Page 2/The Battalion/Wednesday, March 12, 1986 Justice for all? The Supreme Court ruled Monday that police may “trick” lawyers so that they can question a suspect without having an at torney present. The ruling not only perverts the intentions of the Miranda Rule, it is a hyphcritical decision on the part of the court. In a 6 to 3 vote, the court reversed a lower court decision that threw out a murder confession because police did not tell the suspect his attorney had tried to contact him earlier. The Miranda Rule specifically states that a suspect has the right to have an attorney present prior to and during question ing. Unless the suspect waives his rights, no evidence obtained in the interrogation may be used against the accused. If police prevent a suspect from having an attorney present they violate the Miranda Rule. Justice Sandra Day O’Connor said while the justices “share (a) distaste for the deliberate misleading” of an attorney, “we have never read the Constitution to require that the police sup ply a suspect with a flow of information to help him calibrate his self-interest in deciding whether to speak or stand by his rights.” Not only is this advocating dishonesty in the legal system, it contradicts the court’s 1966 ruling. The new decision takes ad vantage of suspects who aren’t aware that certain statements may violate their self-interest. It opens the legal process to all sorts of chicanery. The Miranda Ruling answered a need for suspects to be aware of their rights and to prevent unfair interrogation by po lice. The new ruling could disrupt this vital contact between the accused and his lawyer. The Battalion Editorial Board Mail Call Letters to the Editor should not exceed 300 words in length. The editorial staff reserves the right to edit letters for style and length but will make every effort to maintain the author’s intent. Each letter must be signed and must include the address and telephone number of the writer. A hero in our midst EDITOR: I would like to take the opportunity to thank the fearless protector of law and justice that saved not only my life, but possibly the lives of thousands of other Aggies. On Mar. 7,1 was walking home from a test at around 9:30 or 9:45 p.m. in the vicinity of Heaton Hall on almost deserted Ross Street. The only other acitvity in the area consisted of a few other unsuspecting pedestrians and two cyclists heading west on Ross. The bikes were in their allotted paths when all of a sudden one cyclist decided to pass the other (a much slower bicycle). This is when our hero jumped into action. Without any thought of his own safety, he turned on his lights and pursued this hardened, potential pe destrian-killer. After a pursuit of at least 50 yards, at speeds nearing 15 miles per hour, the criminal was finally Stopped. Granted, there was absolutely no other traffic on Ross at the time, but our noble guardian of safety must have noticed some unspeakable travesty of justice. After writing out a citation to that monster, the officer went back on patrol to assure that no other rude cy clist tried such a dastardly scheme. Again, thank you sir. If for some reason your job as a Texas A&M Uni versity police officer is ever lost, may I make a suggestion? Check with the Kremlin. As I understand it, they operate their police force in a similar man ner. I am sure they would be able to use your tactics for apprehending dan gerous enemies of the authority, too. Robert Albin Regents test new styles to change stuffy image Bored with its stuffy, conserva tive image, the Board of Regents has decided to “lighten up.” Apparently, this all started when one regent was walking through the MSC on his way to the Associa- Glenn Murtha tion of Former Students office when he spotted a female Ag clad in a white long- sleeved Oxford cloth shirt (10 sizes too big), baggy flood pants, white socks, black vinyl high top shoes, orange hair and ears exposed with about a dozen earrings in each. Initially taken aback by the sight, the regent mumbled, “th’ baw’s driss’d lik eh garl.” Back at the board meeting, the sha ken regent mentioned the incident to the others. “Whet’s th’ warld cummin t’?” he inquired. One of the newer, more liberal mem bers of the board spoke up. “Gentle men,” he suggested, “I think it’s time you changed your image. Follow the ex amples of some of these students. Open your minds. Show a little less conformity and a little more creativity in your thought.” “Ya theenk he’s rahht?” one queried. “Ahh dun’t know. Fit’s geeve it eh trahh,” came the response. The other board members probably took the advice a tad more seriously than intended. They immediately filed into the MSC main hallway to look for the “baw” with the right look. Spotting one, they proceeded to wrestle “him” to the ground demanding to know where “he” had purchased his clothes. The “baw” managed to respond that “he” usually shops at second-hand thrift shops like the mission in Bryan-College Station. After “he” explained that the mission was not a store in Post Oak Mall, the board members set the “baw” free and promptly fled the MSC in search of transportation. Citing an emergency, the board members hijacked an A.P. Beutal Health Center ambulance and em barked on their mission to the mission. After a quick stop near the Quad to drop off a cadet who had stubbed his toe and required medical attention, the board headed for town. Arriving at the mission, one overzea- lous regent cried, “Mek way fer th’ Boad!” as he skipped through the doors. In quest of individuality (confor mity?), the others followed “suit.” The regents exchanged their maroon suits and shoes for a box of old clothes. A student who had helped them to se lect their “new” attire suggested that they do something about their hair. “Whet heeir? a regent demanded, “Ahh hevn’t hed heeir fer yeeirs!” She then suggested wigs for the clan. Proudly embellished in their fashion, the regents took off for tk: gie Wiggery. The Aggie VViggen new addition to the town and thought that it would last —itonh maroon wigs. One maroon wig of the spiked-p variety caught their attention, fighting over it for a good while, saleswoman revealed that there vitrt'j nough spiked wigs for everyone, regents agreed that they would purchase a spiked maroon wig. The Aggie Wiggery also sells A| makeup — maroon rouge and lip: The saleswoman suggested that makeup would add a nice finiili touch to their new look. The