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4 » The Rea and Black « Weonesoay. May 16, 1990
OPINIONS
The Red & Black
Eitatiukri 1893—1I960
Aa juUpt’vU’U t:+dt\: vu t paper xot iffthaltd uith the L’nvemty of Grorgia
Charlene Smith/Editor-irvChief
Amy Bellew/Managing Editor
Hogai Nassery Opinions Editor
■ EDITORIALS
Keep them apart
“Is uniformity (of opinion) attainable? Millions of
innocent men, women and children, since the
introduction of Christianity, have been burnt, tortured,
fined, imprisoned; yet we have not advanced one inch
toward uniformity. What has been the effect of coercion!
To make one half the world fools, and the other half
hypocrites.
— Thomas Jefferson
Freedom of religion is central to the American
notion of liberty, and the inclusion of it in the
Declaration of Independence and the Constitution
signaled a revolutionary change in Western thought.
The founders of our country were not ambivalent about
their conviction that we should have no state religion.
They understood that Europeans settled on this
continent to escape religious persecution.
In the 1980s fundamentalist Christians, who were
instrumental in the election of Ronald Reagan, waged
an assault on religious freedom. Led by Jerry Falwell
and his “Moral Majority,” they didn’t understand that
there are taxpayers of other faiths who do not want
Christianity imposed upon them. The Moral Majority
folded last year following two years of unparalelled
scandal among the leadership of the religious Right.
Yesterday, Robertson announced the formation of a
new conservative Christian coalition to train and
support candidates for public office, which, unlike
Falwell’s organization, will not be tax-exempt and may
engage in unlimited lobbying. Using Robertson’s 1988
mailing list, the coalition raised $1.5 million for its first
year’s budget.
Ralph Reed, the coalition’s executive director, says
Christians must “take back this country, one precinct
at a time, one neighborhood at a time, one state at a
time.” Well, Christians never owned this country and
they never will. They are a valued part of a society
whose strength lies in the free exchange of ideas and
beliefs.Uniformity was a basic tenet of communism,
Mr. Reed, and communism is dead.
Playing the fool
As if it weren’t enough for the Bush Administration
to be kissing the Chinese government’s market
potential, Ted Turner decided to travel to Beijing and
act like an idiot. Afler his comments last week in
defense of Li Peng and the Tiananmen Square
massacre, perhaps he would like to be deprived of his
First Amendment rights and incarcerated for his
controversial comments. What’s good for the Chinese
students is good for the American multi-millionaire.
According to Amnesty International’s latest report,
the American public has only been exposed to the tip of
the Chinese human rights atrocity iceberg. Perhaps
Ted has never heard of the Universal Declaration of
Human Rights, a document that the People’s Republic
of China signed, along with every other member of the
United Nations.
Ted Turner said the Chinese government “felt
forced to” call in troops because the pro-democracy
demonstrators “were breaking the law” by exercising
freedom of speech and attempting some small measure
of self-determination. Who was breaking the law,
Teddy? Wherein does the legitimacy of a government
and its laws lie when it no longer represents the will of
its people?
It has become increasingly difficult to meet the eyes
of Chinese students on this campus. The few, grudging
retaliatory measures adopted by President Bush
border on impotence, and yet Ted resents even these. It
is the ultimate irony that a man who made his fortune
by exercising his freedom of speech, should be so quick
to deny others an equal right to what he enjoys so well.
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"It takes luck Because it's not as easy as it used to belike when
R.E.M. was first starting out and people were willing to take a
chance more often."
— Jared Ballsy, local music man, on creaking into tne business
Social significance of bumper stickers
Bumper stickers fascinate me. I love to be
able to look at the bumper of a car and automat
ically know something about the driver. Gun
nut, Lifer, Choicer, Acid User, Believer, Trekki,
whatever. Don’t forget political persuasion. I al
ways have something to say to the driver when
I see a sticker that arouses my curiosity.
For instance, “Love Your Mother" makes me
want to pull up beside the car, roll down the
window, and scream, “Do you recycle? Do you
use aerosol deodorant? Huh?” Followed by a
good hard stare to induce the absolute truthful
response. I sense the answer would be an em
barrassed blush. These are the same people
who put works of authors who are wanted by
radical Islamic governments on the coffee table
for everyone to see but never crack them.
