Page Two
CLARION
Tuesday, February l, 1977
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The Stereotype-
A False Issue
THE CLARION
February 1, 1977
By Gordon Bostic
Epiphany - The Story
Of The Wise Men
By Luke Osteen
It is disappointing to note that belief that there were
although much of the world three “wise men” probably
celebrates the birth of Christ, a comes from the fact that three
significant event following the gjftg were, offered to the child,
occasion goes scarcely noticed, \\rhether by design or chance, the
The feast of the Epiphany on gj^^g offer insights
January 6, commemorating the jnto the destiny of Christ. The
adoration of the Magi, seems to fjj.gt gjff^ jg significant in
have been buried over by an ^^g g gjff reserved for
avalanche of plastic Santas, Bob kings. One can’t help but be
Hope specials, and January 1 gniazed at the faith of the wise
hangovers. men in their beliefs, being willing
to present such a valuable
The story of the Epiphany commodity to a child born in a
reads much like a beautifully stable because the path of a star
constructed dream, full of indicated that he was to be a
mysterious characters and king. Frankincence, a rare scent
symbols. Apparently, shortly ygg^j worship gods in the finest
after the birth of Christ a band of temples, was also offered. The
priests from a strange Persian tjiird gift, myrrh, was an oint-
religion arrived in Bethlehem ment used to embalm the bodies
and offered the child three Qf the very wealthy, clearly in
special gifts. Very little is known (Seating that this God-king was to
about the Magi except that they
were the widely feared and
respected practitioners of a cult perhaps the most significant
which focused on a strange concept to come from the story is
m^ti^e of demonology that Jesus was for the first time
astrology, and magic (the word revealed to Gentiles and that
magic takes Its name from these they understood he was
people). Thet saw the universe as something very special. Do we?
a great battlefield between the n/u rue cf//vA/y
forces of Good and Evil and must ^
have been awed by the potential
of the Promised King Who was
Born in Bethlehem. Was He a
child of Light or Darkness?
Although it is often assumed that
there were only three Magi, there
is no way to estimate the true
number.
■ 'I don’t care what we turn into as long as we
can get out of these itchy outfits. ’'
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
The Brevard College yearbook, THE
PERTELOTE, has just been notified of still -k
another FIRST CLASS Honor rating for the ^
1976 book, by the Associated Collegiate Press ^
yt of the University of Minnesota, School of ^
j Journalism. The yearbook has been winning ^
J national awards since 1963. Bonnie Carter of M
^ Wake Forest was editor of the ‘76 book and M
)f-Mrs. C. E. Roy, adviser. ^
^'k'k-k'k-k'k'k-k'k'k-k'k-k'k'k'k-k
The CLARION
Brevard, N. C. 28712
I Member of Associated Collegiate Press and In
tercollegiate Press, Three-time winner of ACP’s First-
Class Rating. Published during the college session by **
students of Brevard College, The opinions expressed in
this periodical are those of the editorial board and not
necessarily those of the college.
»Editor-in-Chief
Sports Editor
Advertising Manager
Feature Editor
Deborah Shelton
Rick Olive
Gordon Bostic
Rhonda Pruitt
Staff
Matt Gilson, Luke Osteen
V Cathy Varner George Loveland
5 Photographer Doyle Williams
I Advisor Rhuemma C. Miller
^fubhc Relations Director JohnD. Eversman H
The dogma that men are not
supposed to show emotion is an
exhausted ideal that some
misguided “he man” concocted
to prove how virile he was. This
false doctrine has been
established in the latest epoch of
“modern day man’s life.”
Somewhere in the course of
history, man decided to displace
any visible indication that he had
the potential to express his
emotions. An emotion is simply
an effective state of con
sciousness in which joy, sorrow,
fear, hate, or the like is ex
perienced as distinguished from-
cognitive and volitionae states of
consciousness. Usually this is
accompanied by certain
physiological changes and often
Poetry Corner
i love winter evening
with shades drawn tight
a fireside chat and nearness
housed closely in from night
overt manifestation.
This stereotype “man” is
actually incommunicado. Ex
pression of one’s emotions is the
most primitive method of
communication.
In antiquity, during the act of
homage, it was customary for the
overlord and vassal to express an
overwhelming amount of
emotion filled poetry to express
his love for a fair maiden. Tears
would flush the eyes of one of
these chivalrous knights as he
conquered the affection of his
“lady love”.
Contemporaneously, men
consider the act of crying a sign
of effeminacy. This is a false
issue. There is not one man alive
today that has never shed a tear.
In a recent survey a series of
doctors have proved tliat sup
pressing the expressing of
emotions is physically
dangerous. Why should emotions
be confined to moments of
solitude?
yesterday
after you left me
i realize that in
this neon life i’m
living,
you were the candle
i love a winter evening
shadows dance to a phantom
memories tiptoe noiselessly
across the floor and hold my
rising
in the violet twilight
my world is reflected,
something soft and honest,
beauty in the wild
diffusion of memory,
sweet pressure
of breathtaking lilac
tones to my indigo
sky of spangled satin,
horizon blurs
to floral antique,
and my fantasy
freedom-life lost?
band
hand.
sky-born
look untothe eagle:
strong, silent, wild, free:
soaring, diving, fighting:
alone:
battle-scarred, wise:
ever young, ever searching:
my love is as the eagle.
setting sun
the sun whispered behind the hills
tiptoed across the trees
as it felt the night’s chills
and the evening breeze.
protect-her
dove-white walls
stretch in a tower
of emptiness
my mind - a pillar,
slick bare sides,
monotonous -
insanely even
the sky is clear and bright is the sun
on the ground there is frost and the
day is near done,
the snip in the air makes fall
seem to hover,
it’s an Indian Summer with
my Irish lover.
winter swirls
on the outside, and..frost creeps jagged
fingers down the sides
of my mind. , ,
while roots so long
an eagle that i flew too far away
sits perched,
shivering
on the tower rim.
to ever return
to you.
\'