Newspapers / Daily Tar Heel (Chapel … / Feb. 7, 1961, edition 1 / Page 2
Part of Daily Tar Heel (Chapel Hill, N.C.) / About this page
This page has errors
The date, title, or page description is wrong
This page has harmful content
This page contains sensitive or offensive material
""' "-'' 'r Pag Two THE DAILY TAR HEEL Tuesday, February 7, yiyni '-iu "' wF)wi 1 tf)e Bail? Car ?f eel ! j In its sixty-eighth year of editorial fuedom, unhampered by restrictions from either the administration or the student body. F i. The Daily Tar Heel is the official student publication of the Publico- ! Hons Board of the University of North Carolina. Richard Overs f reef, Chairman. All editorials appearing in The Daily Tar Heel are the personal expres- " sions of the editor, unless otherwise credited; they are not necessarily represen- t . t afire of feeling on the staff,. and all reprints or quotations must specify thus. - February 7, 1961 Volume LXIX, Number 91 Theatre Picketing Is Resumed A Time For Community Action Last night picketing was re sumed at the Carolina Theatre and began, for the first time this year, at the Varsity Theatre. No termi nating date has been set for this action; it is presumed that it will continue until the' managements relent or until the pickets get too tired and frustrated to carry on. Chapel Hill has a chance now to show its true color as a community. The myth of liberalism that has so long hung over this quiet little town will, in the next few weeks, be either substantiated or shat tered. Only the citizens will have the power to control the direction of the decision. The two motion picture theatres control almost all of our entertain ment, and the managers know this only too well. Except for television or an occasional Graham Memorial offering, every Chapel Hillian re lies for his relaxation on the splotchy offerings dished out by the cinemas. We will be interested to see how many of Chapel Hill's "liberals" will respond to the Negro cause by refusing to attend the theatres until the "closed door" policy has been lifted. We will note with in terest how many are concerned more with their entertainment than with the right of all to be entertained, whether their skin is white, black, yellow or any other shade. The managers of the two thea tres are forcing an injustice upon citizens of Chapel Hill. They are, to be sure, partially victims of chain management, but they have shown no desire to press the com munity's case. The manager of the Carolina Theatre has voiced, time and again a limp, unsubstantiated fear that he will lose his business if he integrates. The manager of the Varsity Theatre has been more receptive but has usually been "unavailable for comment." If there is any courage in Chapel Hill it will be shown by the citi zens who let their consciences hold sway over their less vital desires. If there is intolerance in Chapel Hill, it will be shown by the citi zens who hoot at the pickets and continue to patronize the theatres. A community choice is involved in this unfortunate situation. How will the community choose? An Important Statement Of Policy In less than a month the annual battle will be underway. The Stu dent Party, the University Party and a few assorted odds and ends will project their personalities and points of view into every nook and cranny of the campus. Fraternities and sororities, organ izations which are usually rather lethargic in character, will sud denly spring into action to see that the star pledges get elected to the honor council and the student council and that the biggest cat in the frat gets chosen class president. Spring elections, in short, are just around the corner, and with them the usual amount of prob lems. The Daily Tar Heel faces a number of these problems, and it is to them that we direct our at tention in this statement of policy. In the past it has not been the policy of this newspaper to endorse candidates for student offices; why, we do not know nor care to guess. At any rate, for this year that policy will be abandoned. We will endorse candidates, in this column, for president of the student body, vice president, secretary, treasurer 1 ll 1 1 f"-SE li i I Has tEIjc aUg filar feel JONATHAN YARDLEY Editor Watot Kinc, Mary Stewart Bakes Associate Editors Makgabet Ann Rhymes Managing Editor Edward Neal Rinbh Assistant To The Editor Henry Mayer, Lloyd Little News Editors Susaw Lewis Feature Editor Frank Slusseh Sports Editor Harry W. Lloyd.Ass Sport Editor John Justice, Dayts Youwc Contributing Editors Tim Burnett Business Manager Richard Woneh Advertising Manager John Jester . Circulation Manager Charles Wredbte Subscription Manager Ths Daily Tab Hess, is published dally except Monday, examination perioefs and vacations. It is entered ss second class matter in the post office in Chapel Hill, N. C, pursuant with the act of March 8. 