1
10The Daily Tar Heel Thursday. October 31, 1985
any
93rd year of
Arm; Rk;ki:rt
I Jit
Stuart Tonkinson
Ben Perkowski
Dick Anderson
Janet Olson
Jami White
Andy Trincia
Managing Editor
Associate Editor
Associate Editor
University Editor
News Editor
State and National Editor
Dem's da bricks
Get out your hard hats, it's construc
tion time again. Last Saturday, the UNC
Board of Trustees approved campus
sites for the construction of five new
buildings, among them a Security
Services Building (read that campus
police station) and an Alcohol Research
Center. The budget for the project is $40
million. Ironically, the board also
approved the construction of the Facil
ities Support Building, to be completed
long after the time it will be needed the
most, when the other five buildings are
in their planning stages.
The Facilities Support Building will
house the facilities planning, engineering
and construction offices. If there is one
thing this campus needs, it is the
coordination of these departments. The
campus suffers from a lack of any
consistent style or vision for growth.
Such coordination will help to avoid the
eclectic, ill-planned mess that now exists.
Finding a style for the new buildings
will pose no problem. The campus
abounds with fine examples of the latest
architectural trends:
20th-century Doughnut: Greenlaw.
What's not to like about a building with
no middle? So what if you don't like
to climb five flights of stairs to visit your
professor? Possible model for the
Mixed-up Mexico
Five weeks ago today, the first of two
major earthquakes shook down much
of Mexico City. For a week, the disaster
filled television screens and newspaper
headlines. Since then, the Achille Lauro
seajacking and pre-summit diplomatic
posturing have dominated the news.
Mexico has returned to the shadows.
That's bad, because the problems
awaiting the United States there are dire,
close to home and unlikely to go away.
Mexico has the world's richest market
next door and the oil reserves of a Saudi
Arabia. Banks and international lending
institutions have lent roughly $96 billion
for the creation of an industrial base to
tap the reservoirs of cheap, underem
ployed labor. But misguided nationalism
and corruption have spoiled these
opportunities and left the country nearly
bankrupt. The government has squan
dered oil revenues of roughly $15 billion
a year on glamorous but inefficient state
enterprises, while public officials have
accumulated fortunes. The customs
office was so corrupt that Mexico now
pays a Swiss firm to collect duties and
certify imports when they leave the
selling country.
For economic and strategic reasons,
to say nothing of humanitarian con
cerns, the United States should resist any
temptation to let Mexico stew in its own
juices. A Mexican default on foreign
Th e go ry I egacy
It was a dark and dreary night,1 not
fit for man nor beast. I entered Forrest
Theatre with a mixture of apprehension
and fear. A howl chilled the night air.
The hairs on my arms stood on end,
and mine eyes whipped to and fro more
freely than the gnarled gusts of wind.
What spirits could be abroad this night?
Aagh, it was too horrible to think about.
But soft, what twisted sound was this?
There! there! the wailing of my demon
lover!
Come closer., I glimpsed my Geral
. dine, one most fair with raven's hair.
She came in tresses wild with wave, wet
ashen lips and beauty beyond all rave.
She, lady of the rocks, close friend of
Madame So-and-so, the teller of the
cards.
Turning upon the darkness, she cast
her eye on mine and bid me follow.
"Come quick, lover, or thy fate shall not
remain in my hands." As I followed her
through the woods, the rasping leaves
began to breathe beneath my ; soles.
Wisps of green fog barred my way
at times she was lost from my sight.
We came to a place with fire, a brook,
and something else ... a fish that spoke,
"Beware, beware!" methought. And then
my lover spoke, "This is the place. Look
forth, the Castle of Ghymghoul." Afore
mine eyes there rose a tower of the grim
edifice, cast upon the moon as a scimitar
upon the heart of God. It was the
bleakest form that e'er mine eyes had
seen.
mar ihte
editorial freedom
and David Schmidt
Editor
Loretta Grantham
Mark Powell
Lee Roberts
Elizabeth Ellen
Sharon Sheridan
Larry Childress
City Editor
Business Editor
Sports Editor
Arts Editor
Features Editor
Photo Editor
campus police station training center
Concrete Box Revival: The Under
graduate Library. You want a building
where one desk can supervise three
floors? They couldn't possibly have
thought three large rooms would be
quiet enough for the whole undergrad
uate population to study in.
