The Battalion. (College Station, Tex.) 1893-current, March 24, 1986, Image 2

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    Page 2/The Battalion/Monday, March 24, 1986
Opinion
A cloudy response
In 1985 the Soviet Union announced a self-imposed, unilat
eral test ban on nuclear weapons. Since then the Kremlin re
peatedly has asked the United States to follow with a similar ac
tion. The Soviets announced they would continue their
moratorium as long as the United States did not conduct any nu
clear tests.
Saturday the United States responded with a mushroom
cloud.
The State Department maintains that no type of test ban
would further our goals of peace and stability. So Saturday, in
the name of peace and stability, a nuclear bomb — affectionately
named Glencoe — was detonated 2,000 feet beneath the Nevada
desert.
The United States repeatedly has complained that the Sovi
ets cannot be trusted to ban nuclear testing without “effective
verification.” Yet a week after the most recent Soviet effort to
work toward nuclear disarmament and global peace, the United
States effectively announced to the world that it won’t even con
sider a test ban.
Nuclear disarmament won’t be achieved if neither side coop
erates. The Soviets have made the first move. Now it is up to the
United States to show its concern.
Mushroom clouds aren’t a good indicator that peace is our
first priority.
The Battalion Editorial Board
GRENADES
ROCKET
in
* /tO, . LAUNCHERS... v
W M ' ,6 ' S ~
CENTRAL
AMERICA JS'
■The fir;
etion ol
iugh one
who h
Not onl
Hsu res
ay have
irred by
Now, w
udent L
iwly-lice
Iff debts
ffhe Te:
stem Co
irating a
■pav up l
ir every
exas run
The death of a salesman in the Philippines
The
gents v
(Teases
bus fee
modul,
Biff! Listen
Biff. You’re my
son and I know
what you think of
me. I know I’m a
washed-up
salesman, going
off in the world on
a smile and a shoe
shine, polishing
the apples of cus
tomers, groveling
Richard
Cohen
Marcos. What are you selling? she
asked. Shoes, I said. She said she’d take
400.
for sales and — alas and alack — getting
none. But once, Biff, once I was a ter
rific success. Yesiree, Biff. I sold shoes
to Imelda Marcos.
Biff! Biff! I couldn’t believe my ears.
I whipped out the old order book, made
sure I had my carbons in the right place,
took out the old pencil, wetted the end
of it and wrote it all up. Yesiree — 400
pairs of number 72 black pumps, size
6V2. Would the lady like anything else?
Yes, she said. She ordered 400 insoles,
400 shoe trees, 400 little plastic bags for
the shoes and $813 in Dr. Scholl’s foot
powder, which was another of my lines.
Oh, boy, those were the days. The
Philippines were my territory. Hot.
Muggy. Those fans turning slowly over
head. Everyone smoking Camels. All
the women were wearing slit skirts. I
was alone, afraid and not doing partic
ularly well, but I thought, what the hell,
I’ll try the palace. I asked for Imelda
Mail Call
had put us. I was going to buy a condo
minium with a fancy British name — the
Buckingham or something. Imagine
me, Willie Loman, in a condominium!
I could hardly write fast enough. My
hand was shaking. I flipped the order
pages on my book, smearing carbon on
my fingers and later on my face. Imelda
just smiled at me. I tried to calculate the
commission. Oh, the days we could
spend together at Ebbets Field, Biff. I
would take you and your brother,
Happy, and your mother out of that
house near the El where Arthur Miller
I could not believe my good luck. Of
course, I told nobody about Mrs. Mar
cos and the way she was spending
money. When a Philippines aid bill
came up before Congress, I just looked
the other way. I was not alone, of
course. Real-estate agents all over the
world knew. The fanciest jewlers called
on the Marcos family. Mstislav Rostro
povich played his little cello for them.
George Hamilton sang for them and
furriers sold Imelda hundreds of fur
coats. What becomes a legend? I’ll tell
you. A-hundred-and-fifty fur coats in
the tropics. That’s a legend.
Biff, you remember that toast Vice
President George Bush made to Ferdi
nand Marcos? I was in the palace at the
time. I used to stay in the salesmen’s
quarters. All of us were there. Gus from
Cartier’s, Phil from Tiffany’s, Ernie
from Rolls Royce, Jay from Gucci, Sal
from Kron chocolates and Irv from So-
theby Park Bernet. Most of the time we
used to play poker, but that night we
went to see Bush. What a toast! That
stuff about admiring Ferdinand’s demo
cratic ways. I thought Ernie would die
laughing. Only Jay didn’t laugh. Those
creeps from Gucci. No sense of humor.
