Page 2/The Battalion/Wednesday, April 29,1987
Opinion
So, you want to be a columnist in Aggieland?
Here it is. My
last week of col
lege and my last
column for The
Battalion. A lot of
people have ap
plied for column
ist positions for
the fall semester. 1
have some advice
for those adven
turesome young ^ ...
people — some
tips on appealing or not appealing to
what I like to call Aggie mentality.
My friends, as a columnist in Aggie
land, you may take one of two paths, as I
already have alluded to.
You may choose the high path. And if
you choose that path, you must be high
— on Aggie spirit, that is. The high path
is littered with no obstacles, no abuse, no
irate letters and no fun.
Traveling this path, your pen will
lead you on such writing adventures as,
“Why I bought a maroon car and came
to A&M,” “The trouble with yell prac
tice is too many people get drunk and
vomit,” and, “Let’s get the Howdy Tra
dition going again.”
The things you write while on the
high path are the kinds of things people
want Karl Pallmeyer to write. The fa
vorite Aggie question for good Battalion
columnists is, “Why don’t you write
something nice for a change?”
1 invite you to try it.
And when your pen goes limp from
lack of ideas, your mailbox is empty and
you feel like you’re melting into obscu
rity, you’ll know you’re heading straight
down the wide, high path.
Enter the low path. I call it the low
path because all good Aggies will call
you low if you carefully navigate your
way down this path.
While traveling this path, you’ll feel
compelled to write about some of the
more inane aspects of life in Aggieland,
like bonfire or the mutt we have for a
mascot — a dog whose predecessor’s fu
neral would have been envied by Elvis.
And contrary to what your readers
will say, there’s a reason for writing
about these things.
Aggies read it. They take their ma
roon pencils in hand and write fiery let
ters to the editor calling you anything
He thinks, therefore, he thinks
I sit looking 11 ■
doggedly across Robert
the table waiting Morris
for the conversa- ^Gues^Columnis^
tion to find a new
topic. It doesn’t. 1 look down at the table
and my nerves sit on edge. I’m search
ing but I can’t find anything to say.
Unfortunately, I’m trapped in that
twilight zone of DEEP conversation —
the abyss of GOD, LIFE, WHO ARE
WE, and WHY ARE WE HERE?
I’ve been here before.
In fact, this scene is remarkably remi
niscent of 10,000 others I’ve played out
in college.
Like every other university student in
the free world (and probably some com
munist countries), I’ve pondered the
meaning of life over dozens, hundreds
and possibly thousands of beers. And
sometimes, against better judgment, of
course, other substances (some of which
could be called controlled) were in
volved.
And like every other university stu
dent, I’ve found some answers. Answers
that, if espoused on a street corner,
would either land me in a mental insti
tution, or possibly, if in California, make
me leader of my own religious sect.
I feel comfortable knowing I’m not
alone. No, I’m not talking about other
beings in the universe — remember,
I’ve misplaced my depth. I am, instead,
referring to my friends and fellow
world beaters, those neo-hippies with
whom I pondered whether J. Edgar was
really a fag. And, in some very altered
states, whether Hendrix is living on Jim
Morrison’s sheep ranch in Australia.
In search of solace in this cold, cruel
Member of
Texas Press Association
South west Journalism Conference
The Battalion Editorial Board
Loren Steffy, Editor
Marybeth Rohsner, Managing Editor
Mike Sullivan, Opinion Page Editor
Jens Koepke, City Editor
Jeanne Isenberg, Sue Krenek, News Editors
Homer Jacobs, Sports Editor
Tom Ownbey, Photo Editor
world, we have turned to our account
ing, history, mechanical engineering
and in some cases, in utter desperation,
our journalism books.
No longer do we search our souls to
find if wealth is a sign of decadence or if
Plato was a commie.
We now pray for jobs instead of
peace, NO AIDS instead of NO
NUKES.
Yes, sometimes I do feel guilty. I look
back and see myself diligently reaching
for that unreachable star and hoping
beyond hope that God is a benevolent
and forgiving entity who places strength
and power in those who believe. Of
course, that was Monday through
Wednesday — the latter part of the
week was devoted to secular humanism
— 1 had to cover my bets.
“We live in an impoverished world,”
we said, yearning for something more
for the poor and undernourished. Now,
it’s closer to, “They live in an impov
erished world and I hope to God Acme
Accounting Co. will like the grey paper
I used for my resume.”