1870. Subscription rates: $4 per semester, $7 per year. The Datlt Tar Heel is a subscriber to the United Press International and utilizes the services of the News' Bu reau of the University of North Caro lina. Published by the Colonial Press, Chapel Hill. N. C m i 8 1 If p p II if "we and editor of The Daily Tar Heel. Before making endorsements we will talk with each candidate, and attempt to arrive at a fair decision in each case. In no way are we attempting to "suggest that our word is law or that, in the final analysis, our choices will be the best choices. We merely conceive of our job as de manding such public statements. The editorial page will be open, as usual, to discussion of every point of view. No attempt is being made to add to a candidate's status through editorial endorsement; any status thus derived would be of a specious nature. We will meet with all candidates to discuss equitable means of dis seminating campaign news on an equal basis in the news pages of The Daily Tar Heel, and will make every effort during the campaign to see that news stories are objec tive and fair. What is said in this newspaper on the editorial page is not said on the first, third or fourth pages. At all times we will welcome student discussion, and will be glad to discuss matters of cam paign publicity with candidates or their campaign managers. A cam paign is news big news. We in tend to treat it as such, and hope to have the cooperation of every person 'involved. We believe that the failure of past editors to endorse candidates for the editorship has weakened the newspaper and in. some cir cumstances has led to the election of unqualified students. It is our belief that our observations in this office over the past year and our acquaintance with the possible candidates qualifies us to speak out with objectivity on each. c , A candidate, for the editorship of JThe Daily1 Tar Heel will be en dorsed" in these . columns. Other candidates-wilL have ample space on this page tof state their views. "Coition? What Coalition?" b f . .. - a- ; - E I ?K i V V, -w , . ; i ll Valkyries In Action The Invasion Prom ATars - "lteyr listen. Do you hear some kinda weird noise?" "No, I don't hear anything. Whatsa matter, you crazy or somethin'?" "No kiddin. Listen, Pete, there's some kinda gosh awful sound outside." "Oh look, wouldya relax? Man, you really kill me. Anything to keep from studying." "I'm not kidding I REALLY do hear somethin'. Put down your book and listen!" "Oh shut up and study. Jeez. Quiz comin up day after tomor row and you sit there scream in' about some fool noise. Last night it was your ear. Thought you had something in your damn ear. Look, if you don't wanna study, get outa here and leave me alone." "O.K., Pete, O.K. I mean you can't persecute a guy just 'cause he hears a noise and wonders what it is. LISTEN! There it is again you heard it didn'tcha you heard it this time, Pete boy!" "Yeah, yeah, I do hear it now." "What do you think it is, Pete?" "I dunno. Sounds kinda like a fire bell, or air raid warning or something." "AN AIR RAID! Pete man, this might be the end, an inva sion or somethin'. Look, you grab everything from here in the room while I go call my folks and say goodbye. AN AIR RAID! Pete, this is probably World War III, maybe. Or the Russians. Or Some fool people from Mars or some- Sam W. Howie The Struggle Continued On A Battlefield Somewhere The little boy came when he was called. He ran into the kitchen for supper all fresh and scrubbed and hungry. But his father noticed that the boy wasn't the same happy and energetic kid he usually was on a Friday evening, when school- was out for the week-end., There was something ' on his mind. His father didn't say anything though because, knowing his son's in satiable curiosity,, it was bound to come up sooner or later. They were eating now. The food was . good and warm and welcome. Then it , came, as the father had known it would. "Daddy, . are we going to have a war?" said the boy. The question hit the father like a hard-thrown rock. "Why do you ask, son?" he said, trying to cover up his surprise at the question. "Well, Bobby said ' today at school that his father said that we will be at war with Russia or China or Cuba in a few more weeks," the boy said. "Will we?" "Well, it's hard to ; say, son," said the man, knowing imme diately from the look on his son's face . how empty i5that an swer was. ' "How come we have wars any way?" the boy went on. "All I ever heard about them is that they just get a bunch' of people Jonathan Yardley killed and they don't really settle anything. Why don't every body know that .the Bible says that we ain't supposed to fight and everybody is supposed to be buddies?" "Well, that's hard to say too," said the man, knowing again from his son's face how empty that answer was also. How in the hell as I supposed to answer the kid? thought the father. What do you say in the face of such childhood innocence? How do I tell him that war might indeed come and there might be atomic weapons used and mil lions of people might be killed and we might lose to the Rus sians and th6 whole world might even be blown up? How do I tell him that he might be out on a battlefield himself someday with a gun in his hand, taught to kill his "bud dies"?, the man thought. How do I tell him that someday he might lie on the ground somewhere in the world with his