4
Wednesday, April 6, 1988 / University Daily Kansan
Opinion
THE UNIVERSITY DAILY KANSAN
Student workers at Watkins needn't be victims of rumors
Rumors, Perceptions. Images. It's hard to know what's behind the words that float through campus from time to time
At Watkins Hospital, though, the question is not what's behind certain rumors, the question is what's in the future for them. A particularly elusive rumor now has Watkins officials fretting, and the answer seems to be to stop it with something rock solid: cash.
Whispers are circulating that student workers at Watkins are endangering patient confidentiality. Hospital officials categorically deny that they have ever had a single complaint.
Yet those same officials have proposed to the Student Senate a $2 increase in student health fees to put an end to what James Strobl, director of student health services, calls a "perceived problem."
Senate will decide whether to increase fees by $10 to cover routine costs and not address the issue, or to increase fees by $12 and use the difference to replace student workers with fulltime employees.
If Senate approves the $12 increase, $2 from every student at the University of Kansas — roughly $50,000 — will be used for image-boosting. Fifty thousand dollars of students' money will go to convince those same students that it's safe to use Watkins services.
Watkins Hospital has been quite concerned with its image in recent years. It has taken steps to make itself more attractive and accessible to students. The move to get rid of student workers is an attempt to reassure students concerned about confidentiality, but it is ill-thought-out and ill-advised.
Irony pervades this well-intentioned but misguided move. The hospital wants to use student money to take jobs from students. If Senate approves the $2 increase, those students will lose their jobs to a rumor.
Katy Monk for the editorial board
A mere three months after Jimmy Swaggart admitted to sinning with a prostitute, the television evangelist plans to resume preaching. A lawyer for Swaggart recently announced that Swaggart would return to the pulpit May 22.
Money is first with Swaggart
Add insult to hypocrisy.
And his primary motivation is money. Swaggart is not concerned that his "flock" will stray if they are robbed of his preaching for a year; he is afraid that his wallet will grow too thin.
After being confronted in February about his meetings with a prostitute, Swaggart admitted to "specific incidents of moral failure" and said he would stop preaching for an indefinite period of time.
Assemblies of God elders in Louisiana ordered Swaggart out of the pulpit for three months, but the national church's General Presbytery overruled that penalty, saying it was too lenient. The national officials ordered a one-year ban and recommended that Swaggart take part in two years of rehabilitation and counseling.
And to add to the hypocrisy, Swaggart himself had supported the one-year exclusionary rule several months ago in his own magazine, the Evangelist.
For defying the mandated yearlong ban, Swaggart will probably be kicked out of the church, but he doesn't seem to care. In fact, he appears to have been preparing for just that eventuality by ousting associates who would like to see him face tough punishment.
The Assemblies can do without Swaggart. He contributes only about $12 million a year to the Assemblies of God's foreign missions.
But Swaggart's own personal ministry brings in about $150 million a year. That's $150 million that goes to Jimmy Swaggart. If he had stopped preaching for a year, his personal ministry would have crumbled and it's doubtful that his charisma alone would have paid his bills during a year out of the public eve.
Alan Player for the editorial board
By planning to resume preaching so soon, Swaggart has made it clear that he cares more for his bank book than for those to whom he is supposedly teaching the word of God.
Editorials in this column are the opinions of the editorial board
The editorial board consists of Alison Young, Todd Cohen, Alan Player, Jody Dickson, Katy Monk, Van Jenerette and Russell Gray.
News staff
Alison Young...Editor
Todd Cohen...Managing editor
Rob Knapp...News editor
Alan Player...Editorial editor
Joseph Rebello...Campus editor
Jennifer Rowland...Planning editor
Anne Luscombe...Sports editor
Stephen Wade...Photo editor
Richard Stewart...Graphics editor
Tom Eblem...General manager, news advisor
Business staff
Kelly Scherer ... Business manager
Clark Massad ... Retail sales manager
Brad Lenhart ... Campus sales manager
Robert Hughes ... Marketing manager
Kurt Messersmith ... Production manager
Greg Knipp ... National manager
Karl Suboona ... Traffic manager
Kimberly Coleman ... Classified manager
Jeanne Hines ... Sales and marketing adviser
Letters should be typed, double-spaced and less than 200 words and must include the writer's signature, name, address and telephone number. If the writer is affiliated with the University of Kansas, please include class and hometown, or faculty or staff position.
Guest columns should be typed, double-spaced and less than 700 words. The writer will be photographed.
The Kansan reserves the right to reselector edit letters and guest columns. They can be mailed or brought to the Kansan newroom 111 Staffer Fell Hall.
Letters, guest columns and columns are the opinion of the writer and do not necessitate the approval of daily Kansan Editors. The options are the Kansan editorial board.
The University Dally Kanan (USPS 650-40) is published at the University of Kansas, 118 Stuffer-Flint Hall, Lawn, Kanon, 60045, daily during the regular school year, excluding Saturday, Sunday, holidays and final periods, and Wednesday during the summer session. Second-class postage is paid in Lawrence, Kanon, 60044. Annual subscriptions by mail are $50. Student subscriptions are $3 and are paid through the student activity fee.