rep agreed. in a four-d studen two critii arate auto , a n-Colleg< Jilver Tap: Jd for the si jOn Sunday 18-wheele 98 driver gard as he v ituru on Hip 2818. ■Hedegard thur ]. Strom ton were pro scene. Mitel taken to St. Bn an where ■Richard > has not reg and remains with a crush broken ribs, said. ■Glenn M. from Ft. Wo tion after r Itery perforr ■pair a rt Butterly als< pelvis and said. | Funeral < students kill be held toda I In a sepa day afterno Pied of m Houston hr Mobile accir speed policr 1 Scott A. from Colle] of his vehi of FM 215 was thrown ditch. He was Hospital ar dition befc to Herma Flight. College icridentoc basing th for oad. True to the Aggie tradition, the gents are considering a proposal id quire all Ags to conform to thein style of dress. What better way toinsif sense of unity than to require even* to look the same? (Rumor hasitthai! Aggie Wiggery is planning to open* other store). So the next time you see an older® with spiked maroon hair, old and a maroon tint to his face, tell' what you think — let him knowthai are proud that he serves onourBo of Regents. Glenn Murtha is a senior politick ence major and a columnist for Battalion. Youth recaptured with one sip of an egg cream Sometimes after giving a speech, someone asks how as a columnist I have made a dif ference. At that, I double up with false modesty and declare that, given the complexity of Richard the world, I could Cohen never hope to make a difference. Now, however, I can. I have invented the low-calorie egg cream. The words “egg-cream” might call for an explanation. I know that because I once mentioned the drink in a column and was questioned by an editor of unimpeachable American-Gothic cre dentials. I changed the reference to “root beer,” a wonderful drink in its own right but not — I tell you — an egg cream. That very day I heard, Avery Gorman, the writer, being interviewed on the radio about his latest book. The interviewer said just one thing in the book stumped him. “What’s an egg cream?” he asked. I will tell him. An egg cream is a little gift from the gods. It is what the Greeks were referring to when they made such a fuss about wine (things got mangled in translation). And it is what would re-- place wine as the drink ordinaire of the people extraordinaire, should they ever serve it in France. It is quite simply, heaven in a glass. In other words, it is chocolate syrup, soda water and a little bit of milk. It is also fattening. This was not a problem for me when I was a kid and addicted to egg creams. They cost a dime and I had at least four or five of them a day. Back then, you could get an egg cream anywhere — a candy store, a drugstore — and I used to make them at home. I was so addicted to egg creams that even when the know-nothing der matologist told me that they cause pimples, I drank them anyway. Given a choice between clear skin, popularity with girls, romance, sex . . . and egg creams, I chose the latter. You would, too, if you ever had one. But alas, it had been years since I had had one. Even though there is no egg in an egg cream, there is still chocolate syrup and milk. That’s a lot of calories. Maybe 312,000. Just to think of an egg cream is worth maybe 126 calories and to say the word is 546. I turned to diet root beer instead. It was my version of methadone. Then some time ago, Bob Greene, a fellow columnist and, you can see from his pictures, a guy with a bit of weight problem, discovered Canfield’s diet fudge drink. He wrote about it in his column and I, like lots of others, tried it. Delicious. For two calories, you got a terrific chocolate drink. God, how I en vied Greene. Here was a columnist who actually had made a difference. I thought he should have won a Pulitzer prize for clueing us all in. Instead, it went to some wonk for writing a column that made no difference in anyone’s life. What Greene started, I have finished. One night, about to down a Canfield’s, my eye stopped on a container of (2 per cent) milk. The lightbulb of genius flashed. I reached for the Canfields. I reached for the milk. I poured a little of the milk into a tall glass. I added the Canfield’s. I watched that head of foam rise to the top. With shaking hands, I raised the glass to my lips. Oh, boy! An egg cream. You can not imagine my joy. I had one and then another. I made my wife taste one. My son, too. I experimented some more. A little more milk. A little less milk. Finally, I had the right pro portions. Here they are. Put some milk into a glass and add the Canfield’s. The important thing is to put the milk in first. That way you get a good head. It is also traditional. I concede that the new Cohencream (patent pending) is not without calories. By actual count there are precisely 32 of them — more or less. Two come from the Canfield’s and 30 or so from the 2 percent milk. (Non-fat milk would not have enough body for a good Cohen cream). For calories, this is really noth ing. It is about the same as one table spoon of cornstarch (29 calories), one large raw broccoli spear (32), 4 ounces of frozen yellow crookneck squash (24) or Vs cup of whey (32), whatever.the hell that is. It also tastes better than any of those things. It is not everyday that you can recap ture your youth with a mere drink. But my egg creams of old have brought a new bounce to my walk. I feel like play ing stick ball in the street, stoop ball on the stoop (where else?) and a sip brings the Dodgers back to Brooklyn. Every thing would be perfect, but in the inter est of full disclosure, I must adroit 11 fly in my new ointment. I’ve broken out. Richard Cohen is a columnist fa 9 Washington Post Writers Group. The Battalion (USPS 045 360) Member of Texas Press Association Southwest Journalism Conference The Battalion Editorial Board Michelle Powe, Editor Kay Mallett, Managing Editor Loren Steffy, Opinion Page Editor Jerry Oslin, City Editor Cathie Anderson, News Editor Travis Tingle, Sports Editor Editorial Policy The Battalion is a non-profit, self-supportingne*r, per operated as a community service to Texas Bryan-College Station. ^ Opinions expressed in The Battalion are thoseo Editorial Board or the author and do not represent the opinions of Texas A&M administ# faculty or the Board of Regents. The Battalion also serves as a laboratory for students in reporting, editing and photof' classes within the Department of Com m unications. 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