I really love the anti-war ones. “Visualize
World Peace”, “Arms are for Hugging,” and the
ever-pragmatic, “Peace Through Music.” Well,
gee, pal, I’m on your trip and all, but don’t tell it
to me. Go tell it to a bunch of 16-year-old Arabs
on the Gaza strip, Mr. Mellow. It’s easy to “Vi
sualize World Peace" when no one is actually
opposing your right to exist with an American-
made M16. Bumper stickers let you know if the
driver in front of you is in earth orbit.
I saw one yesterday that had American flags
all over it. It read, ‘Thank You, Mr. Reagan”. I
don’t have the heart to make fun of that one. It
would be like hunting sheep with an uzi.
I guess I’m proclaiming the social signifi
cance of bumper stickers. It’s the most popular
form of public expression. Most people don’t
write or play music or make movies. So, when
they develop a strong opinion to express, they
stick it on their car. You get mad at some
Yankee for turning up his nose at grits, so you
James
Young
go down to the local truck stop and buy a “Lee
Surrendered, I Didn’t" sticker and everyone
will know of your convictions toward a politi
cally sovereign South. If you get mad because
political prisoners are being tortured in El Sal
vador, then slap an Amnesty International on
the bumper and bingo! You’re an activist! It’s
the stress-free way to make yourself feel like
you’re doing something. And I guess you are.
Just because putting a “Baby on Board" sign in
your window eases the guilt that plagues you
because you smoked while you were pregnant,
that’s no reason not to alert drunks and idiots
to be extra careful around your car.
I’m just as guilty as everyone else. The only
sticker that I have seen recently that I felt
strongly about was the one I saw last week that
said “Kill Your Television” It heightened the
overwhelming urge I have been feeling to watch
the image of Oprah Winfrey shatter into a mil
lion pieces of glass upon impact with an empty
auart bottle of Schlitz Malt Liquor. I haven’t
aone my part for this cause, which would be to
watch a douche commercial from the top of fifty
stories as it slowly fades downward to a delec
table collision with the sunroof of the presi
dent’s of NBC’s limo, because I don’t want to
miss The Simpsons this Sunday night.
So, where is that social significance? Well,
bumper stickers sum up our society. Just look
at us. We spend several billion dollars a year
defending and promoting a “democracy” that
only proves that when people have the chance
to participate in the political process, they
don’t. Bumper stickers are just another facet of
the glorious communications age, where so
much communication goes on that nothing ever
actually happens. The American Way to solve a
problem is to put a heart-warming special
about it on television. Remember Live Aid? The
big media event that made us all proud to be
rock and roll fans. The only thing that’s
changed in Ethiopia is an increase in popula
tion and a decrease in food supply.
I am sure that there must be a more effective
way for us to solve our problems besides put
ting soul-stirring bumper stickers on our cars.
If you’re looking for detailed instructions here,
you’re looking in the wrong place. I am not
going to list “10 things you can do to make the
world a better place.” Those things are obvious.
I can only tell you to stop acting like a stupid
sheep that has to be baby-sat by governments
that are only sheep in sheepdog clothing. I am
asking you to start living by the phrase that
your cheezy bumper sticker proclaims, or just
peel the thing off and toss it into an over
crowded landfill. If we are destined to bring
ourselves to extinction we might as well not lie
to ourselves about it.
James Young is a junior music major.
Local boy puts in a collect call to NEA
“Good afternoon, National Endowment for
the Arts. Johann Snobengruber speaking.”
“Yea, uhh, Snotengrouper, my name is Fla
vius, and I am an artist."
“Well, sir, what can the Federal Government
do for you today?”
“As I said, I am an artist and I understand
that when our government isn’t terrorizing
Panamanians, or cheating the homeless out of
their happiness, or supporting Apartheid in
South America, or raping Mother Earth with
coal and hairspray and cars and cow farts and
frozen burritos and nuclear fusion, it some
times gives money to deserving artists like me.”
