Newspapers / Daily Tar Heel (Chapel … / Oct. 2, 1955, edition 1 / Page 2
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rzz two THIS DAILY TAR--HSEL SUNDAY, OCT- m - Sohctive Breeding: v A Freedom Tradition - For The DTJk Phi : When the Philanthropic Assembly chose last week to debate the delicate topic of se lective breeding of peopleT we resolved Puri tanically to roundly condemn this fine de bute club for picking such a subject. The Phi (and its Mster and similar organi yarion. the -Dialectic Senate.' were founded'in July, 1795. And behind them lies a hm and glorious tradition (f student expression and freedom. Thus, we decided, such frisolnus topics as selective sex weren't appropriate. " . No Had Off Limits But, looking back over the founcliiig tale of these two-debating societies, we've decided that no subject if sanely and rationally handled is really off limits for the Di and Phi. " . - The Di, from the very beginning, under took "to inspect the conduct and morals of the members." And, in doing so, the Caro lina traditionfor student self-government was born a tradition "that has thrived and wid ened in scope almost every year. The Phi, during its initial year of exist ence, petitioned the faculty forreinstatcnicnt of a member who had himself; expelled from Carolina for drunkenness. The society prom ised the faculty that it would be responsible for the boy's conduct, and the faculty agreed. ! As -years' went by, the faculty turned more and more disciplinary matters over to the Di and Phi. By 1884, memberstip in one of the two' societies was compulsory- The Di and Phi were truly the seeds of the Univers ity's student government. ' Forum of Freedom When the University grew, the Di and Phi were 110 longer centers of government. However, their function as a forum for free student expression continued iMitil today. In recent-? years, when the Red scare has ', silenced many in colleges from speaking their minds, the deb: te floors of the Di and Phi have been open, free, loud, and controvers ial. Aside from this newspaper, the floors of the Di and Phi are the only places on campus where any student may speak his mind freely ai)cp without undue restraint. ; (The class- ;toqiii,; previously hi the : open forum category, ha grown too -.large for such purposes.) , As for the absurd topic of selective breed- iiTT i nfonip. whirh fhf Phi fnrk'lpd' Inst- .4 '... x 1 ' . - 7 ..... week, we see it as an interesting topic, one in which all the complications of sex-snobbery could be discussed, one which is not without Iiumor and light hearts. But, more important, is clearly demon strates the-eonfplete freedom enjoyed by the Phi (and Di, for that matter) to discuss what ever topic enters their collective miids. And We're glad about it. liquid Refreshment: ' f Tamers Tradition ; . . The crowds in local beer-drinking estab lishments formerly reminded us of time wasting congregations, but a professor has given the delightful pastime a new and sig nificant slant. . When the framers of the U- S. Constitu- :,.-. :.. u : t .1 ..i. 1 . t it . r- - if 11 ifiiiiiii 1 .11 uif'ii wfif- 111 "A imt'ii iiir-i-r ......... ....... . . . . . III III i IV II Jllwl c compromising mood about a- keg of brew in the Indian Queen Tavern. Wl&t 3&ailj Wat Hee The official student publication of the Publi cations Board of the University of North Carolina, F fv where it is published 1 ' s I f . t t I i . - 1 I , aim cAduunavion ana p i vacation periods and - I ll summer terms. Enter- ea as second class matter in the post of fice in Chapel Hill, N. r 1 c, under the Act of I y March 8, 1879. Sub- j 1 1 ed, $4 per year, $2.50 - j semester; delivered U 56 a year, $3.50 a se- 7 mester. ED YODER. LOUIS KJtAAR r . s Managing Editor : FRED FOWLED GE Business Manager BILL BOB PEEL Afcsuciate Editor J. A. C. DUNN , m ..i ..,.,. . , .., 1 m -I .-ini .1 , . , ... 1 11 Tr I, , , , , News Editor . J JACKIE GOODMAN NEWS STAFF Neil Bass, Charles Dunn, James Niciols, Mike Vester, Bennie Baucom, Bunny Klenke, Ruth Rush, Curtis Gans, Jimmy Purks, Joan McLean, Nancy Link, Bill Corpening, Vir ginia Hughes, Clarke Jones, Wilson Cooper, Char lie Sloan, Jerry Cuthrcll, Peg Humphrey, Nancy Rothschild; . r Carolina Front Tofluclc Pcgo: A Dcr!c Horse In lielMand tar Dunn 'POTLUCK POGO Walt Kel ly's latest stroke of only-slight-ly - subhuman Okeefenokeean chronicling, has recently slam med the bookstands a resound in blow to the collective smalls of their collective . paper backs. , W e read f through our " , copy (courtesy of the Intimate v ' Bookshop) in - ' t record time, .chuckling in ; wardly, guffaw- ing,' and ".occa sionally hanging Jimply over