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About The Battalion. (College Station, Tex.) 1893-current | View Entire Issue (April 11, 1988)
Page 2AThe Battalion/Monday, April 11,1988 Opinion Mail Call No kid gloves EDITOR, One can only applaud Sue Krenek’s desire “to treat Jackson like a real candidate.” Her column of April 1, however, does not lead us very far in that direction. Instead of offering a careful analysis of the issues that Jackson has addressed, she merely presents a series of ‘ad hominem’ queries about his past record. In that respect, she follows the same mainstream press that she criticizes, blurring or even ignoring substantive ideological questions by dwelling on matters of character. That leads to the second point. Krenek’s contention that Jackson owes his emergence to kid-glove treatment from the press is not only presumptions but contemptuous of the thousands of voters — I happen to be one of them — who cast their ballot for Jackson not because he’s black, not because he’s “charismatic,” but because he has taken the most stridently progressive stance on the problems of Central America, corporate power, unemployment, eco nomic injustice and drugs. If Texas Agricultural Commissioner Jim High tower and The Texas Observer (among others) have given Jackson their en dorsement, it is, as The Observer notes in its Feb. 26 issue, “because Jackson has consistently promoted the progressive and humane political and eco nomic agenda.” (Not everybody takes their cues from Time and Newsweek.) Finally, Krenek would do well to give closer scrutiny to the real benefi ciary of kid-glove treatment from the press: Ronald Reagan, whose repeat edly erroneous statements go beyond the “wacky” and “off the wall” to the point of revealing a shocking ignorance and insensitivity. What will history have to say about the media’s contribution to America’s adulation of a presi dent who cited trees as a major source of pollution, who claimed that segrega tion no longer existed in South Africa, and who stated that no living German had experienced World War II as an adult? Nathan Bracher Assistant professor of French We already have a standard EDITOR: In reading Brian Frederick’s column Tuesday, I wondered why he looked past our already existing standard of morality (for generating civil and criminal laws) to find his answers. The standard is the U.S. Constitution and the Bill of Rights. These documents were written, not by Christians, but Deists who re garded God as an aloof spectator who neither responded to prayer nor de manded immolation. Deism was a stage in the atrophy of religion. All men, said Jefferson, are endowed by their creator with certain inalienable rights; Jefferson meant our individual rights derive from the ‘nature’ of man, not from the ideal of Cod as a creator. So the source of man’s rights is not divine or congressional law, but man’s identity; rights are required by man’s nature for his proper survival. t.. .';.t ■. ( v , , aioimq All national or state legislation which contradicts or imposes upon this standard of individual rights should be rejected. A law’s purpose is only to protect ‘rights’, not the prejudices of a mob. Abortion, sodomy and evolution, have nothing to do with the violation of man’s rights. A clear cut division can be drawn between the rights of one man and another — no man has the right to initiate the use of physical force against another man. Because this is an objective division, it cannot be changed by differences of opinion, by majority decisions or by the arbitrary decree of society. Brian’s solution to unlimited arbitrary power in our government avoids the basis for moral law (not to mention the Fourteenth Amendment). Brian proposes to put this unlimited power in the hands of many little govern ments. Ayn Rand summed it up when she said, “The bxeak up of a big gang into a number of small gangs is not a return to a constitutional system, nor to individual rights, nor to law and order.” Kevin Copps ’89 You will burn EDITOR: We are a group of ‘ordinary’ Ags who are absolutely appalled by the ac tions of some of our Aggie friends. It seems a number of misguided individu als, possessed by their insatiable desire to tan, have found their tanning spots at the All Faiths Chapel. Skimpily clad, these individuals lie in the grass on Chapel premises inside the brick fences. Even a bold few men have taken their desire to exercise inside the Chapel — without shirts on! The point of this letter is to point out the blatant level of disrespect shown towards the Chapel. The Chapel is more than a building erected on campus. It is an inviolable sanctuary of God for all those who choose to utilize it. These people have desecrated the purpose of the Chapel, and it had ought be stopped. The Chapel is used for religious services, Voices of Praise choir re- hersal and just as a haven for anyone who needs it. If you must tan, don’t do it on the Chapel premises. If you must do it at the Chapel, do it with your clothes on. THANK YOU!! Chris Henderson, ’91 accompained by three signatures 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 classification, address and telephone number of the writer. The Battalion (USPS 045 360) Member of Texas Press Association Southwest Journalism Conference The Battalion Editorial Board Sue Krenek, Editor Daniel A. LaRry, Managing Editor Mark Nair, Opinion Page Editor Amy Couvillon, City Editor Robbyn L. Lister and Becky Weisenfels, News Editors Loyd Brumfield, Sports Editor Jay Janner, Photo Editor Editorial Policy The Battalion is a non-profit, self-supporting newspa per operated as a community service to Texas A&M and Bryan-College Station. Opinions expressed in The Battalion are those of the editorial board or the author, and do not necessarily rep resent the opinions of Texas A&M administrators, fac ulty or the Board of Regents. The Battalion also serves as a laboratory newspaper for students in reporting, editing and photography classes within the Department of Journalism. . The Battalion is published Monday through Friday during Texas A&M regular semesters, except for holiday and examination periods. Mail subscriptions are $17.44 per semester, $34.62 per school year and $36.44 per full year. Advertising rates furnished on request. Our address: The Battalion, 230 Reed McDonald, Texas A&M University, College Station, TX 77843-1 111. Second class postage paid at College Station, TX 77843. