the Sino-Japanese War, Chiang and the Reds formed a coalition government of
sorts.) The State Department is less than keen on recognizing a government of force.
Recognition of Red China, and the corresponding abandonment of Chiang, would give the Communist bloc an additional vote and an additional veto power in the United Nations. Our reasoning here is pragmatic—never concede anything until you have to.
On the map, Formosa appears to be an extension of the Philippine archipelago—it is a strategic position. Loss of Formosa would open the rest of Asia and the western Pacific to the Communists.
Losing Formosa would also injure United States prestige in the entire Eastern world. Japan, Korea, and the rest of Asia would wonder who was to be the next sacrifice to expediency.
If we are to keep the trouble spots overseas and not in this hemisphere, we must draw a line. Except for military tactics, it matters little where we draw it—Formosa, Korea, or Beirut. But once it is drawn we must stand and say "No further."
If we fail, the camel has its nose under the tent.
Rain-Smudged Coeds
Pity the poor KU coed whose usual ambition to impress everyone was doused Monday by the precipitation.
This is a tragedy, really. How can a girl send the males reeling at the sight of her beauty if she has to cover it with a raincoat, storm hat and weather-smudged make-up?
It is disheartening for a male to watch the gals come dragging into class late, dripping with sky-dew and looking generally haggard—especially on the first day of school.
Maybe a law should be passed allowing females to be absent from classes when it rains, snows or when the after effects of a party still show.
Then again, maybe not. Even though rain and coeds do not mix very well, the subject does engender some interesting comments.
One fellow mentioned that there must be
thousands of "faces" running down ladies' cheeks.
thousands of "races" running down ladies cheeks.
On the same line, another guy declared that "many, many masks of discretion are being washed away today."
And a winded doll opined that the weather was sure to develop the straw look in femme hair styles.
Maybe it isn't so bad. After all, the men get to see what the girls really look like. And the girls are provided an opportunity to improve their appearances come dry weather. Also, the men are given a chance to note the "before and after" in today's brand of coeds, and thus pass judgment on the cosmetics industry.
So there is some good in having bad weather on the first day of classes even if it only makes people look a little different and more colorful.
—John Husar
Happy Parking Ahead
Congratulations to the administration for the two spanking new parking lots. It is about time something was done to relieve the miserable situation that prevailed for motorists.
We still do not accept the idea of students
having to pay parking fees on campus. However, we are afraid to clamor for a reduction as the state finance council may decide to pay for the lots out of University employees' salaries. It could happen.
-J. H.
LITTLE MAN ON CAMPUS
'WE'VE DECIDED TO MAKE AN EXCEPTION—YOU PLEDGE US AN
IT'LL BE OK FOR YOUR VALET TO TAKE YOUR PLEDGE TRAINING!
1
Short Ones
A USC professor claims our national anthem was written as a drinking song. We've always thought nobody could hit those high notes until he had a few under his belt.
A Zone was nearly empty the other night in the rain. This younger generation has no spirit of adventure.
We may run some crossword puzzles this year, if we can be sure they aren't fixed.
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pected publication Sept 17, 1910, at
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under act of March 3, 1879.
University of Kansas student newspaper
twice a week. 1908 daily, Jan 16, 1912
twice a week. 1908 daily, Jan 16, 1912
Daily Hansan
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While loafing in the apartment of my verbose friend Pug the other eve, my concentration upon a bottle label was destroyed as I heard his statement, "247 x 38ab."
A Mad Scientist Story
By John Husar
Acknowledging my obvious question, Pug blessed me with an odd look and returned to his current project, cleaning the spaces between his toes.
Said he, "My mind is in the process of making a huge decision. The events of my life may course through a different channel. I am planning to change my major."
After forcing myself out of the cuspidor, I resumed my seat on the ash tray and breathlessly breathed, "My stars, Pug, and good grief also, what in the name of Cicero could cause you to shirk your life-long ambition to pursue research in the realm of astro-botany? What other major could possibly interest you enough to divert you from your previous calling?"
"Mathematics," retorted he. "The great revolution presently enveloping the world of science has caused a loud call to be put out for intellects that are well versed in the fluid handling of numerals. So I am here! Now watch."
"Come hither all ye mathematicians, engineers, physicists, et cetera," he screamed through the hole in the wall, "and answer the call of learning."
Then he closed the window, dropped the horn on the bed and padded back to his stool where he resumed work on the toes.
"What was that?" weakly ventured I.
What was that? We recently entertained
"Why my ancient friend," warmly answered he, "that was the loud call caused by the great revolution presently enveloping the world of science. I made it up. Have to do something now that I'm out of astro-botany, you know."
"True, quite true, my amiable companion. But would it not be more beneficial to humanity had you been studying mathematics instead of doing commercials for it?" submitted I.
"Possibly," said he. "But the fact is, I am still in the public relations stage. Sort of getting acquainted with the field."
"Then is that the reason for your summons to all mathematicians and so on, of a few moments ago?" put forth I.
"Not completely," announced he. "It is my intent to cull the highways and byways for all of the advanced minds in order that I may lead them in building a bomb big enough to blow this whole world to dammation."
"How do you plan to commute your intention to all of these minds without being able to speak their technical dialect?" questioned I.
"Simply by practice, my friend, practice," quoted Pug. Then he raised himself from the stool and determinedly stalked into the rain enunciating, "48!3+12-×=66+b."
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