I remember reading Lenin’s “State
and Revolution” — vaguely, but I re
member it. Yesterday I read the Wall
Street Journal, and tomorrow it will
probably be People magazine.
Is there meaning to all of this?
Maybe. Maybe not.
I’m holding staunchly to my Monda
le/Ferraro bumper sticker, and Jimmy
Carter is still my hero. But a young col
lege liberal can often become an upper-
middle class non-entity in today’s “mo
ney is the root of all happiness” society.
Editorial Policy
'/Tie Battalion is a non-profit, self-supporting newspaper oper
ated as a community service to Texas A&M and Bryan-College Sta
tion.
Opinions expressed in I'he Battalion are those of the editorial
board or the author, and do not necessarily represent the opinions
of Texas A&M administrators, faculty or the Board of Regents.
The Battalion ajso serves as a laboratory newspaper for students
in reporting, editing and photography classes within the Depart
ment of Journalism.
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periods.
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POSTMASTER: Send address changes to The Battalion, 216
Reed McDonald, Texas A&M University, College Station TX
77843-4111.
I’m still striving for meaning in the
swirling mass of humanity in which I
live. But I find myself searching for it in
reality instead of surreality. Perhaps
that’s the distinction between UNDER
STANDING life and comprehending
day-to-day living. It’s simply the divid
ing line between looking for answers
that don’t exist and scouring a closet
looking for a tie that matches an incred
ibly uncomfortable dark suit and, at the
same time, one that will impress the
balding man who will be interviewing
for ACME on Thursday (formerly my
secular humanist day).
Then again, maybe I’ve reached a
transient stage of mental development.
Something akin to puberty (God help
me) and something from which I will
emerge with grand revelations of scien
tific creationism and interpretations of
the doctrines of Tommy Aquinas.
As I wait for my metamorphasis to
reach its conclusion, I long for some
thing more than I’ve found. I’m just not
sure where to look.
Upon completion of my four-year
journey through higher education, I
hope I have more to think about than
the price of a trendy apartment and
whether it is still fashionable to have In
terview magazine on my ever-so-chic
post-modern coffee table.
I pray that I don’t fall victim of that
immutable disease — the Yuppie syn
drome. Yet, I feel its pull. Sometimes I
think I’m just growing into what God
meant for me to be — quite simply, a
Yuppie in a Yuppie’s world.
Perhaps I have in fact found my new
religion. The Supreme Being has given
me something in which I can believe. I
think I received a sign just the other
day. It came in the form of mail, but, as
I contemplate its true meaning, I know
it must have been . . . the American Ex
press card from God. I think I’ll begin
tithing for my Neiman’s card from Bud
dha tomorrow.
Or maybe I’ll just sit in a field of dan
delions, watch the sun set and think
about what it all means as an old Arlo
Guthrie cassette plays softly in the back
ground.
Robert Morris is a senior journalism
major and a staff writer for The Battal
ion.
The Battalion
(USPS 045 360)
from two percenter to unprintable pet
names.
If you think there’s a better way to
elicit thought from college minds, try
writing a solid column about Gov. Bill
Clements and the course he’s setting for
the state where all good Aggies will die.
Or try provoking some thought about
national issues.
Write about Marines — the pride of
America’s military — disgracing the
United States in front of the world. Or
the American military hero who took
the Fifth to avoid telling the truth to the
people he so boldly protects. Or a presi
dent who can’t remember if he’s presi
dent — a president, who, when he does
remember his role in national and world
affairs, oversteps it.
You’ll find that Aggies don’t care
about real issues. And when you com
plain about their apathy for those issues,
they’ll tell you that you can’t write.
But don’t worry, Aggies are a tough
crowd to please. Even nationally syndi
cated columnists like Art Buchwald and
Richard Cohen can’t get them going.
And after that issue-oriented column
Hops, write about something you think
is stupid about A&M. Tell them the
Corps is full of communist sympathizers
— I wish they’d do away with that orga
nization — or that the sacred Memorial
Student Center lawn is infested with go
phers. Then sit back and wait for the let
ters to roll in.
You’ll get letters scratched out on
napkins from freshmen who’ve never
read such printed blasphemy and want
you nuked. You’ll get stuffy letters from
pom pus graduate students, which, after
the grammar and spelling is corrected,
will relegate you to the ranks of child
molester. Measure your success with
those letters.