Early American Pueblo: New East.
The best thing to happen to this building
is the scaffolding currently hiding it.
Tower of Babel Revival: Kenan Labs.
There , must have been some language
complications. No one plans buildings
this ugly.
20th-century Pseudo-Greek Frat
Boy: They need a style for the Alcohol
Research Center, don't they?
Seriously, the puree of architectural
styles that afflicts the campus has its
roots in poorly planned outbursts of
expansion. Aesthetics can't be the only
criterion in designing a building, but for
too long monstrosities have arisen solely
because of utilitarian needs.
As the campus undergoes its latest
growth, a compromise needs to be
struck. Hopefully, the construction of
the Facilities Support Building will be
the first brick laid in the creation of a
University whose architecture is consist
ent, pleasant and functional.
debt would throw U.S. financial markets
into chaos, raising interest rates. The
damage to Mexico would be even
greater, pushing yet higher the present
million-plus annual illegal emigration
across the unsealable 1,500-mile north
ern border. In contrast to the Soviet
Union, the United States has been lucky
to enjoy 135 years of peaceful borders.
As political instability continues in
Central America, Mexico has become
a valuable bulwark.
To help our southern neighbors, we
should adopt policies geared to eliminate
the short-run debt crunch and the long
run poverty. A U.S. guarantee of private
bank loans would inspire demands for
equal treatment from other Latin
American nations, but more foreign aid
and greater contributions to interna
'tional lending institutions can help
alleviate more quietly the shortage of
foreign exchange. More Peace Corps
volunteers should be sent, and Mexican
agricultural students brought to U.S.
land-grant colleges to improve the
performance of the conspicuosly ineffi
cient Mexican farm sector. U.S. guaran
tees of reimport privileges should be
given to investors willing to send money
south of the border.
Watch Mexico. YouH hear about it
again soon if nothing is done.
of Ghymgh o u I
Wicked vines ravaged at my feet as
we ascended through thickets thick to
stand atop the hill. But then my love
was gone and to mine ears there came
a painful laughter. It was the Bhagwan
Shree Kakkar. In spriteful voice he
spoke these words: "The worst sin of
mankind is to receive without giving, to
leave without going, to keep without
showing."
Then mine eyes alighted upon the
stone, the very Rock of Gloucester. And
I shrieked with terror. From the still grey
stone coursed veins of blood, thick as
the arms of Spanish thieves set adrift
to die on scalded rafts. Mine eyes were
held by the pulsing rock that bled like
a living being. "Shantih, Shantih," came
the Bhagwan's fleeing words. "Datta,
Dayadhvam, Damyata." Then I was
alone.
The wind began to moan and the air
begot a whirling vortex of fog. Then of
a sudden came the blackest form that
e'er the night did bring, the solitary end
of all my visions.
A voice. I was transfixed. And the
. voice said:
"Nevermore ... Nevermore . . . Nev
ermore." Then the ghastly figure, dark
even in the darkness, let go a moan for
all the unspeakable pain of mankind.
And as he sang, I died.
In the morn, when the fingers of a
cold wind brushed my cheek, I rose to
disbelief. For there before me, beneath
the wretched Ghymghoul shadow, lay
the blood-encrusted Rock of Gloucester.
Good cheer
By MARK STINNEFORD
Tar Heel quarterback Kevin Anthony and an
unnamed editorial writer have lauded UNC fans
for recent signs of life in Kenan Stadium. Dont
take this too seriously. Terminally ill patients
hear this sort of thing all the time from well
meaning friends and relatives who smile and lie,
"Gee, you're looking great."
If fans are the 12th man, well rarely be called
for having too many men on the field. Other
ACC schools show more spirit at jayvee field
hockey games than we do at Kenan.
What is so baffling is that fans who are so
rabid at Carmichael become docile when they
enter the football stadium. Perhaps the psychol
ogy department, tired of spewing noxious rat
fumes from Davie Hall, is lacing Carolina Cokes
with sedatives as part of some mass experiment.
But it's more likely that Carolina fans, long bred
on Tobacco Road's basketball tradition, have
never learned to cheer at football game. For
them, I would like to offer the following tips.
I don't know much about football, but I know
how to yell, and my timing is pretty good.