He kept saying it was a disgrace.
Anyway, Biff, there was no way we
would say anything. The money was
rolling in. Anytime the good old U.S. of
A. sent the Philippines aid, I would
show up at the palace with my order
book. Just last year, we offered them a
$900 million package over Five years —
economic and military aid, you under
stand. Bingo, I was at the palace. Any
thing you need, Imelda? I tell you Biff,
that line of patter works.
Biff, she gave me a weak smile and
then started calling out the order. I’ll
take 600 pairs of slingbacks and 800
two da)
pairs of pumps. Throw in 312 sti today,
and 912 sandals. Do you sell pantvH A re
she asked. 1 had to say no. Toobai Frank 1
said. I need 4,000 pair. Are youtki|p erce
man? No again. Paintings? Officet®^. j'
ings? Townhouses? Estates? No,i»» retoI ‘
and no. Just shoes, lady. Justshoei the fun
And then. Biff, just like thauigulti-
over. Some lady named Cori® 16 ^ 11
c ms
Aquino, a size 7 probably, lock
Philippines. One look at her and
could tell — no sales there. One toigcreas
we salesmen snuck out of the i the boa
ippines and headed home. It waii^andiv
Biff. We had had our ride. An«j||
year or two, another American fortH
aid package, and we would have j-Of
out of Brooklyn. No more elevated8
rumbling right outside the wint| —
Biff, Biff... G/i
For the Philippines, it wastheretf
of democracy. But for good oldlf ■ Th<
Loman, it was the death of asalesnw specia
. .
Richard Cohen is a columnist m contir
Washington Post Writers Group, riculu
! diang
and r<
First-hand freedom
EDITOR:
I am so happy to be able to write this before this year’s Muster. I
am writing from the Philippines and I’m very caught up in the mo
ment.
You know by now, there’s been a revolution. One of the greatest
revolutions in history, and I lived it.
I was watching part of the PBS Vietnam series on a friend’s Beta-
max. After it Finished and I was preparing to go home, when I heard
the news. Defense Minister Enrile and ‘Acting’ Chief of Staff Ramos
have resigned and are asking for support in Camp Aguinaldo. They
came by the tens of thousands and they stayed. They were only wait
ing for this moment to arrive. It seemed impossible, but the hour
had Finally come. Whether we Aggies know about it or allow our
egos to accept, the Filipinos fought savagely and valiantly in the hills
against the Japanese during World War II waiting for the Ameri
cans to return as they had promised. This time they fought for
themselves and it was the most valiant of all. They had no Ghandi to
lead them, nor Martin Luther King. They knew of them but what
they knew most of all was what freedom was going to be like. Real
live freedom. They turned back the tanks. And isn’t it great how the
tanks turned back.
I think we were taught about our forefathers and having grown
up during the age of the Vietnam War. I have had to weigh time and
time again human rights and freedom, courage, what morality and
right is. What is practical, realistic and what is pure truth. I’ve had a
good background, but never in my life have I really sensed what
freedom, courage and truth can mean. I am so proud to be of the
human race. I never understood better what my old heroes Thomas
Jefferson, Benjamin Franklin and Martin Luther King were talking
about. I just beheld the most courageous and beautiful revolution
and I feel free, a full human being thanks to my Filipino brethren.
They always looked up to we Americans in spite of ourselves. Now
Filipinos know things most of us will be lucky to learn.
Aggies in the Philippines will Fittingly have Muster this year on
Correigidor. This time we’ll have a better sense of the real thing
from 1942.
Larry Farmer
Class of 1970
Texas Aggie Band
Blacks should wait their turn
EDITOR:
While strolling across campus yesterday, I passed two students
fervently discussing the issue of apartheid in South Africa and the
corresponding need for U.S. companies to divest themselves of all
holdings in that troubled country. Although I never have had very
strong feelings on this whole apartheid thing, it did bother me that
both of these people assumed that divestment was an obvious and ir
refutably good policy. In this assumption, I feel they were sadly mis
taken.
First, realize that to force U.S. companies to divest, as many of
the radical anti-apartheid groups (Students Against Apartheid, etc .
