Opinion Page 2/The Battalion/Wednesday, October 31, 1984 Free speech finally coming to Texas A&M What began as a low mumble among students is turning into a distinct voice. Freedom of speech seems to have finally found a home at Texas A&M, at least for the moment. Tuesday, Students Working Against Many Problems hosted an open microphone at Rudder Fountain. It was just one of many open forums held lately on the Texas A&M campus. At the same time as the SWAMP open microphone, a religious speaker preached near the library to interested students. People from all facets of the University were on campus lis tening while others chose to walk on. That is what f reedom of speech is all about. The chance to talk, to listen or to walk on. Students at Rudder Fountain were thinking, speaking and listening. It wasn’t a forum for student leaders who often get the chance to be heard, but instead for anyone who wanted to speak — about anything. Topics ranged from the Gay Student Services recognition to abortion to the execution of Barefoot Sanders. Differing view points were brought out on many topics. We applaud the students who provide the chance for others to speak and be heard. We applaud the students who choose to speak out on issues. And we applaud the students who take the time to stop and listen. — The Battalion Editorial Board Living with the big chill G fli Ever The old group sat around the kitchen table. They talked about their friend who had died. The videotape whirred. Our old group sat around on the floor in front of the television. It was the Big Chill; it was a big chill. The phone had rung at 10:15 Thursday night. “Did you hear about the bike wreck on 2818?” Roy asked. “It was Borgeson. Kevin. He’s dead. Sandra and I were here watching the news and we just heard it. I can’t believe it. Do you have Dave’s number?” Donn Friedman I slinked down the stairs, picked up the phone, and read Dave’s number off the tv stand. Dave flew in from New Jersey. Tracey and Tracy and Kathy — Paul was in Arkansas, a victim of the working world, he couldn’t get off of work — were all there. So was Mark and Tom and Tex and Todd. I had seen some of them a month earlier, at another friend’s funeral. “The cycle has begun,” Tracey had said, “weddings and funerals — that’s the only time we’ll see each other.” The videotape whirred. The movie scene had moved to the living room. The characters made up of lines on the glass tube talked about lost idealism and deserted friendships. The characters in the movie had lost touch with their friend. They had lost touch with the idealism they had in college. They thought they had lost touch with themselves. Kathy chirped up. “Let’s call Paul,” she said. The pulse of the telephone line traveled electronic from College Station to some hillbilly town in Arkamas.fi; groggily answered the phone. The phone tried desperatelt bridge the distance. It brought the heart of the grouping lege Station infinitesimally closer to Paul; the group wasstj so far away. Roy and Sandra arrived. More friends, both old and net came and went. The videotape whirred. On the television they waidiii the Michigan football game on tv. In the living roonu; watched the movie. From time to time someone broietiij quiet of the movie watching crowd and the group brokeiii| giggle or a sneer. The cycle, the cycle, the cycle. On it goes. Funerals and funerals and funerals, li seems like an Igmar Bergman Film. Death, clothed in ahij black sheet, constantly within striking distance. Like in Bergman’s films we may dance with our In® when we die, but we mustn’t f orget to dance with ourfri® while we live. A week ago I wondered what the old group was wondered where Dave and Kathy and Paul and Traceyaii Tracy were. I wondered where Kevin was. I know where Dave and Kathy and Paul and Tracesai I racy are. I don’t plan on letting them get too faraway l* the best plans go astray. I’ll try. But 1 know thenexttii see them. A wedding, a funeral. I wish I could say the same about Kevin. Donn Friedman is a weekly columnist for TheBiitak His column appears on Wednesdays. Deputy Dawg or Pinocchio ? It’s a tough choice [w, hi iodies ut the rsion One Great P Men radir town when o ash rm. Hen< ion an and Co Ever the Grt [torch-b ight” iith th nd d band fr Arm band I dorm, torches The is expei [ “We’ and it’s comma 2. said IC-2 fore th [junior pumpk I know i Waugh niors i pumpk I “0n< Two of the leading contenders in this year’s Stupidest Political Advertisement (broadcast divi sion) race are opponents in a political fight who are running campaigns geared especially for the eight-year-old and younger crowd. They’re running ads on local radio stations and let me tell you, the ads are hotter than two- day-old pizza. The fight hasn’t quite reached the Bill Hughes mudslinging stage yet; it’s more like tapioca pudding-slinging at its finest. In addition to running stupid corrtmercials aimed at third-grad ers, these candidates also get high marks because the radio stations that they’re running their commercials on have formats designed to reach an older crowd. So, these guys not only run irritating ads, they also hedge their bets by trying not to influence their usual target audience (i.e., vot ers) because they’re running commercials that are custom-made to influence