ihe arm of bur chair and skrieking with uncontrolled, maniacal ' laughter. Walt done ddod it again. We liked particularly the crack about the octopus who couldn't operate a hot string vi olin quartet because as soon as he got all four violins going he didn't have a leg to stand on; was subsequently given a bagpipe by his parents to console him,' but fell in love with the bagpipe be cause it was the first plaid oc topus he had ever seen; offered the bagpipe all eight hands In marriage and got no answer, ancj finally got a job waving goodbye on pier 42. --Baffls Is On- Club Writer H urnanmes English C-aWng Tends I o Discredit & Elisha Douglas c D allenged: namenicu cmage Them tlight Editor-For This Issue Rucben Ieonard THE BOOK goes on in typical ly zanyKeUy vien for 179 pages. As we said, we never put it down. However, this is 'the first time Mr. Kelly has ever inserted a chill into his cartooning. Part of. this chill we received not from ' the drawings themselves, but simply from the fact that we had read some of the episodes else where before: we had read about the thinki0 contest between Beauregard Bugleboy and Albert; we had read about Bun Rabbit "carrying the hose" when Albert gets stuck in a bird house; we had read about the Hon. Mole Macaroney trying to find a "mys :.terious stranger" ; in ; a bucket.- This gives us an uncomfortable feeling What is happening to Mr. Kelly that he doesn't write new Pogo for a new Pogo book? Any one who says Mr. Kelly is drying up and can't go on inventing please follow their judgment with the qualification that it isn't true. Kelly's the cream in our coffee, heV the lace in our shoe. BUT THE principle contribu tion to the aura of macabre chill in 'Potluck' is something we fear will be hard to explain clearly. Underneath all of Mr. Kelly's cheerful insanity and alluring nonsense we find a shadow. The brightness, the hail-fellow-well-said - the - hell - with - the -next - page - until - we - get - to it feeling, the airy and hearten ing disdain with which Mr. Kelly picks up the world's problems, examines them down an inky nose, smirks casually, and lacer ates them; all this does not, we suspect, originate in a bright, hail-fellow, airy, disdaining, and smirking person. We cannot quite say why we feel this way, but the impression we get of some sol emn, silent, despondent gloom behind the sparkle of Pogo is unmistakable. It may be the poetry that makes us feel that way. AU of Mr. Kelly's poetry we had read before Totluck' we found rath er sad and mournful in a gentle sort of way "and this never 'wor ried us. But , there" a poem" in the beginning of 'Potluck that is more cheerful, and "some imp of perversity prods us to see, an even deeper despair in the Kelly shadow as a result. And furthermore, in Mr. Kel ly's postscript, the last sentence has stuck with us immovably for the two or three days elapsed since bur reading of , the book: "In this dark when we all talk at once, some of us must learn to whistle." Maybe we're nuts; maybcwe're on the wrong track altogether; maybe all this suspicion of mor bidity is a figment of what, in our less inhibfted moments, we are wont to call our imagination. But it seems t0 us that there is too much profundity in Pogo for Mr. Kelly's brilliant drawing and satire o be nothing but fizzy gaity. There's a dark horse in thi cast somewhere. (Mr. Douglas, of the Univers ity History Department, is the author of Rebels And pemo crats.) Editors: . A few days ago the English Club, in its opening pronounce ment of the year, deplored the fact that the humanities are often advertised try faculty members as "practical" subjects in an at tempt to convince students of their value. It is intimated to the students, the Club continued, that the mastery 0f the humani ties' will in some subtle way in crease their earning power. This policy, according to the Club, is both a deception practiced on the students and an attack on the true glory of the humanities. The humanities are not ' practical.. They are things of the spirit, a precious heritage from the past, and their main purpose is orna mental. Like all beautiful' things they should be loved for them selves and' not for' what bene fit they can confer on those who show interest in them. 