Dress. Casual clothes make for a more
comfortable cheering experience. Jeans, Carolina
sweatshirt and sneakers are recommended. Suits,
ties, and dresses are out. You can hardly cheer
when you're being choked by a necktie, and it's
hazardous to jump up in delight after a great
play or to cuss the referee wheh you're wearing
high heels. Actually, the obnoxious practice of
dressing up for games was started years ago when
a wedding party bound for Forest Theatre wound
up at Kenan by mistake. They decided a football
game sounded a heck of a lot more fun than
getting married, so they sat down and watched.
Members of Greek organizations and Granville
residents, thinking they were being left out of
some new fashion trend, started dressing up too.
Game time. While this is rarely printed on
tickets, you can usually find it in a local
newspaper. Unlike most partiespeople will not
think you a boor if you arrive on time. Think
of it as a suspenseful movie whose plot you won't
Gamble dismissal serious threat to Campus Y
r u i: . . .
To the editors:
who would
The Campus Y has for years been
a center of progressive thought and
student-oriented action at UNC.
The philosophy of students taking
charge and taking a stand is a vital
part of the university experience and
subsequent learning process.
. We, the co-presidents of Campus
Y, see the most integral element of
this unique chemistry threatened
through the sudden dismissal of
George Gamble, the current asso
ciate director. For three years
George has represented the stu
dents' viewpoint to the best of his
ability. He recognizes and perpe
tuatates the philosophy that makes
the Campus Y the dynamic organ
ization that it is.
So what are we to think when
a new director enters the Campus
Y and dismisses "without cause"
and, furthermore, without explana
tion a great asset to a great
organization?
First, we resent the action alto
gether because of its unethical and
immoral treatment of an employee
who has best represented what the
Y stands for. Second, we feel
alienated by both the current direc
tor and her supervisors, Edith
Wiggins and Donald Boulton in
Student Affairs, who refuse to
comment upon the "administrative
decision." We do not feel as if we
can passively sit back and accept
such a decision that is so adverse
to the philosophy of the Campus
Y. Third, we are concerned about
the leadership style of a director
To the editors
A code more
By STUART TONKINSON
Sometimes you can smell danger. Sometimes
you can imagine danger reaching his icy fingers
from the surrounding shadows, creeping closer
and closer. Sometimes you can hear danger in
every scrape, every clunk and every splash.
At 3 a.m. that night, I could hear, see, smell,
touch and feel danger. But I didn't care. I was
on assignment. My name's Biff Crockett,
national student legal counsel. Where was I? The
basement of Davis Library at UNC.
I was at UNC to help a girl, Charlie, who
had skipped an exam and was now suffering for
it. I was underground to meet a contact, a guy
his mother called Scott Carlson, a guy students
knew by another name Curve Buster. To me,
he was important for another reason: a graduate
student in classics, Buster had been at the school
since the first NCAA championship. If anybody
could tell me what I needed to know, it was
him.
"Yeah, Crockett, what you need?" he said
reluctantly.
"Facts," I told him. "I got some questions
about the Honor Code. Seems to me it's got
some weaknesses."
"Man, you ain't even begun to figure it out,"
he chuckled. "Look. What say I help you some?"
I cocked my head. "For example, it says in this
,here Honor Code that faculty members should
'be present in the classroom during an exam
ination' if he thinks he needs to be."
I thought I'd heard everything. This one blew
me away. "You mean, they make students sign
an honor pledge saying that they have neither
given nor received aid in an examination only
to totally invalidate that pledge by telling profs
to monitor the students? How is the pledge
supposed to mean anything if the profs are always
putting out the maximum effort to catch
cheaters? If it's obvious that the profs don't trust
the students and are watching them as they take
the exam, then the student will no longer feel
responsible for his own moral decisions. It then
is left to the teacher to enforce the Honor Code,
not the students, and without that freedom to
isn't bottled or tailor-made
MAT A PA& J "WIS IS
OR. v VISITOR?
be able to catch if you miss the opening scene.
Also, allow yourself some time to master the
seat-numbering scheme. Every ticket is unique
No two fans will be assigned the same seat. And
remember, the person who is the rudest in any
argument over seats is always in the wrong.