. .) want to do, would be depriving U.S. companies, made up of U.S.
citizens, of their unalienable right to invest their money where they
see Fit. Companies invest in South Africa not to bankroll apartheid,
but to get the maximum pro Fit. Yet, by wanting to force divestment
on American business, these anti-apartheid radicals seem to attach
more importance to the civil rights of black South Africans than the
civil rights of taxpaying U.S. citizens.
Of course, the whole reason for divestment (that will it force the
South African government into dismantling apartheid) is also fatally
flawed. South Africa and its leaders are moving towards effective
change, but change, as any reasonable man knows, takes time. Let
ting South African blacks vote right now would merely plunge the
entire nation into chaos and destroy the legacies of white African
rule; like a high standard of living, a low hunger rate and access to
modern technology.
Besides, as Dr. Horace Greely, a reknown anthropologist has
said, “No black race has ever invented the wheel, or even a system of
writing on its own.” South African blacks owe the white minority a
huge cultural debt and should at least have the courtesy to wait for
the abolition of apartheid with a bit more patience and good will.
Carl Krieger
Silver taps for the Twelfth Man?
EDITOR:
In case anyone was interested (and I sincerely doubt that), our
own Aggies played in the championship game of the SWC tourn-
ment Mar. 9. Yeah, it was only a few hours away in Dallas and there
were a whole bunch of seats which could have been taken for about
the price of a home football game.
Charean Williams best summed up the fate of the Aggies in the
Mar. 10 Battalion. The indictment read, “. . . A&M had the least fans
there.” The Aggies may have been runners-up in the tournament,
but we Finished DEAD LAST in the area which one college hand
book rates us tops — SPIRIT!!!
As anyone who happened to watch could tell, we were outdone
by a school which didn’t advance past the First round. In fact, one
Razorbacker came up to me the day before the game and told me
how much she loved seeing our band when we came up to Little
Rock! (As in Little Rock, Ark.— about a 320 mile trip!) And I have
no doubt that she was in attendance at OUR championship game the
next day. And she probably rooted for Tech along with the rest of
the Arkansas fans. Who could blame them? Those Tech fans were
Fired up! They kept showing up in increasing numbers after every
win. I know that I’d get more excited about a school that supported
its team than a bunch of deadheads.
We obviously didn’t give a damn whether or not our boys
showed beyond a shadow of a doubt that they are the class of the
SWC. Sure, the Ags didn’t play their best game, but they played well
enough to win. Every time they made a run the fan support just
state
progi
Isn’t five minutes enough?
acliie
instiu
Th
that I
wasn’t there. They needed to know we were behind themanditj
didn’t happen.
Maybe we need to hold Silver Taps for the Twelfth Man
least owe the team an apology! As proud as we all are of theft
we helped the Ags win the Cotton Bowl, we ought to be i,
ashamed of the fact that we failed to support the basketballn Seel< ;
when they needed it! Maybe in the future the Ags will get off
tail like they are supposed to and show everyone else the
Twelfth Man comes from College Station.
Dale R. Crockett ’87
He
t
;Cou
EDITOR: ngons
I am writing to you while my studies are being rudely
rupted for the fourth time this week. I do not object to theidf : pP res
informing the rest of us, who could not attend an athletic spoi®^F
event, about another Aggie victory, but it has been over 15 mh 1 ®.
since the bell tower began pounding away. What is wrong with | tat j o
minutes? I feel that would be a sufficient amount of time togC tittee.
point across.
Paul Sedita
Test!
Letters to the Editor should not exceed SOU words in length. The editorials^
serves the right to edit letters for style and length but will make every effort ^
tain the author’s intent. Each letter must be signed and must include the address
telephone number of the writer.
The Battalion
(USPS 045 360)
Member of
Texas Press Association
Southwest Journalism Conference
The Battalion Editorial Board
Editor Michelle P 0 *!
Managing Editor: Kay
Opinion Page Editor Loren SOT
City Editor Jerry 0*
News Editor Cathie Ander 50 '!
Sports Editor , Travis W 1
Editorial Policy
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A&Mand Bryan-College Station.
Opinions expressed in The Battalion are those of the Editorial Board or the author and do not
essarily represent the opinions of Texas A&M administrators, faculty or the Board of Regents.
The Battalion also serves as a laboratory newspaper for students in reporting, editing am
phy classes within the Department of Communications. u
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