'PRACTICAL INDEED' So runs the argument of the English Club. But as one who believes and has often said that the humanities are very practical indeed, I should like to raise a few objections for the Club's consideration. In the first place, I would agree entirely with the contention that a mastery of the "humanities does not necessarily increase the financial reward one expects to find in business. Certainly the cash value of the humanities is low, as the size of the salaries of teachers in this field demonstrates. But it does not follow, as the Club indicates, that "because the humanitieshave little cash value they are "im practical." : Practicality is meas ured; in, a. rnuch' rnore valuable coin that dollars and cents. All means which enable the individ ual to adjust successfully to his environment, which give the un derstanding and tolerance of fel low men necessary for societal Hiving, which promote individual and group decisions most con ducive t6 the general welfare these achievements are much more practical in the long run than the acquiring of a large bank balance. Success, then, measured in terms of rewards to the individual, means much more than material prosperity. The formulas for, suc cess, in this larger context, are almost as numerous as the num ber of men who have lived on this earth, but a well-balanced education has usually been con sidered an important ingredient. It is with in this f ram work of balance that the humanities play an important part. NO ORNAMENT t Down through the generations the humanities have been con tributing to the understanding man has of himself, his neigh bors, and his universe. Their con tribution has not "been as im mediately evident as that of the occupational studies, or even of the social "sciences. While the former? group of subjects pro vides economic security and a useful and rewarding life work, and while the second group at tempts t0 find solutions for a broad range of social problems, lusfico Br: & "r W 1te(4- Jlw the . contributions of the human ities seeiri vague, undefined, and intangible. Indeed, a convincing demonstration of this point is the apparent inability of the English Club "to find any, purpese in them. If students of the hu manities consider their subject an "ornament" useful primarily for the titillation of esthetes, then less erudite observers may be pardoned for . failing to see 'practical value in these studies. A positive demonstration of the value of the humanities is''-admittedly difficult, but a negative demonstration can be more fruit ful:; Supposing in out burgeon ing technological civilization; we had no history 6-r literature. Bath tubs, refrigerators, sports Cars and atom bombs -yes, but no Shakespeare, V alt Whitman, or Wordsworth, no memory of the American Revolution or th ori gin of the Constitution, no doc trine of states-rights: Would we be as well off? It would fake a hardy and an ignorant man "to say yes: If history may be de fined broadly as the collective and rationalized memory of the race, then a race without history is a race with 'amnesia. Without., a fund of experience' to draw upon for decisions, it would find rational action as difficult as would the individual man with such an affliction. Inevitably" it would destroy itself. A race with out literature would certainly be impo verisned esthetically; but worse, it would be deprived of its more fruitful source of in formation regarding the stand ards and values; necessary for the happy life for the" under standing of the emotions, and for the cultivation of the ' sym pathy and understanding of the fellow man mdtspensible for so cial living. .CARRY A MESSAGE v The great works of literature, thercforejare practical because . they , carry a message which cah be incorporated into the fund .of experience Wiich produces ra tional decisions. The message is often obscure and intangible, to be sure, but it ' is none ' the less read: Works of art 'are not re ceived on Mount Sinai; they are produced by fallible , men under imperfect conditions.' The jgloomy Dane lives on, not , because of Shakespeare's poetry but because of the terrifying picture of what can happen when a man who can not make up his mind is pre sented with decisions of life and death. The poetry of Words worth is immortal not.becapse of its rhyme -and meter but because of its revelation of the intimate union of man with nature. The orations of Cicero are read not because theyi are fine Latin but because they give insight into the meaning and standards of public service. The list might bfc indef initely extended,' and although individual ' interpretations ; as ' to ie exact message ;of " any liter ary work of art will 'always vary, it cannot be doubted that mes sage is there. - - "v-v.