Alcohol. If you must drink, save it for the
post-game celebration. Carolina cups are made
with an unusual substance, developed by
researchers at State College, that reacts with
alcohol and afflicts drinkers with a strange
sickness. Imbibers lurch against .fellow fans and
douse them with their drink just before throwing
up on them. Because of the special nature of
the chemical in these cups, drinkers always
commit these atrocities against non-drinking
fans. In the midst of this unpleasantness, both
READER FORUM
dispose of such a
opinion. Why is it being
quaniied associate as George Gam
ble. One would think George's
knowledge of the Campus Y and
his extensive contacts within the
community would be a valuable
asset to a new director and would
certainly outweigh any personality
conflict that might exist between
them. It seems blatantly obvious
that the decision to dismiss George
Gamble is not in the best interests
of the Y. This is the students'
The administrative controversy
that currently plagues the Campus
Y has the potential to severely affect
the Y's programming. This is yet
another inconsiderate aspect of such
an unexplained dismissal. Yet, we
and the Y membership as a whole,
can overcome this and continue the
positive, student-oriented program
ming that we are accustomed to. At
the same time we must make
ourselves heard. An injustice has
Abortion must be a persona decision
I must respond to Ted Hessel
roth's letter ("Abortion Ameri
ca's sanctified destruction," Oct.
28). Ted, I have taken Philosophy
22 under Larry Thomas, and I
strongly suggest that you do the
same. He presented both sides of
the argument and left us to choose
what we felt was right. Both sides
have valid arguments, but just listen
to the way this philosophical argu
ment goes (from my Phil 22 class):
I kidnap you, Ted, and hook you
up to a famous violinist because he
will die without you and he needs
the continuous use of your kidneys
for, let's say, nine months. Your
rights have been violated, correct?
But this violinist has a right to life,
correct? You could disconnect
yourself and walk out and let this
man die. Sure, it might be nice if
you hung around for nine months,
against your will, and helped this
man out, but it is not mandatory.
This case is exactly analogous to a
woman who has been raped. She
has been forced against her will to
support a child who will die without
her.
Notice I have assumed that the
fetus is a living human. Personally,
I think that a fetus is about as much
like a human as "an acorn is an oak
tree." These ideas are not my own
and I hope I have related them
correctly.
Now, if you wimp out and say,
"Well, abortion is wrong except in
the case of rape," you set yourself
up for big problems because every
woman who wants an abortion will
say they have been raped.
If you say that the" violinist died
because of your passive actions (i.e.,
you did not help him, but you did
not kill him) and the fetus died of
active actions (i.e., the doctor cut
it up and dragged it out), you still
lose. If I cut the umbilical cord
honored in
choose dishonor, students can never learn the
value of being honorable."
"Exactly," Buster said. "But I got more for
ya. The Honor Code also says that during
examinations faculty members should, if
possible, require students to sit in alternate seats
to "reduce the possibility of cheating.' "
"You're telling me that it's not enough to sign
a pledge saying you won't cheat," I said, "the
profs have to make it so you can't cheat! But
if you dont have that opportunity, how can you
ever develop a sense of right or wrong? If moral
decis "
I smelled it a split-second before Buster did,
and that was all it took. The smell of chalk,
the smell that could only be on the hands of
a . . . prof.
"Mr. Buster," the prof said, Jooking utterly
clean and perfectly groomed behind his shades
at 3:30 in the morning. "We've noticed some
problems with your . . . academic reacord.
Something about your undergraduate
perspectives."
"Aiigh! Get outa here, man, 111 cover for ya,"
Buster said as he shoved me to the exit. "Just
get that damn administration for me."
Unarmed as I was, I decided to run for it.
Buster was a goner, I knew that. But I still felt
guilty. I felt responsible for his fate. And that
made me angry. I was determined to avenge him.
It didn't take me long to do some checking.
Then I went back to the person who started this
whole, long, bloody mess of a journey Charlie,
the kind of girl I had spent most of my life looking
for.
I went to her dorm room in Cobb. Her door
was open, the lighting was subdued and a bad
Phil Collins tune was playing.I didn't notice any
of that, however.
What drew my eyes was the luscious babe on
the bed wearing nothing but a Garfield T-shirt,
her curly red hair falling halfway down her back.
"Hey, lover," the babe whispered.
"It wont work, kid," I snarled. "1 may be slow,
but I'm not one of your fratty baggers. I'm onto
your game."
"What are you talking about?" she pouted.
"You. You told me you were a psych major
groups are effectively taken out of the cheering
process.