body torn and mutilated and lifeless? That last thought brought a hard lump to the man's throat. He looked at his son sitting there innocent. He remembered when the boy was born " and all the plans he had for him high school, college, even law or med school if the boy wanted it. He remembered he had given the boy his first bicycle and how he had fallen again and again but stuck" to it-until he had learned how -to -ride. it. He remembered when he had taken the boy on his first hunting trip, when the fall woods were bright with color and ' melting ' frost. He remem bered : bow : ? the first covey of quail had. jumped up with a roar and left the boy ' standing there with a, look of utter dismay on his face; and how, when the next covey had jumped up, the . boy had killed one. The boy's voice brought him back to reality. "You won't let them have a war, will you, dad dy?" .' "No, I'll try not to," he said blankly. . ; The lump in the man's throat Susan Lewis ISffissingSmile Hiroshima . . . Mon A rnour If "Hiroshima, Mon Amour" is to be taken as a representative specimen of the latest results of France's "New-Wave" in motion picture production and direction, it might be said that the move ment excells in impact and ob scurity. The film is a powerful anti-war document, and at the same time, a touching love story. It tells, through the eyes and hearts and bodies of a French woman and a Japanese man, the tales of hor ror and anger that emerged from the Second World War. In documentary and quasi documentary film strips some of the incredible waste that was Hiroshima and France is shown, the waste of the land and the heart. The virtues of the film, at least for this reviewer, stop here, un fortunately. The direction and the dialogue pass the point of commonly accepted motion pic ture style and reach into a sur realistic world of their own that failed tot penetrate my inner con sciousness. This may be a reflec tion on my lack of perception; or it may be a reflection of the es sential failure of the film to com municate its meaning. Stretches of dialogue, inter spersed with strange shots and rapid cuts from past to present and back to past, leave the viewer confused and irritated. The at tempt to reach a philosophic plane on the celluloid screen is a failure; the vague abstractions in which the characters talk are not wise they are nonsensical. There is no drama to the story, and no compelling theme that ties beginning to middle to end. The shock effect of gruesome pictures is not sufficient cause to promote any real interest. The love scenes are handled with good taste, though they seem perhaps a little lascivious; there seems little need to titillate the viewer's fancy with a couple of well-concealed nudes lying in a bed. If you believe thta war is good, it might be well to watch this movie; the force of its pacifistic sermon is compelling and valu able. It is too bad, however, that no motion picture has succeeded in telling cf the horrors of war without relying for its box of fice appeal on - overdoing the demonstration of those horrors. Someone should teach the world how , to i, smile. It's , been a long time ; since f this world smiled a real smile; Eisenhower has smiled worr.edly,'; trying to convey an optimism w h i c h-. isn't there. Krushchev has smiled greedily, unable to. conceal his ambitions. Castro has smiled cruelly, think ing of the way he seized control of Cuba, There have been others: Churchill's " smile of dogged de terminism,. Hitler's smile of hate, Kennedy's smile of calculated charm, De Gaulle's smile of strain, Nixon's smile of forced cheer;- Dr. Tom. Dooley's smile of pained courage and Marilyn Mon roe's smile of studied sex. Maybe the world smiles as it does because it is disillusioned. It has hoped for so much and ac complished so little. Perhaps it smiles that sad way because its wounds hurt too much the old scars of Hiroshima, Berlin, Hun gary, Korea, and the festering sores of Little Rock, Havana, Leo poldville, Vientiane, Algiers, Sai gon and Taipei. Maybe the world has just forgotten how to smile. This world is old and battered. It has seen war, heartbreak, dis ease and death. It has watched brother rise against brother and nation against nation. It has known prejudice, hypocrisy, greed, complacency, ignorance, immorality, treachery, brutality and hatred. It has had too much fear and not enough love; too much intolerance and not enough understanding; too much doubt and not enough hope. It has for gotten that there is more to life than these ills, that goodness and hope still exist. But the world should rise above these failures and look to the future with faith. And its smile would be a badge of trust. stayed there as the boy went back to his supper with a look of peaceful trust on his face. You don't know just how much I wish I could keep them from having a war, boy, the man thought to himself as he looked at his son. You don't know just how much I wish all the sons in , Cuba and Russia and China would say the same things to their fathers that you said to me just now. Maybe, the man thought, if the fathers in those countries, and this