If there’s one thing I’ve learnedasa
staff writer, columnist and opinion page
editor, it’s that Aggies (perhaps people
in general) love to hate. It gives them
something to do — something to thinf
about without really thinking. They feel
they can solve the problem you’ve dis
cussed in your column simply by an
nouncing that you are stupid. Consider
yourself a therapist, if you like.
If anything, controversial columnists
serve to unite the student body. You're
the problem and they’re willing to fight
you. Considering all the legitimate is
sues that go unchallenged, it’s quitear
accomplishment to draw so much crit
icism from such a satisfied group.
And, let’s face it, wouldn’t you rather
have people hate (a loving hate that isi
you than be indifferent to you? If
they’re indifferent to you, you don't ex
ist and you make no difference. That’s
not a good position for a writer tobein
It’s not much of a position foranyoneto
be in.
So give it some thought before you
write your columns, but not too much
You don’t want to scare off your read
ers.
Mike Sullivan is a senior joumlism
major and the Opinion Page editor hi
The Battalion.
Mail Call
Just had to say it
EDITOR.
I have read The Battalion since I was a freshman but had never
responded to the articles I disagreed with — until now. Before I graduate,!
want to issue a plea in favor of Texas A&M’s traditions.
I guess that, since I’ll be a “former Ag” soon. I’m feeling a little anxious
about leaving A&M’s traditions in their present precarious position. Every
semester another tradition is altered or eliminated. I agree there are some
traditions that are no longer appropriate or that may be unsafe. However,
within the past few years, a trend toward mass extermination of traditions
has appeared. What would A&M be without traditions?
— The echo of Silver Taps and a 21-gun salute at Muster or Silver Taps
would never be heard by the families and friends of fallen Ags.
— Visitors walking across our campus would never be greeted with a
friendly, “Howdy!”
— The Aggie ring would be left to become a high-school imitation.
— Half-time at football games would become a battle between two high-
school band look-alikes without the Fightin’ Texas Aggie Band.
— A&M would never have been founded without the Corps of Cadets,
since they were the original students.
— There would be no symbol of our burning desire to beat the hell outta
t.u. without bonfire.
For those of you who do not wish to participate in A&M’s traditions —
fine. However, if you say you are here only for the education, you could be
missing out on some memorable, unique experiences.
For those of you who want to convert A&M into a liberated, “world”
university without traditions, there is another university just down Highway
6 in dire need of your efforts!
Jennifer Bordeaux ’87
Ever suck your thumb?
EDITOR:
This letter is written in response to the two letters written in Mail Call
about “bowheads.”
We have been “bowheads” all our lives. It all started that first day of
school when our mothers put bows in our hair and sent us off to face the
world. So why now, when we’re in college, should we be ridiculed into
shedding our childhood habit because someone feels that it is ridiculous?
How about rolled-up jeans or moussed-up hair? Why is all the fashion uproar
always directed toward the female gender? You can’t tell me the fashion faux
pas of males aren’t just as ridiculous as bows — and, Karl Pallmeyer, maybea
bow would improve your fashion sense. Remember, once a bowhead, always
a bowhead!
Missy Dill ’90
Jennifer Sauter ’90
Lose the pride, ladies
EDITOR:
Pride has been the tragic flaw of protagonists in many a tragedy and is
one of the “seven deadly sins.” Yet it is an attitude which greatly characterizes
the members of the A&M chapter of the National Organization of Women
(NOW). An article in the April 27 Battalion stated that this group is
threatening to picket the business of a local Christian man because he has,
outside his establishment, an anti-abortion sign.
This is a country of freedom of expression. If a man feels that he can
make a difference in his little corner of the world, let him. Anyway, I doubt
that it will be Christian influence on governmental policy that will take their
precious abortion away from them. It will most likely be the desire of
Congress to further itself from the areas of money and prestige.
At any rate, you ladies still have the right to put your unborn babies to
death anytime you like, so get off your soap boxes and lose some of that
pride. It is not required in America that everyone agree with you. Remember
that your zeal, if acted upon, may sometimes take away from others the right
to freely express themselves.
Darrell Dotson ’88
Letters to the editor should not exceed 300 words in length. The editorial staff reserves the right to edit letltf
for style and length, but will make every effort to maintain the author’s intent. Each letter must be signed ad
must include the classification, address and telephone number of the writer.
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