people reading comic books. They’ve picked the wrong message — and they’ve also picked the wrong medium! Very clever, but I think the judges for the Whimpies (of which the Stupidest Political Advertisement is but one division) may see these commercials as being attempts to grandstand and may believe that these ads are just too stupid to have any real merit. One of the two candidates in this race is running an ad in which a character, who sounds suspiciously like Deputy Dawg, claims that he’s big business and he’s donating $1000 to the other candidate be cause the other candidate has been real good to big business. I’d want a lot more than $1000 (especially from big business) to buy my vote, but I guess what the candidate is trying to say is that the office he’s running for doesn’t carry that much weight. Besides, everyone knows that Deputy Dawg is just a law enforce ment officer in Coondog County. The only way he could be big business would be to have a state university located within his jurisdiction. That way, he could hand out parking tickets and rake in the dough. He could also afford to give the candidate a lot more than a measly $1000. I’m not sure what this candidate’s name is or what office he’s running for because that information is given by a regular an nouncer and he just can’t compete with Deputy Dawg when it comes to holding onto my attention. Fair enough. The other candidate is running a commercial say ing that he isn’t under the influence of Deputy Dawg (er, big busi ness). He says his opponent isn’t telling the truth, which isn’t very creative, but not very offensive either. Then, in a blatant attempt to make this commercial as equally ob noxious as his opponent’s, some airhead cuts in on the Deputy Dawg candidate’s commercial and tells the opponent that his nose is grow ing. Add one point for the obnoxious airhead, take away two for lack of creativity and misuse of the Pinocchio story. f This commercial would get points for the Pinocchio angle if it was true, but the other candidate’s nose would be as big as the Good year blimp by now because he’s still running his Deputy Dawg com- jmpk belts a mercials. I haven’t seen anyone in town with a Goodyearblira|Hr. nose, have you? I don’t know what this guy’s name is either. He alsohasartpi announcer give the information about who he is and whathesnt tapor ning for. I only heard that part once because I usually turn the rat [history off before they get to the obnoxious airhead (having the rai p re( l turned off when one of your commercials is running isconsiderr. [ Revt real plus by the judges and may help this commercial gain points it lost on creativity and misuse of the Pinnochiostory.Hit [T eX a S candidate loses the race, he’s a shoo-in for the VVhimpy). White, Since it’s sometimes difficult to keep track of who is saying panyE when it comes to politicians. 1 think it would be a good idea to fi IShe pictures of Deputy Dawg and Pinocchio next to the catidfe ^ n ',’ nv names in the voting b That way, if any of the voters are confused (or if an errant eijiij year-old should make his way into the lxx>th), they’ll know candidate to choose. Me? I’m voting for Mighty Mouse; he’ll keep our defenses and make a valiant effort to bring the deficit down whilenotras taxes or lowering the quality of life in the good of USA. At least that’s what the righteous rodent says. I hope he doesn’t turn out to be one of those left-wingte after he’s elected. Bill Hughes is the entertainment editor for The BatttlmM a ninth year general studies major with degrees in biolog)' and to I How Mondale Can Pan It Out... Ghe NauB HALLOWEEN JOKE BY RON ABOUT USSR "NUKE OR TREAT” M0NM.E GAINS GROUND IN POLL t»m» «. _ ■«. j CHIP! META* < SE3?/!C& October* 30 October 31 Ear ®re Tteue HH Ban PRESIDENT DECLARES WAR ON mi Moncfale Up Three fercertf REAGAN SURRENDERS TO HAWAII TODAY MONDALE CLOSING GAP REAGAN DOZES OFF IN NEWS CONFERENCE ANNOUNCING END OF SOCIAL SECURITY, MEDICAID, FARM AlD prr- 3he Nemg MONDALE ELECTED AFTtR REAGAN PULLS OUT OF RKT AT LAST MINUTE The Battalion USPS 045 360 Member of Texas Press Association Southwest Journalism Conferenct In memoriam Bill Robinson, 1962-1984, Edilot The Battalion Editorial Board Stephanie Ross, Editor Patrice Koranek, Managing Editor I Shelley Hoekstra, City Editor I B rigid Brockman, News Editor I Donn Friedman, Editorial PageEditot I Bonnie Langford, News Editor I Ed Cassavoy, Sports Editor The Battalion Staff Assistant City Editors -I Melissa Adair, Michellel l t’ , | Assistant News Editors. Rhonda Snider,Kellie Dworaczyt, tfl Assistant Sports Editor ■■■-•< 1 Travis Tui 1 ! Entertainment Editor Bill Hof 'fj Assistant Entertainment Editor -T Angela [ Editorial Cartoonist Mike#! Make-up Editor ,JohnHt/l Copy Writers...Karen Bloch,CathyBti#! Copy Editors Kathy Breard, KayePalntf* | Cyndy Davis, Palricialq Editorial Policy .m The li.tlf.ihan is a non-profit, scif-suppo^f ri ^\M operated as a community service to Trot M> »- liryan-Colfege Station. Opinions expressed in The Baiulion ire ^ T Editorial Hoard or the author, and do not nnnuT' K resent the opinions of Texas A&M adniiirntniKa | or the Board of Regents. The Battalion also serves as a laboratoryttoff^g students in reporting, editing and pholop within the Department of Conuntinicaimt