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THE UNIVERSITY DAILY
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Wednesday, September 24, 1997
Daily Californian
A paradigm for Student Senate to use when dishing out money
he logic sheriff asked me for my paradigm
1 And I've been searching for one for about four years.
1 And I've been searching for one for about four years. I don't mean I've been searching for the meaning of life or some other ephemeral notion. I've been looking for something that's much more elusive: A hard-and-fast rule for student senate to follow when funding student organizations.
Finance committee has guidelines and rules, and it follows them most of the time. But finance shouldn't consider the merits of the bills.
Senate, however, should. Not every group deserves funding, and not every group is eligible for it. The question is how to decide who is shown the money and who is shown the door.
Student Senate gets its money from a $23 fee that all students pay.
Of that, $1.17 goes into the Senate's Unallocated Account. Each year, Senate can discretionarily spend $50,000.
The paradigm by which groups should be funded is simple: Does the group seek
Andy Obermuelter andyo@kansan.com
' Use this week's sample legislative drivel to test the paradigm:
The Italian Club, at the behest of Dominique Boucard, Fine Arts Senator, seeks $307 for office supplies, advertising, postage and duplicating. At $307,262 students who have never heard of the Italian Club should be willing to support its funding. Because no special events are being funded to woo new members, its doubtful that 262 students would be willing to shell out their student fee for this group.
The purpose of the Italian Club, and let's be honest here, is to facilitate meetings where members can speak Italian. So it can be further assumed that only students who speak Italian would be interested. A thoughtful person would question this bill on the basis of Rules and Regulations Section 7.2.5.5.2, which states the primary function cannot be academic.
Verdict: Show them the door. Let the Italian Department fund office supplies. No one else cares, unless they promise to show "The Godfather." (And I can rent that for $1.06 at Hastings.)
Proponents of Animal Liberation is a registered student group that is seeking basic funding by Senators Ana Calderon, Julie Felkner and Natalie Sullivan. The groups purpose is to raise awareness and education of animal abuse and exploitation, as well as promote vegetarian and non-violent living.
I'll bet there are at least 319 students from Western Kansas who would be annoyed to learn that their elected representatives are funding this group and not sending a contribution to the Kansas Beef Council. Proponents of Animal Liberation claims it has 40 members. Members should pool their resources for a few stamps and a stapler, instead of taking money from other students.
Verdict: Show them the door, preferably to Kinkos, where not only are no animals exploited, they can find office supplies, postage and photocopiers.
Circle of Percussive Sound is the best example of legislative hoodwinkery Ive ever seen come across the senate floor. Christine Lamble, social welfare senator, sponsored this doozy. This group has the nerve to ask for $307 to, and I am not making this up, foster a heightened level of community awareness of the communicative, medicinal and social attribute of drum circles.
To begin with, this is not the circle of anything, cause it ain't got but two members.
I'd rather fund Students for Jim Ryun than shell out a $1.17 to listen to a couple of granola types bang a drum on Wescoe Beach. Any small-niche group is worth the number of member sit has times $1.17, no more.
Verdict: Show them the door. Take your $2.34 and bang on that. Senate is not an ATM.
The Hong Kong and Macau Student Association seeks $493. This is one group that meets the paradigm check. The group has been around for years, and its Chinese New Year Celebration is a big draw, usually more than 500 students. The average student may not be Chinese, but attending this group's function is a good way to learn about something that all students may not be actually interested in, but no reasonable student can be against; another culture.
Verdict: Show them the money. They deserve it. They work hard to raise money from outside sources, and they have the biggest membership of any of the groups seeking funding, and certainly better attendance to their functions.
Other ways Student Senate will waste your money at its upcoming meeting include the Feminist Union, the Women's Empowerment Action Coalition, the Medical Ethics Club and the Jayhawk Association of Environmental Professionals.
All of these groups should be evaluated by one simple test. Would the average student give me $1.17 to vote for this?
Kansan staff
You can reach your student senators at 864-3710.
Obermueller is a Liberal, Kan., senior in journalism.
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Broadon your mind: Today's quote
"Their behavior was outrageous. Members of the sororities and fraternities involved will be held accountable. No one's getting off." --Ashley Udden, president of KU Panhellenic, on sororites "screening" fraternity members
Letters: Should be double-spaced typed and fewer than 200 words. Letters must include the author's signature, name, address and telephone number plus class and home-town if a University student. Faculty or staff must identify their positions.
