March,3, 1969
N.C. Essay
Page ^
A-mOCITIES AT COLUMBIA
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tics, not abstract art, a world of
ovals and wiggly lines, far removed
from the realities of political
life.
And the conclusion of that lec
ture, I remember, was equally emba-
rassing. The Professor talked about
Khrushchev. Things were getting
better in the Soviet Union, he said.
As people demanded more consumer
goods, it would become an open so
ciety, just like the U.S.A. There
was still hope. It was a mawkish
and sentimental finish.
I aovHd remenber no one inci
dent which aaptupedmy feelings a-
houb the English Deparimentj but my
general impression was of a joyless^
hostile place. The Department sti
fled the pleasure of reading.
Laighter and tears were emotions to
he deposited outside the gates of
Colmhia. At the sane timej if li
ter at yre was interpreted in ways
which radically questioned the va
lues and ideas of the society, the
effort was frowned upon. I renerjber
talking about Heart o f Darkness and
Benito Cereno in a course on Conpa-
rative Literature. The topic was
the relationships between the white
man and the black man with respect
to colonialism in Africa and slavery
in America. The I^ofessor was sur
prised, shocked that I took litera
ture in a serious social sense.
Slavery, imperialian, the black man,
he noted, were strange sounding
words in a discussion of Melville
and Conrad.
Ill
The Columbia College which I
attended from 1959 to 1963 was a re
pressive institution. It penalized
specialized in academic atrocities.
It sustained the Cold War mentality.
I escaped. I fled to England, and
nov7 I teach English 60 miles away
at Stony Brook. That's too close,
Columbia seems to fell. So, they're
after my flesh and blood. From 1959
to 1963 it was the mind. Now, it's
the body.
And the body snatchers came.
On Friday, February 7th, 1969, al
most three months after Gus Reich-
bach's first tribunal, at 7:45 A.M.
two men from the DA's office arrest
ed me. They were servants of Frank
Hogan and the trustees of Columbia
University. The bell had awakened
me. I quickly put on a pair of
trousers, went to the door and open
ed it. Outside stood two, men in
shiny suits who looked like Fuller
Brush men. I wasn't sure, at first,
whether it would be toothpaste sam
ples they would be giving out, or
brooms they would be selling.
"Are you Mr. Raskin?" one of
them asked, handing me a copy of the
Nev7 York Times. I said I was, but
would they please come back later
because it was early, and I wanted
ABUSIVE LANGUAGE &
At 1 a.m., Friday, Feb.
three members of the Friends of
Progressive Labor Party (FOPL)
faction of Austin SDS were arrested
by 10 state cops wearing Dick Tracy
trenchcoats. Subsequently, Dick
Reavis, Howard Hertz and Garlos Aso-
car were booked for "abusive lan
guage."
The arrests stemmed from an SDS
rally on the University of Texas
campus a week before. A couple of
hundred people gathered to protest
the Administration's action in shut-
to get another hour of sleep. They
waved a photograph in my face, and
said they wouldn't take up much of
my time, but when I tried to close
the door, they took out their bad
ges . Cops. They showed me a war
rant signed by Mr. McGoey. It was
odd because oii one side it authoriz
ed the arrest of John Doe, and on
the other side is said John Doe, be
lieved to be Jonah Raskin. And in
the court room, the Judge first ad
dressed me as John Doe. There had
already been confusion about my
name. Most people assumed Jo
nah was only a mask, not my real
name. I wondered how long the jokes
about my name would go on.
While I washed my face, put on
a tie and jacket the two policemen
stood in my apartment hallway. They
seemed to be enjoying the posters of
Cleaver. I saw them shake their
heads and mumble a few words, and I
thought they must be saying, "yes,
this is the right place, all right."
There is also a phrase from Bleak
House in Gothic Letters on the
Wall—"Cunning, Folly, Words, Wigs,
Rags, Sheepskin, Plunder, Precedent,
Jargon, Gammon, and Spinach"—which
described the Law. 100 Centre
Street always struck me as a Dicken
sian place, and I thought it was ra
ther appropriate that those words
from Bleak House should be before me
as I went off to jail. Dig that i-
rony. Professors of English.
We went down in the elevator,
one cop on either side of me, and
whenever we were on the street, they
kept me between them. By the time
we had gotten downtown and were
walking from Centre Street to the
5th Precinct where I was booked, I
grooved on the situation. As we
walked through Chinatown I gazed at
rickety steps leading into dark cel
lars, looked sharply into old tene
ments, and watched the cops nervous
ly watching me. I had expected that
I would have been transported in a
squad car down to jail. Instead, I
sat in the back seat of the cop's
own private car. There was a plas
tic statue of Jesus Christ on the
dashboard. I knew we'd have a safe
trip.
I was charged with attempted
petty larceny and disorderly con
duct. On the 24th of February, I
NUDITY IN TEXAS
BY HARVEY STONE
ting down a production by the Cur
tain Club (a campus drama group) of
"Now tne Revolution."
During the first performance of
the "do your own thing" production,
one female member of the cast vi
ciously and with malicious intent
took off her clothes. And, horror
of all horrors, she was not wearing
a bra.
Several plain clothesmen were
at the rally. At one point the
crowd surrounded the cops, but noth
ing further happened. Apparently
the crowd was distracted by two dis
robing individuals.
Three other warrants have been
issued. The two people who undres-
sed have thus far escaped arrest.
THE STRUGGLE
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It's this next time
When you accept defeat
But sweat your last ounce of strength
in effort
That you find yourself standing
And you take one small timid
step
And then another
Of course you'll fall again
You'll continue to fall
(But only if you continue to rise)
But it won't matter
Because you've done it
You've walked
And you'll reach for that glory
with each fall
Forgetting the pain
For at the summit of that glory
Is love.
by Tony Sparger
must appear in court for a hearing.
Definately a case of derangement
from Low Library. A clear case of
repression and harassment. The de
humanized institution which had mis-
educated me now seeks to imprison
me. Thanks Columbia. Hats off to
the Gem of the Ocean, the Light
Blue, Alma Mater. I've seen the in
sides of jails and courts. I've
been treated to a glimpse of the
cold heart of the Imperial Univer
sity. Education at last.
by Jonah Raskin
LNS ~ LIBERATION News Service