one alike, heard their sons say the same things to them that my son just now said to me, then we wouldn't have wars any more. Maybe men everywhere should realize that when they help start wars over their own petty self interests and greed, they are creating a conflict and strife for their sons to have to fight. May be if more men could visualize their "sons lying on a battlefield somewhere in the world torn and shredded and lifeless, then they wouldn't start wars. And then the man came abrupt ly back to reality again, and he thought how truly close another war was. He looked at his son again. Strange, he thought, it would seem that little boys and fathers didn't exist. m thin'. Get up, Pete! Do some thin' quick!" "Wait a minute, man. Take it easy; let's don't do anything crazy. Let's just find out what it is before we do anything." "Hey listen, Pete, it's coming closer. Hey, Pete, it sounds like it's right outside the window! Right here on Franklin St.! Man! Wonder why they picked Chapel Hill to hit first? Reckon they're trying to bump ofT some profes sors" or something?" "Sure. Sure, professors. Whew. You make me sick. Why don't you just go to the window and see who's kicking up all the fuss? I mean if it's a panty raid we don't want to miss it." "Are you kidding me? Go to the window, and get my head blown off by some lousy Rus sian? Hey, Pete, don't look at me that way. I'm no coward. It's just . . . well. O.K., O.K., I'm going already." "Hey, Pete." "Yeah." "You're not gonna believe this, Pete." "What'sa matter?" "Pete, there are some monsters ouised."' "Monsters! Christ. What a way to spend an evening." "Waita minute . . . waita min ute . . . they're not monsters. They're people, Pete, real people. In some kinda black costumes with hoods! Hey it's probably the Ku Klux Klan. I betcha they're gonna burn a cross right here in front of the dorm!" "Man, you are so ignorant, sometimes I wonder how you even exist. The K.K.K. wears white robes not black ones." "Pete!" "What is it this time?" "They're going into that so rority house across the street!" "So?" "So get your coat on quick!" "Are you outta your mind? What for?" "To go over and protect all those females! They may be in mortal danger! We gotta rush over and save 'em!" "Oh egad. Move. Let me take a look out the window." "What's wrong, Pete? What's gotten into you? What's so damn funny? PETE!! For crying out loud, whadda you laughin' so hard about when all those girls are about to get attacked?" "Attacked? Somebody's going to get tapped! You know, tapped into Valkyries. Boy are you fruitty. Invasion! Ha! It's the Valkyries!" "Valkyries? Valkyries? Never heard of 'em." "Oh look. How long have you been in this university? The Val kyries is that honor thing for girls. You know, service and all that kind of thing. Now wouldya please sit the hell down and study!" "O.K., O.K., so I'm studying. So a fella can make an honest mistake once in his lifetime can't he?" "Pete." "W HAT!?!" "I'm thirsty. Let's go down to the Tempo for a beer." "I give up. I just . . . give up!! . . . O.K., get your coat . . . Let's go . Mariel O'Bell .... ,.f WWW.v'.w...v.wm . , ... .... II m 11 m Chapel Hill A fter Dark With Davis B. Young (Mr, Young's column "After Dark" will become a daily fea ture from Tuesday through Sat urday for the rest of the year. We welcome his regular return to the editorial page. Ed.) Throughout the coure of last semester, students continually barraged me with requests, com plaints, comments and other thoughts about this paper. My response was always the same, "go talk to Jon, Mary Stewart, Wayne or somebody working up there. I don't know what's going on." There were a number of rea sons for my absence from this page, a schedule featuring classes every afternoon, perhaps the most unattractive conglomeration of courses I've ever had, etc. The big reason, however, was that I was "talked out." I just didn't have anything I wanted to say. I needed to regroup my forces, look around at the Chapel Hill world, and re-define what is im portant. " . v With this accomplished, and my General College language re quirement finally completed after seven semesters, I return to up set your breakfast with new cru sades, liberal thought and radical ideas. So reader, beware! After I've mastered the technique of a daily column, we might all have some fun. Kemp, the Franklin St. French man, is again running his annual sale. For purposes of definition, an annual sale is one which lasts for a year. This time it's under the guise of a "Big Snow Party." Says Kemp, "THE DEEPER THE SNOW, THE DEEPER THE CUT IN PRICES." His Spring sale will be built around the slogan, "AS THE RIVERS THAW, SO DO OUR PRICES," his summer sale, "AS THE SUN GOES DOWN, OUR PRICES GO WITH IT," and his fall sale, "AS THE LEAVES FALL, OUR PRICES DROP TOO." Tell ya what Kemp, I'll flip you double or nothing on nine Beethoven symphonies. 4 V
Daily Tar Heel (Chapel Hill, N.C.)
Standardized title groups preceding, succeeding, and alternate titles together.
Feb. 7, 1961, edition 1
2
Click "Submit" to request a review of this page. NCDHC staff will check .
0 / 75