POSTMASTER: Send address changes to the University Daily Kansan, 118 Stauffer-Flint Hall, Lawrence, Kanu, 60045.
Glasnost could be U.S. nightmare
Increased freedom in Soviet Union will turn Iron Curtain to Tupperware
"W wake up, Mr. Smith. Wake up. .it seems you were having another nightmare."
Mr. Smith opened his eyes, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead.
"Saint Gorbachev" he muttered. "Saint Gorbachev." His voice trailed off.
God bavah. His voice trained on.
"What was that?" the doctor asked
"Chairman Gorbachev," Mr. Smith said. "Everyone was calling him Saint Gorbachev...and his friends kept calling him Saint Gorbave!"
"It was only a nightmare, Mr. Smith," the doctor said. "Just a nightmare."
"But it was so real," Smith said, grabbing the doctor's arm. "All of America was celebrating the Soviets' Glasnost policy and cheering for Saint, e. charman Gorbachev."
"Now Mr. Smith, that's no reason for a nightmare. Glasnost is a good idea, and perhaps someday the Russian people will have many freedoms, much like we do in America."
"That's the point, doctor," Smith cried. "It was so clear, Glassmott must be good. If the Russians were here, it would be a disaster."
"I don't see how something good can be bad, Mr. Smith," the doctor said, shaking his head. "I think you need some rest."
"Fur hats, red scarves and vodka." Smith said. "As innocent as they sound, that's how it all began. . . America's downfall."
"Listen Doctor, first it was the Japanese and their transistor radios, then Sony watches." Smith said. "Next we know, Disneyland is in of being bought up by the "yota corporation!"
"Have you been taking some medication I don't know about, Mr. Smith?"
"But I don't see what transistor radios and imported cars have to do with Glasnost being the end of American civilization, Mr. Smith," the doctor said.
"Doc, Glasson may be the first step toward democracy in Russia, right?"
Van
Jenerette
Staff Columnist
"Target! a democracy," Smith said as he sat up in bed. "Democracy is the problem. If we have trouble competing with a few million Japanese who have a democratic government, how are we going to compete with 300 million free, Glasnostized, democratized Russian workers?"
"You're taking this nightmare stuff too seriously, Mr. Smith."
"I don't know where this is going, Mr. Smith but I'll play along for now," the doctor answered. "A democracy?"
"And what kind of government do the Japanese live under?"
"It is serious, doctor. You see the real threat from Russia isn't missiles, tanks and guns. It is a free Russian factory worker!" Smith was now standing on his bed.
"It's the old one-two punch . . . the bad-cop, good-cop routine," Smith said, waving his arms. "They know they can't beat our super weapons and military hardware stores, so they invent Glasnost and just smile while they out-capitalist the capitalists with blue-light specials on Made-in-Russian goods!"1
"But the dream gets worse, doctor!" Smith, said. "The Pope thinks Glasnost is so great that they make Gorbachev an honorary saint, and people the world over begin to name their babies and dogs after him. I heard voices that kept calling, 'Here Gorby . . . here Gorby.' It was horrible."
The doctor sat on the edge of the bed and looked up as Smith began to jump up and down.
The doctor stroked his chin and shook his head. "This nightmare is beginning to sound like a premonition, Mr. Smith."
"It is the future, doctor!" Smith said as he looked about quickly. He leaned down and whispered into the doctor's ear.
"Oppression, doc. Oppression."
The doctor pulled back. "What?"
Smith sat down on the bed next to the doctor. "Oppression is the solution," he said with a smile.
"I don't believe I'm actually listening to this." The doctor stood up. "Oppression is the solution?"
"You got it, doc!" Smith shook the doctor's hand. "Labor camps, Siberia and human rights violations are good for the U.S. economy."
The doctor put his hands over his ears, but Smith continued.
"Stain is the best friend America ever had. It is so simple. As long as we surround the Iron Curtain with missiles, the Soviets stay paranoid, abuse their citizens, who in turn, drink more, so factories produce less and exports stay down, American capitalism is the king of the mountain."
"Whew!" said the doctor, shaking his head.
"That's crazy. Mr. Smith."
"Just lie down and try to relax, Mr. Smith."
The doctor reached next to the bed and pushed the nurse call-button.
"I saw it all, doctor," Smith rambled on. "Red tupperware with a hammer-and-sickle design. Dairy Queen will become Dairy Comrade. K mart becomes Kremml Mart."
The nurse came in and gave Smith an injection. The doctor nodded.
"It's OK, Mr. Smith," the doctor said. "Everything will be OK. Get some sleep."
Smith looked puzzled and flopped his head down on the pillow.
"Doctor," he said. "One more thing." "What's that, Mr. Smith?"
"If Glasnost works too good in Russia," he said softly, "what country will the U.S get defecting ballet dancers from?"
Van Jenereite is a Lawrence graduate student majoring in journalism.
Capper
by Tom Michaud
BLOOM COUNTY
by Berke Breathed
e 1988 Washington Post Co