Guest columns: Should be double-
spaced typed with fewer than 700 words. The writer must be willing to be photographed for the column to run.
How to submit letters and guest columns
All letter and guest columns should be submitted to the Kansan newsroom, 111 Stauffer-Flint Hall. The Kansan reserves the right to edit, cut to length or reject all submissions. For any questions, call Bradley Brooks (brooks@kansan.com) or Jason Strait (jstrait@kansan.com) at 864-4810. If you have generic questions or comments, e-mail the page stuff (opinion@kansan.com) or call 864-4810.
Raving
Records can reveal our parents' past,secret lives
I learn something new about my father everyday. I'm sure that would come as a surprise to him. It certainly did to me.
Some time ago, I inherited my dad's collection of records. It was the economical choice. I decided I'd rather spend $3 for a piece of vinyl than the $15 I had to lay down for compact discs.
Bradley Brooks
brooks@kansan.com
When I lugged those records back to my apartment in Lawrence, I didn't exactly dive into them. I judged many of them by their album art—those last two words being oxymonoric if you saw these covers. From the tacky illustration on the Johnnie
There are the darker sides of Dad in the records, too. Hank Williams Sr., whom I adore, yodels out his ballads and lets me know pops probably had the blues every now and then. He might have even had a few gulps of bourbon while listening to Williams' ultra-depressive tunes.
Ray album to the horrid picture pasted across the "Patsy Cline Story" record, I deduced that these were not going to make their way to my turntable.
Take the Joan Baez folk-music album I found in the collection. Never would I have thought my father to be one with a social conscience. Though I can't see my dad with a goatze snapping his fingers in some late 1960s coffee shop, I get the feeling he might be more of a liberal thinker than he has ever let on.
But with time, I've gingerly explored the entire collection. And, through the music, learned a little about what made my popick 30 years ago when he was listening to this stuff
Each record seems to open up new possibilities to what my Dad is. I've begun to not always laced of him as my 57-year-old, straight-laced father, but possibly as a road-tripping adventurer cranking the Roger Miller song "King of the Road."
From the smooth sounds of jazz guitarist Wes Montgomery, I envision my father as a bit of a ladies' man. A hard picture to swallow — as none of our parents have had sex — but the signs are there. I can just see dad on his bachelor-pad couch making his moves during Montgomery's "The Shadow of Your Smile." Don't worry, pop, I won't tell mom.
Oh, and the Johnny Cash albums. Treasures, each and every one. For those Cash fans out there, I inherited the prison albums. That's right—the live records from San Quentin and Folsom Prisons. These, coupled with Merle
Haggard's "Okie from Muskogee" live masterpiece, tell me what I all ready knew: Dad was a farm kid from southwest Kansas. And apparently, judging from the number of other downhome country albums, not ashamed of it.
Then there is the Chico Hamilton classic, "Man From Two Worlds." A fantastic jazz album with worldly influences. Gabor Szabo is featured on a Middle-Eastern sounding guitar, and Hamilton manhandles' the drums. Although spending the vast majority of his life in Western Kansas, this album made me realize that Dad was possibly more cultured than I thought.
Maybe I'm reading a little into this, but I think you can begin to understand a person by what they listen to. Music captures our feelings at certain times. It can expose us. It can indicate what we were thinking or, as in the case of Dad's Barbara Streisand album, not thinking at a time in the past.
So the next time you venture home, take a peek into your parents' stereo cabinet. You might be surprised by what you'll find. Locked away on those dusty old records may be the keys to secrets your parents stashed away in those years they don't tell you everything about.
As for me, I think my Dad still has some records hidden in the basement somewhere. And when I find them, you can bet I'll listen to him real close.
Brooks is a Hill City senior in journalism and an editorial page editor.
Nintendo sucks user into days of childhood
It's been three weeks since my last column, four days since I showered and 60 hours since my last social encounter. Let me explain.
I've been busy nurturing an old habit, staying up
late every night in a dark room in front of a TV screen with my hands busy working. I've got dark circles under my eyes, blisters on my thumbs and all the other symptoms of excessive video game playing.
