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Friday • October 4, 1996
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as struggling with terrorism
road and an energy crisis at
me. And the shocking demise of
;on was a not-so-distant memo-
The nation was left questioning
pillars of American society:
remment, churches, families
d schools.
But the current malaise, after a
:ade of prosperity, has bred an
umore frightening cynicism,
ethat not only questions but
othreatens to topple our faith in
e sacred pillars — and in the
nerstone we call “progress.”
It was 17 years ago that a
mble Georgia farmer ad-
ssed the nation from the Oval
See and spoke of a cynical
xtorate suffering from a “cri-
ofconfidence.” He decried
growing doubt about the
ianing of our own lives and ...
:loss of a unity of purpose for
ination.”
But nobody likes a whiner,
er’s diagnosis of America’s
was rewarded with an
erwhelming defeat in the foi
ling general election.
And the Glorious Age of Rea-
tiwas ushered in. Productivity
consumption levels tickled
stratosphere. Inflation no
ager mattered as wages con-
to increase. And the
^shuttle was flying high.
’ost-World War II prosperity
shack, baby!
Ofcourse, the Japanese were
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iryan
i
apply-
eople say history repeats it
self. And I have to agree be
cause the “national malaise”
President
Jimmy
Carter
lamented in
1979 has
eased its
way back
into the
heart and
soul of the
American
electorate.
Of course,
in the late
’70s Ameri-
bankrolling our trillion-dollar
budget deficits. And if they tried
to collect any payments from
us, we could just nuke ’em
again because we were the
mightiest military power the
world had ever known.
Besides, General Motors, Ford
and Chrysler were making some
damn fine automobiles.
Being a Republican (or a
swing-Democrat) in America
never felt better.
“Another term for Reagan,
and then give us George Bush!”
the brimming-with-confidence
electorate declared.
But as Saddam and Co. surren
dered on the shores of the Persian
Gulf in 1991, Carter’s national
malaise resurfaced. And as it ruth
lessly destroyed Reagan’s plaster
temple under Fhresident Bush’s
watch, the illusion of national con
fidence began to crumble.
Five years later, our churches,
synagogues and mosques are emp
ty, faith in God is attacked, and reli
gion is viewed with contempt.
Almost half of newly married
couples will divorce, leaving the
children to cope with a broken
home. And our schools have be
come bloody battlefields for
youth gangs.
The same companies that
prospered in the ’80s (and contin
ue to post record profits in the
’90s) are now arbitrarily passing
out pink slips to the employees —
our parents — who have given 20
and 30 years of faithful service.
Fat-cat CEOs jokingly refer to this
as “downsizing” or “payroll reduc
tion plans.”
NAFTA and other sellouts have
left countless blue-collar workers
to watch their jobs immigrate
south of the border and overseas.
Those damn fine automobiles
that were rolling off assembly
lines in Detroit are now being
built in Mexican factories.
And we, as students, are faced
with a future that may not offer us
the opportunities to enjoy a better
life — so much for progress.
It’s no wonder that less than 25
percent of Americans trust the in
tegrity of their government.
As a result, the increasingly
cynical electorate turned to an
equally cynical man armed with
pie charts and a chicken claw
fastened to a rod.
He contemptuously slapped
this voodoo economics stick
against his colored graphs as he
touted obscure statistics. We
were enamored, and many (in
cluding myself) embraced this
mystic shaman.
But he was not the answer to
our troubles in 1992 — or 1996.
My friends, history has repeat
ed itself once again as Carter’s
malaise — or “funk” as President
Clinton termed it — takes root.
The cynicism it is breeding
among the electorate has cracked
the cornerstone of progress.
And I’m left asking a single but
frightening question: Was Jimmy
Carter like a prophet standing at
the gates of that “shining city on a
hill” lamenting the impending
death of a nation?
I wonder, sometimes.
W hen it comes
to eating on
campus, most
of us find ourselves in a
vicious no-win situa
tion: Either endure the
tedium of the dining
hall system, or fork over
our beloved Aggie
Bucks for overpriced
food at other on-cam
pus eateries.
It would be great if
the dining hall chefs
could invent new fare,
or if the private fast food compa
nies in the Underground would
make their prices competitive out
of the goodness of their hearts.
But while we wait for hell to
freeze over, Food Services has us
where they want us. Oddly enough,
the official Food Services motto is
“Dining on campus is fun.”
It’s true that Food Services per
sonnel are hard-w©rking men and
women who deserve respect for
working to feed thousands of
young adults and bonfire pots
every week. But unfortunately,
their menu is about as imagina
tive as their slogan writer.
A very informal study of the
Food Services menu suggests that
about two-thirds of the dinner
entrees served in dining halls fit a
time-tested, boring recipe: a
small slab of meat, served on a
bed of rice or pasta and doused in
a sauce of some sort.