- ",: UNFELT INFLUENCE Any apparent impracticality in the humanities comes ' hot from internal deficiency bat from manner in which these studies impart education and from the widely held impression that they arc in fact impractical. Obvious ly a fine play, for example, 'docs not' put its point' across with the clear precision' 'of an experiment vm mm mi "torn : William O. Pounlas In Poters V. Ho!;!iy Confrontation and cross-examination under oath are essential, if the American ideal of due pro cess is to remain a vital'" force in our public life; We have here a system where government with all its 'power and authority con demns a man to"" a suspect class and the outer darkness, without the rudiments of a fair trial. The practice of using faceless informers has apparently spread through a vast domain. It has touched countless hundreds of men and women arjd ruined "many. It is an un-American practice w,hich we should Condemn. It de prives "men of "libcfi yT , within the meaning of the Fifth Amend ment, for one of -jnan's most pre cious liberties ' is "j is! right to work. When a man is deprived of that "liberty"' without a fair trial, he is denied due process.' If hcwcre condemned by Con gress'" and made ineligible for government employment, " he would suffer a bill of attainder, outlawed by the Constitution. An administrative agency the crea ture of Congress certainly can not exercise powers that Con gress itself is barred from assert ing. Those who see the force of this in Chemistry I; the philosophy of Josiah Royce does not reveal itself with the brilliance of an atomic explosion; the poetry of "Walt 'Whitman is not as explicit as ;a railway time table.. Yet the influence of the humanities is none the less significant for be ing unfelt; In all of the great literary works and in history we see a constant procession of peo ple reacting to problems, some times effectively and sometimes futiiy. We instinctively evaluate the wisdom of their" ' decision " we see a solution they missed," or a" better solution than the one they took. ! ' "' Throughout the long process of a study of the humanities, then, a slow- and perhaps unconscious education is being acquired. We are accumulating vicarious ex perience f Of a type which will enable us ' to handle effectively " the' types of problems which im pinge most closely' upon our so cial living. We are coming to un derstand human 'nature better, we are able to form more accu rate judgments' on what relation ships and attitudes in human af fairs bring the most favorable re sults. ' This is not the conscious edu cation of required courses, grades, and quality points; it is a con tinuation of the silent educa tion of growing up, of coming to maturity." In this ' case the hu manities, by imparting vicarious experience, advance the maturi ty lever beyond what is possible with personal and actual experi ence. In a pharse, education in the humanities is education in how to live. What more practical objective can education have? PILLAGE BY ESTHETES Believing that the humanities are impractical is a fine way of making then son, for this is just one of several means of pillaging them '.of "their message. Those esthetes who attempt o snatch them from the catagory of prac tical education, who attempt to mould them into a liturgy for the esoteric enjoyment of an in tellectual elite, constitute one of the greatest dangers facing the humanities today. If the humani ties are interpreted in such a way as to lose the common touch, their educational and therefore practical value will be "gone. "In some fields the kidnapping of the humanities has already progress ed rather far. The painters who have made art a display of psy choneurosis and the musicans who glory in barbaric yawps have gravely injured their media " of artistic expression." By refusing to acknowledge the responsibility of artists to say something un derstandable to someone ejse be sides a coterie of confederates in confusion, they have heaped rid icule upon themselves and their work. Art does not deserve the name unless it can evoke a fairly uniform artistic response from rational observers. " The esthetes have not gone as far as the .artists and musicians in discrediting the humanities, but they appear to have taken the same road. It will be unfortun ate to say the least, if those who believe in the practical edu cation' value of the humanities should by default allow allega tions of ' impracticality f o spread. ( the day should ever come when we re ad Cicero soiey to '.'get sent on his style, we might 'all better jitterbug to Perry Comd. nformers position counter by saying that the Government's sources "of in formation' must be protected, if the' campaign against subversives is to be successful. The "answer' is plain.' If the sources of infofma tioh need protectionrthey should be kept secret. But once they are used to destroy a man's rep utation and deprive him of his "liberty," they must be put to the test of due process of