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to The Battal ion, 216 Reed McDonald, Texas A&M University, Col lege Station TX 77843-4 111. IV Tb ial S ‘I’ve 1 /Vran lance :oupl' roph light Elv ineei !he A] just 111 |“W mean' a spi n 1 L as Iforme lash\ La Springtime sponsor madness Ah, yes, week- e n d s during springtime. There is nothing quite like them. Satur day and Sunday, two days of pure bliss and relaxa- tion. Time to watch the trees bloom, the birds chirp, the small filthy neighbor- ] hood urchins chase weekend. Mark Nair cars. Ah, yes, the Oh, wait, wait, wait. I almost forgot. We’re supposed to be in college. We’re not supposed to relax. We’re supposed to research and do homework and study. After all, these are the best years of our lives. So, there 1 was. It was a dark and stormy Friday afternoon. I sat, stunned, looking at the piles upon piles upqp, piles of work I had to do. I waded through the assignments, slashing away with my machete. So much to do, SO MUCH TO DO! THEY’LL NEVER LET ME GRADUATE! So I said hose it, and I went to Hous ton for the weekend. A quick note about Houston, my home away from home, domicile and residence and domain of my parents, my high school and Mac the furniture man. Every time I go home (once since the War of the Roses, and that’s only be cause I won the betting pool and had to collect), I have this uncanny feeling that my parents will rush to the door, look at me strangely and then announce that, no, they don’t need any more mag azines, hair care products or any other sundry you-rip-it-we-fix-it products. Ei ther that or they will engage in the fol lowing dialogue: DAD: The prodigal son returns! How much do you need? MOM: My gosh, son, how you have grown! DAD: Last time we saw you, you were knee-high to a grasshopper. MOM: You look awful. You’re start ing to look like a sports writer. ME: Oh, excuse me. I have the wrong house. Anyway, back to the story. It was sud denly Saturday, and we decided to have a nice family outing. We quickly decided on The Houston International Festival because it sounded so soothingly cultu ral and important. Far be it from us to miss something soothingly cultural and important. After discovering that the thing between us and the festival was Houston traffic, w r e argued for hours on how to arm the car. And then w r e were off. We found parking (don't ask how; I still don’t understand how we did it) and traversed downtown (on foot, no less — a dangerous stunt) to the festival grounds. And there, before me, two huge blue signs flanked the Interna tional Stage. On the signs were the let ters that, if read in sequence, said: “AT&T.” I was expecting phones to start doing a show on the stage. I was disappointed. The Scandinavian Folk Dancers showed up instead; They weren't phones, but they,were OK. We walked around to all the other stages, expecting performances (as the signs led us to believe) by such groups as “Jack in the Box,” “J.C. Penney,” “Texa co” and other corporate giants. Instead, we saw things like the Middar Aborigi- nial Theatre Group, Wilfred Chevis & The Texas Zydeco Band and the Aus tralian Jazz Orchestra. Imagine how up set we were. Up to this point we were wandering around aimlessly. It was time for a change. It was time to get a program of events. It was time to know what we tional Festival without at leastoneO® ( ial Femporary Service. Thai we were missing several na events by stewing over who andib were the sponsors <>t the festivals hose ear. 1 lior f lerfoi “Nc n fre The) Sec ies, larch ficka ward ;ct th; I Jam Hard Mic usint liked t I Lar we were missing several neato events deciding who and what hadthelai^K most obnoxious sign/banner/pampf: that told everyone they were sponsor the festival. For instance, it was hot. Peoplew hot. A I&f gave out little pieces of: board attached to little woodenhani If one were to hold the woodenhanci one's wrist back and fo therein making the piece of cardboz move back and f orth, one couldexpeai fairly nice breeze to cool one off Ji iiolle on these pieces of cardboard tint n in ! Tan ii attached i<> little wooden handle'v Gn the words "I am a fan of AT&T found this a rousing indication ofil it prw| JVayn TYacy were missing. This is what the official program of events told us: That the Official Australian Wine of the Houston International Festival was Wolf Blass Wine. I tried to find the Offi cial German Wine, the Official Ca nadian Wine, the Official Vatican City Wine but was stymied. Oh, well. That the Official Headquarters Hotel of the festival was the Four Seasons Ho tel. I do not know what a “headquarters hotel” is, but as long as it is an off icial headquarters hotel, then it must be im portant. That the Official Temporary Service of the festival was Kelly Services. Like J always say, you can’t have a real Interna- spirit of internationalism over the festival. Finally it was the end of the day was time for us to dodge the“sdi group of some 200 artisans (in five from Australia)” on the way the car. It was time for ustotra home, sit around (the phrase "ta around” can be substituted herewitl penalty) and relect in a wondrous its rie on our day at the International Its val. It was a time to ask, “WasittM Oil Company or the Westpac Bant: Corporation that sponsored Larn zak and Sax-No-End?” 11 was a ti® count how many sponsors wep member and then count howl shows we could remember, finding! that the number of sponsersalways* numbered the number of shows. And it was a time to think abonk merits of sponsorship, billboardsi: late-night commercials. And then it * a time for reality to hit me squared face like a bowl of HamburgerHdf and for me to remember those mous words, “1 am your term pa] shall not wait.” After such a fantasy weekend, s can be such an ugly thing. Mark Nair is a senior politicals^ major and opinion page editor0 Battalion. BLOOM COUNTY teph rsul Cyle ^ ollej Kriste