I didn't think it could ever happen again. After all, I've never cared for computers or desired to purchase or even play one of the new 32 or 64 bit view game systems In fact, the last time I bought a video game, a 64 bit gaming system consisted of about 12 Nintendo stacked on top of each other.
Jeff Mudrick opinion@kansan.com
dos stacked on top of each other.
But three weeks ago, a gray rectangular box with two buttons, labeled Power and Reset, and a flip-top, spring-loaded cartridge compartment, appeared beside my living room TV.
But it was really there, in all its cheap, plastic splendor — an honest-to-good, genuine Nintendo Entertainment System. Not Nintendo 64, Not Super Nintendo, just plain old Nintendo.
From ages eight to 12, I played Nintendo. My parents tell me I also went to school, but I don't recall anything like that. It's strange. I can't seem to remember the capitals of the states or the names of the presidents, but the code for 30 lives on the game Contra (up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, B, A, start) has never left me.
I might never have noticed if not for the goofy organ music and my roommates' cries of "Damn you Mario!"
Surely, I have never been so dedicated to anything in my life before or since then. I didn't just play games, I was a student of the games. I studied maps, memorized codes and key sequences, and documented all secret passageways.
And ever since then, I've been reliving my youth like a 50-year businessman at a baseball fantasy camp. Because, for all intents and purposes, my youth was Nintendo.
The work paid off as I mastered game after game and earned the respect of my peers.
It was well known to all in the 66164 zip code region that when Nintendo-related questions arose,
I was the man with the answer. It was a responsibility I accented and took very seriously.
Seven days a week, from 3:30 to 9:00, my younger brother and I operated a Nintendo crisis hot line. A typical call began as follows.
Mom: Hello?
Caller: Yeah, you gotta help me. I'm in the dungeon ... level 8-4 ... Super Mario ... big dragon ... fire ... spines on the back ... I've tried everything ... What do I do?
Mom: Hold on, let me get one of the boys. Clint's busy with another caller, but Jeff will be available as soon as he heats Soda Popinski on Punch Out. Can you wait?
Caller: Uh ... I think so. But tell him it's serious this time.
It was always serious back then. And sometimes downright ugly.
My first curse words were muttered in front of the Nintendo. Countless controllers were thrown across the room and against the TV screen. And worst of all were the bitter rivalries with friends and opponents.
Many times, jealousy led my finger to depress the Reset button and erase the game of a friend whose superior play was showing me up.
It's just like the good old days, except, with no parents around to limit Nintendo time to four hours, it may be even better.
Now, almost 10 years later, it seems nothing has changed. Every afternoon, we gathered in the living room for a little 10-Yard Fight, Double Dragon or Kid Icarus. We scribbled down codes, searched for tips in old Nintendo Powers, and yes, sometimes even throw controllers.
Every kid contributed in his or her own special way and when the third trifrance was captured, Mike Tyson knocked out or the Mushroom Princess said. All shared in the thrill of victory.
Dozens would crowd into a small room furnished with one chair and bob their heads for a better view of the 19-inch screen. Some would play, others would navigate with a copy of Nintendo Power in hand, but most would just watch, offering shouts of encouragement, empathetic sighs or high fives when appropriate.
But overall, the Nintendo was a wonderful social tool with the capacity to unite kids of all ages, backgrounds and social standings in the pursuit of a common goal — to beat the game.
Mudrick is a Topeka junior in biology.
Feedback
Social Security is not facing a crisis
The Sept. 16 issue of the "Kansas" carried an insert section, the "premier issue" of a newsletter from the Cato Institute. Readers may have noticed the feature article, about how Social Security is a raw deal for young people and should be scrapped in favor of retirement accounts to be managed by individuals themselves. What readers would not know is that this infomercial is part of a long-running campaign to undermine public confidence in Social Security, a campaign that has been funded by brokerage houses, banks and financial service companies. The goal is to shift Social Security's billions to Wall Street.
As is usual for these articles, the sponsor has found a twenty something front writer to repeat well-worn cannards that have been cycling for years — that Social Security is akin to an illegal
Ponzi scheme, that the system is headed for a breakdown and that we'd all be better off in the stock market. Social Security is facing a financing problem, not a crisis. Privatizing the system would not solve the problem and would be a recipe for social insecurity.
You just can't believe everything that falls out of the paper.
David J. Ekordt Associate Professor of Sociology