law: The use of faceless informers is wholly at war with that con cept. When we relax our stand ards to accommodate the face less informer, we violate our basic constitutional guarantees and ape the tactics of those whom we despise. ' - Is 'Dixieland' io Sunive ; . The Crowbar? Paul B. Mason ASHEV1LLE What is going to happen to "Dixieland", the famous Thomas Wolfe house on Spruce St. in Asheville? That is a question which may find its answer next week at a meeting Monday of the Thomas Wolfe Memorial Association, on the famous writer's birthday. This group has planned for more than five years to take over the old boardinghouse from t'Look Homeward Angel". But accord ing to Wolfe's sister, Mrs. Mabel Wrheaton, the financial portions of these "plans" have never been completed. r Mrs. Wheaton is now anxious to see the house set in a more permanent trust if citizens of the state feel that it is of suf ficient literary value to preserve. "What do you think?", she in quired 'several weeks back. "Is it worth 'keeping?' To those who know the sister of Tom Wolfe, there is little doubt reported in the way that she feels. But at the same "time, there 'remains the Obvious prob lem of what will be4 done. And of who will do it. ''Why, we have been wanting somebody to take it over for years," Mrs. Wheaton declared. "After ajj, it's too much for me even now: I am eleven years old: er than Tom' refering back to Wolfe's birth in 1900. '"''.''';. ' At may age, it's terribly hard for me to look after the house," she reflected. And it is not only the present problem thai disturbs her. f ' "" ''"We are interested in 'what is to be "done' in terms of fifty or a hundred years," explained Mrs. Wheaton who of all the fami ly has taken the most active care of the 1 property. "The whole point is," she went on "Is the house worth ' keeping?" Tt costs to keep that place go ing," she emphasized, stating that much of the upkeep has been borne 'by the family. "And it's time to do something!" "I moved away things like "Mama's f silver," but there are still a great many things of value to be looked after in the big ram bling house, which is nearly three quarters of a century old. In 1949, the Thomas Wolfe As sociation proposed to buy the building from the family. In fact they put up some of the money. But 'Mrs. Wheaton says that it was possible for the group to make only two payments. "And the last one," she added, "was over three years ago." Admittedly, there is some hope that the organization can still raise the money. It has a new head named Sam Bass. "And if anybody can xound up the dough for. this project, he can," a local . observer commented. But if nothing can be done in this direction, Mrs. Wheaton sees just three possibilities short of simply tearing the old structure down. If friends can riot finance the project, she though maybe the City of Ashe ville never totally fond of Wolfe might take over. "If they can't, perhaps the Un iversity or even Harvard might -want it." Both institutions of course have 1 special Wolfe col lections. (And it is said in some places at UNC that their collec tion might have been even bet ter had the University showed more interest at the right time.) So far there has been no com ment from either institution about such a proposal. But it is recognized that being given a "literary shrine" as far away as Asheville would certainly be al most overwhelmingly difficult to care tor?'""" y " :." 'Though no solution is at hand one thing' is certain. A decision fi tear down "Dixieland" would be sure to raise up cries and pro tests ' from , air parts. Several months ago, it was necessary to raze another "Wolfe house in Asheville a con demned structure which a half .ccntufy ago was "the : author's birthplace. A wire service car ried the story and a. huge clamor fell from "all sections. " - '':t"'VT(r ' ; " -k While a solution is sought, visitors still oome to the old house almost daily. They take pictures outside, or walk through the halls of the rambling fold building. On the walls are plaques with excerpts from "Look Homeward Angel" identi fying each scene. The bed on which the children were born is there. So is the brass bed on which his father died. There are tools from the latter's stone shop at Pack Square. And downstairs is Eliza G ant's old-fashioned kitchen. f 5 mi A n Cj-LOSVGs' -0 ill Hcgsdala ' 'Tarnation' Editor The seats in Memorial Hall have h for so long that many of the old time have become rather sentimentally them. Our attachment to them, hoV much more physical sort and one tha"' ressively worse the longer we sit on wards the middle, of a long program not withstanding, we find ourselves , cerned with where to put our ach; with the happenings on the stage. nl year's promise of many attractions in ium, the writer went up to South Y other morning between classes to se be done about getting sometning C, fortable in the old place. Everyone was very helpful. It seats in use up there now were take-1 auditorium, a towered monstrosity tha' present hall look like something de Llyod Wright, and screwed into the r floor with no regard for the fact that was flat. This accounts for those people posteriors or rayon pants who occasion:, their seats and slip under the bench them. It appears on first glance that a that would be needed is just a jackir." front . ends of the seats, but that still ugV do the trick; the benches are too close ; Mr. Barrett, down in the basement figured that it would cost about twenty-: per unit to replace the benches with 5;. those in Carroll Hall, which, since the; holds about nineteen hundred now, v around forty-five or fifty thousand c the Legislature of tins state is not e;.. for its generosity to certain aspects 0: University, the idea of new seats any gan to look pretty well shot. The first flicker Of real hope car: office of the Grand Old Man of th Chancellor House. A few years ago a class left almost two thousand dollars , for a fund that was to be added to by classes, until a sufficient amount was r new seats in. Another thing that came to light w; that Harvard has done not too long chaps up there sold subscriptions to pic old benches to their alumni, and then i up into ten-foot lengths, burned "HAR-. them, and sent them out to the irK, grads. The Chancellor really liked LV started talking about hauling them 0" ting the Old Well and the Belltower 1 Seal on them until his secretary, who;e it was originally, finally asked v Rameses' picture on them too. Mr. Charlie Shaffer, in a secluded u. third floor, takes care of the Annual Ah campaign, which has only been go: : but which has1 already done a conside:a'. for the University that the Legislature can't do. The leader of this program: able gentleman who had three very relf to say: (1) while the best thing pos.b'e to get some wealthy alumnus interested, f fork over the requisite cash, such a t; too likely for the same reason that only k class has contributed; that is, giving a seats, however much they are needed, j: have the appeal that a less useful but rr mental gift has. (2) Many classes have"! over in their treasuries that could be 4 this purpose the Class of '34, for exa-r hundred and seventy-six dollars left over v ing to spend it for (3) The Anna: Fund, since it receives money to be 1 discretion of its trustees, might well ? cash into the project within the near L ticularly if the students show an ir.tore-: triDutmg themselves through, lor ex year's senior class. 5 Whether we get new seats or not it. ' everything else around here, up to us I; them bad enough we can get them. enson G'ivqs Secretary Benson has now offiai' .a mistake in firing Wolf Ladejinsky a ? risk. His department's press release dc:t tinner n'oc 7tittor cum lf. Pnnsnn t5 HMO Til illVil, OtX Ui AV - hard." ' . Mr. Jienson says the records of sky's security status have been correcir. "I do not want further injury done to 5-' sky. This may be construed as an indue iuu mat injury nas oeen oone 10 mm- Department security review procedures, ommended to President Eisenhower char; -rtu'mmjsirauon s over-au secuniy v- may be construed as an admission that t ajsiv-m wiucfl permiuea u iJaaejni.-K pen was detective in the first place. an liiuiviuuai ine secreiarj ux an upngni, conscientious man. wny i "- liuiuci lie JlrtS iiuCi 'O UC pi V - J - for months on end before he would J make these minimum admissions? tural attache at the Tokyo embassy la.-t Weeks passed, Mr. Ladejinsky was rare i"UA, and, yet Mr. Benson- did not o::--- regret or modify his Department's ju Mr. Ladejinsky until a presister.t ne Clark R. Mollenhoff of The Des Xr--i obtained a back-handed admissioa of iuuia-uuoii Kepi inquiring at uie itiier wees, wneiner ine rty!" dorsed Mr. Benson's action. He fir.-' June 24, a White House letter which Q Benson as indicating that "the pre-- r: Ladejinsky) was probably written a h;t iii. lit-nsua nas now maae i:ie " but somehow these words do not rn ; quate to describe an official statement out proof, branded Mr. Ladejin-ky a ; irusiea oy nis Government. Secretary uu iuucii more 10 mase amends u-.-:i Why does he still resist r. full-expn-1'-r egret for the harm done? St. Lou'
Daily Tar Heel (Chapel Hill, N.C.)
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Oct. 2, 1955, edition 1
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