Pasta with chicken, sliced
cheese and marinara sauce
makes Chicken Parmesan. And
you, too, can combine rice,
chicken, and cream gravy to
form the Chicken Cutlet dinner.
Similar ensembles employ beef
instead of chicken. It doesn’t
take Martha Stewart to recognize
there’s a pattern evolving here.
But the campus dining experi
ence can offer a sense of mystery
that can make even an ordinary
meal truly worthwhile. There are
several unanswered questions that
bum in the hearts and minds of on-
campus diners.
For instance, where does all
Columnist
Jeremy Valdez
Senior chemical
engineering major
the strawberry Blue
Bell ice cream go?
Chocolate is always
the first to be eaten,
followed by vanilla.
But the strawberry ice
cream lies dormant,
like a cancer in the
deep freeze, until one
day, when it suddenly
disappears.
Also, why are the
plastic glasses in the
dining halls so small?
Several hypotheses ex
ist to explain this phenomenon.
One is that back in ol’ army days,
when the glasses were purchased,
people didn’t drink as much. After
all, the Big Gulp had not yet been
invented, and archaeological evi
dence from the 1970s suggests that
the average human bladder was
smaller back then. Another suppo
sition is that the glasses are small
for safety’s sake. If the glasses were
larger, juice drinkers could, in theo
ry, suffer alcohol poisoning. Even
with today’s smaller “safety glasses”
you can still catch a wicked week-
long buzz from just two glasses of
the vintage Sbisa juice. 1993 was a
very good year.
As I see the fresh faces of the
Class of ’00 venture forth into their
college experience, I find myself
reminiscing about my own fresh
man year. On-campus dining was
an important part of my new cul
ture. Food Services kindly obliged
by introducing a strange concoc
tion called Frito Pie, apparently as
a nod to my Mexican heritage.
Whether you eat in the dining
halls or with Aggie Bucks,
whether you eat alone or with
friends, or whether you use whole
milk or skim milk, I feel your pain.
Despite all its faults, Food Ser
vices somehow manages to meet
the needs of one of the largest
colleges in the world. So if you’re
reading this in a campus dining
establishment, I grudgingly pro
pose a toast to Food Services.
“Excuse me, sir. Yes, you in the
hairnet: How about breaking out
the big glasses?”
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Mail
Editorial Roundup
—The following is a sam-
ing of editorial opinion from
xas newspapers:
The El Paso Herald-Post on
i of progress in the Republi-
\n Congress:
When President Clinton said
lanuary that the era of fyig
vernment was over, it looked
many like he had abandoned
Democrats and adopted Re-
tblican philosophy.
Take a close look today,
ough, and what you see is Re-
iblicans jumping the GOP ship
d swimming from all they’re
Wh to Democratic shores.
The Republican Congress —
politically embattled today
Clinton was when he first
irted edging away from ambi-
ms programs and indulging in
ore conservative rhetoric —
srecently passed any number
feel-good measures advocat-
by Democrats, but without
sort to taxes.
Instead, Congress is imposing
eirmultimillion-dollar costs
ibusinesses....
This regulatory burden —
Jich translates into fewer jobs
id less wealth for Americans —
sthe sort of thing Republi
cans were planning to attack not
so long ago.
Don’t look for their help to
day, at least not until after the
November election. Now they’re
part of the problem.
The Amarillo Globe-News on
right to speak at sentencing:
Some acts simply defy de
scription. They go so far beyond
the pale, beyond decency, as to
render their witnesses mute
with rage.
One such act occurred in a
San Jose, Calif., courtroom
Thursday. Richard Allen Davis,
convicted of the 1993 kidnap
and murder of Polly Klaas, was
about to receive his sentence
from Judge Thomas Hastings.
After hearing from Polly’s fa
ther, Marc Klaas, Allen struck
once more at a family whose
heart he shattered into a mil
lion pieces.
He said Polly’s last words to
him were pleas not to molest her
the way her father had done.
The response drew the under
standable cries of anguish from
the crowd. Marc Klaas lunged at
his daughter’s killer, only to be
escorted from the courtroom.
Now the Big Question: Should
a convicted killer be denied his
constitutional right to speak at
his own sentencing hearing?
Tempting as it is to bind and
gag such an animal as Richard
Allen Davis, it is better to defer to
the Constitution, which the courts
say gives killers the right to a final
statement before a judge or jury
pronounces sentence.
No judge presiding over a
capital crime ever can predict
with absolute certainty what a
defendant will say when granted
the right to speak.
There are simply no guaran
tees that the convicted criminal
will show remorse or regret — or
at the end of the emotional scale
— contempt or loathing.