The Wave. Let's hope for low tide. The best
cheers have something to do with the action on
the field. During the Wave, fans are too busy
watching each other to get behind the team
Imagine the befuddlement of a UNC running
back who made a first down in a recent game,
just to be greeted by boos from the student
section. The fans had missed the play because
they were venting their displeasure at people in
the North grandstand who didn't feel like
. imitating a tsunami. Obviously, the spirit rousers
must put something in the game for those who
don't know a touchdown from a meltdown. Let's
, just leave it until the team has the game safely
out of reach of the opposing team.
Third down. These are big plays whoever has
the ball. It is not the time to hum the Hawaii
Five-O theme. Every time you see a "3" pop
up on the down indicator on the scoreboard,
you should get up and yell like you would if
a campus security officer confiscated your flask.
Referees. If you cant figure out the system
of downs, just abuse the officials with abandon.
When they move the ball in a direction that seems
contrary to our team's game plan, you may.
question their parentage and advise them to get
a red-tipped cane. Do not compare their actions
to bull excrement, however. This is uncreative
and only acceptable in stadiums north of the
Mason-Dixon Line. If they make one of their
rare good calls, you may call them scholars and
predict that they're bound for the NFL.
When to cheer most. Nobody needs to tell
you to what to do when the defense makes a
great goal-line stand or when Earl Winfield
makes one of those one-handed catches in the
end zone. But the test of a true fan is if he can
get behind the team when it's 14 points down
going into the fourth quarter.
Finally, if you find yourself at Kenan, and
you just don't know what to do, pretend it's a
basketball game and yell like hell.
Mark Stinneford is a senior journalism major
from Raleigh.
ienored?
been done to a fine associate
director, and the role of this "stu
dent organization" on campus has
been threatened.
If you have questions concerning
the dismissal of George Gamble
please attend a meeting in room 205
of the Student Union at 4:30 today.
Roger Orstad
Kim Reynolds
co-presidents
Campus Y
(analogous to disconnecting the
violinist), the fetus will still die. The 1
end is the same for the fetus.
Of course, if you say that all forms
of active murder are wrong, then
killing in self-defense can never be
legitimate. If I came at you with a
knife and you threw a rock at me
in self-defense and I subsequently
died, you would be responsible for
actively murdering me.
For any argument you give, I can
give an example that would justify
killing. The bottom line is that
abortion must be a personal deci
sion. The woman must be comfor
table with her decision. Nothing you
can say can prove that it is morally
wrong to kill. Ted, I would like to
see you tell a 14-year-old girl who
may die if she has a baby, that even
though she was raped by her father,
she cannot have an abortion.
David Malin
Durham
the breach
named Charlie. Psych department told me they
never heard of you. I found your photo, though,
on the top of the desk of the associate dean for
adding unnecessary perspective requirements."
"S-so?" she asked haltingly.
"So tonight I was attacked by a prof well
armed with the latest in perspective requirements,
requirements he could have gotten only from
one man your husband." She sunk on the
bed, now just a limp weed compared to the full
bodied rose I had blindly believed her to be.
'Yes, ma'am. I know the truth now. With Big
Bill Friday planning to leave the presidency next
year, there was bound to be a power-play among
all the higher-ups at the university. Your husband
wanted to be the next UNC president, but he
was worried about competition from the
associate dean for questions about the honor
code. So you hired me knowing that I would
be shocked by his hypocritical abuse of honor.
You hoped I would bring him down, leaving
your husband with a clear path to Big Bill's seat.
I only got one question: Why attack Buster?"
She looked hatefully at me, then answered:
"He knew too much, and he kept writing nasty
letters to The Daily Tar Heel. We were afraid
that one day he would write about us."
She wasn't through. She smiled. "I promise
HI make it up to you." Garfield began slowly
climbing up her chest. The moment was now
or never.
"Too late, babe. It's over for you. The
judgement has been rendered, sentence is hereby
passed. You're going to have to buy what's left
of Buster's meal plan." It was harsh, but she
deserved it.
"Crockett, how could you?"
How could I answer? I loved her, I ached for
her, but I knew I had to turn away. It was raining
outside, but I didnt care. I was through with
Chapel Hill, I decided. I climbed into my Saab
and drove as quickly as I could out of the town
where I had fallen head over heels in love with
a flake.
Stuart Tonkinson, a senior English and history
major from St. Louis, is managing editor of "The
Daily Tar Heel.