Suffering through the blather
ing of a heartless killer like Davis
is the admittedly awful price we
pay for the imperfect system of
laws that governs us.
One actually can find a silver
lining in this hideous final act
in the Polly Klaas tragedy. In its
perverted way, giving Davis the
opportunity to lash out once
more only confirms the deci
sion of the jury to convict him
and sentence him to death.
Battalion remains
loyal to its tradition
Regarding Patrick Smiley’s Oct.
2 column, “Traditions traditional
ly perpetuate stupidity”:
I can see not much has
changed at The Battalion. Sure,
it has color pictures, a web site
address, a few more pages, etc.,
etc., but it still insists on em
ploying the same kind of colum
nists it always has.
Why is there always some
writer who feels it is his or her
holy cause to criticize Texas A&M
and its traditions? Both my father
and grandfather say The Batt has
always been like this.
Smiley’s column on traditions
was way out of line. Comparing
Aggie Bonfire to fibulation is
ridiculous. Yes, some traditions
taken to the extreme can be
harmful. Yet, it is tradition that
binds us as a people, as a society.
Whether it is birthday cake, Aggie
yell practice, Christmas trees, or
even how we dance, dress, eat or
say “howdy,” traditions make up
the majority of our lives.
Smiley needs to rethink his
subject. I realize he is only a
sophomore, but he doesn’t have
to worry — with age comes
knowledge that will teach him
which fights to fight.
Here is a good one: Why not
fight the tradition of The Batt’s
hiring writers of such limited
scope and experience?
Jason D. Scott
Class of’92
Aggies have choice
to follow tradition
I’m not really sure if Smiley
was trying to convince the cam
pus he is the next Chris Stidvent,
but he did.
However, I’ll concede a few
points about his column.
First, he is correct about fish be
ing pounded with a hatred for t.u.
Second ... no wait, that’s it. If
freshmen aren’t introduced to the
Aggie spirit, they may never find
out what it is all about. Some
choose to ignore it anyway, but at
least they had the option.
As for Bonfire, though, a love
for Bonfire isn’t taught. It is
something you learn after
spending three months working
on it to see it burn.
Furthermore, Smiley’s com
ments about Sbisa yell just go to
show that he has never been to
one. Sbisa yell is for motivation
and fun. We don’t throw napkins
or food. No fights are picked, and
all the yells are in fun. You know
— fun — something I feel Smiley’s
life has been sadly devoid of.
As far as ring dunking goes, I
feel drinking the equivalent of
five beers at one time once in
your life in no way makes you
an alcoholic.
Thanks for that image of
women from Sudan having their
vaginas sewn up. Where does
Smiley get these stupid tidbits?
He should do himself a favor
and go to Sbisa yell this Friday
and cut on Sunday. He may have
a good time and earn a few
friends in the process.
Or he can sit on his butt and
think of new things to make up
about Aggie traditions.
Ben Braly
Class of’99
University is for the
use of the students
Once again, the University’s
administration has dealt a blow
to students.
The University Concessions
Committee, with its recent deci
sion to restrict sales by student
organizations, has joined an infa
mous list of other University offi
cials that seem to be doing their
best to ruin what should be an ex
citing college experience.
The committee along with
the regents, our friends at the
Pavilion and PTTS and other
administration officials seem to
have forgotten that their job is
to run a university that serves
the students.
Far too often these committees
and officials take the attitude that
we, as students, should be happy
with whatever regulations they,
hand down.
In fact, many act as if we
should feel privileged to be using
“their” buildings, “their” comput
ers and “their” parking lots.
What these officials seem to so
conveniently ignore is the fact that
the students, their parents, and oth
er taxpaying citizens of this state are
the reason they get paychecks and
have offices in which to formulate
policies seemingly meant to antag
onize the students.
I commend The Batt for its
challenge to the committee, and
I speculate that similar chal
lenges could be issued to almost
every agency and department on
this campus for many of their
questionable policies.
It is time University officials
realize that this is our campus —
they are here to serve us be
cause, after all, we are the ones
paying the bills.
Brian Bolstad
Class of’96
The Battalion encourages letters to the
editor. Letters must be 300 words or fewer
and Include the author’s name, class, and
phone number.
The opinion editor reserves the right to
edit letters for length, style, and accuracy.
Letters may be submitted in person at 013
Reed McDonald with a valid student ID. Let
ters may also be mailed to:
The Battalion - Mail Call
013 Reed McDonald
Texas A&M University
College Station, TX
77843-1111
Campus Mail: 1111
Fax: (409) 845-2647
E-mail: Batt@tamvml.tamu.edu
For more details on letter policy, please call
845-3313 and direct your question to the
opinion editor.