“Correct, Mr. Flavius. What is your Social
Security number?”
“First of all, Mr. Snobenducer, the name is
Flavius. Flavius. That’s it. No inegalitarian,
sexist courtesy title. Just one simple name.
Like Elvis or Caesar or Liberace or Marilyn or
Ghandi or Bono or Jesus or that dude who
painted the ceiling on the Pope’s church in
Paris. Secondly, my limitless existence is nei
ther defined nor constrained by any nine-digit
number invented by Joseph McCartney to keep
track of communists."
“Please accept my sincere apology, Flavius.
Catering to the nonsensical eccentricities of
self-important artists is our business. Now, this
is merely a formality, of course, but please de
scribe your proposal.”
“All right. I am an artist. More specifically, I
am a performance artist. My current project,
understatedly entitled *Life Stinks,' is in its
twenty-third year.
“See, everyday I get up around noon and de
cide if it’s a shower day. Then, I take a good
long leak off the back porch onto a big Confed
erate flag. After donning some suitably in
triguing clothes liberated from the Salvation
Army, I feed sprouts and mashed potatoes to
my cat, Gus Hall.
“Next, I ride my trusty Namibian-made bike
downtown, sit on my favorite bench, smoke
clove cigarettes, talk to passersby, and wait for
the revolution. If it rains, I move the whole
thing inside and supplement my routine by con
suming cup after cup of herb tea.
“In the evening, I hang out at this chic little
dive, smoke clove cigarettes, and listen to a
band or a brilliant folk poet. Often, I recite or
make up my own stuff for the crowd. Some
times, I even bring Gus Hall and my Confed
erate flag.
“Still later, I go to a local club for late-night
disco. There, I not only get Borne serious exer
cise while tossing back eight or ten Rolling
Rocks, but I also participate in a less-than-
subtle protest against the musical, political and
imperial excesses of late-Seventies America. I
smoke more clove cigarettes until I see the sun
light begin to ooze above the pines. At that
point, I head for home."
“Now, Flavius, am I correct in understanding
that your entire daily routine is, itself, the ar
tistic creation you wish the Federal Govern
ment to underwrite?”
“You got it, Mr. Smokindoober. Art is my life,
and my life is art."
“I say, Flavius, that is profound. And in
triguing. I’m sure Uncle Sugar can send a bit of
the peace dividend your way. What do you re
quire?"
“Let me see. I gotta pay rent and buy gro
ceries for me and Gus Hall. I need basic art sup
plies: paper, pencils, crayons, clove cigarettes,
Rolling Rock beer, industrial strength condoms,
andpaint-both spray and finger.”
‘Tnat sounds eminently reasonable. Is there
anything more?”
“Well, I hesitate to mention this, but I find
that mind-altering substances markedly ex
pand the scope and impact of my art. I mean,
could Morrison or Hendrix have gotten where
they did without a little acid?"
“Mr. Flavius, I am sorry, but you will get no
money from an agency of the U.S. Government
while there is a drug war going on. Peg, trace
this call and get Czar Bennett on the horn.”
“Look here, Snothead, I am an artist! This is
censorship! I’ve got a Constitutional right to
federal funding! You Nazis won’t get away with
censoring me, dammit! I’m gonna be one of the
greats! Right up there with Mapplethorpe and
Warhol and Dali and Dylan and Vonnegut and
the geniuses who wrote ‘Stand’!”
“Good day, sir."
Click.
Luke Boggs is a senior history major.
Festival no relaxing matter
■ FORUM
□ The Red and Black welcomes letters to the editor and prints them in the Forum
column as space permits. All letters are subject to editing (or length, style and li
belous material. Letters should be typed, doublespaced and must include the name,
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reason upon request Letters can be sent by U.S. mail or brought in person to The Red
and 8lack s offices at 123 N. Jackon SL. Athens, Ga.
Cary DiCristina criticized the
Twelfth Annual Human Righta
Festival. Juat what did you expect,
Mr. DiCristina? A “relaxing experi
ence"? A weekend of non-stop fun?
The Human Righta Festival pre
sents a forum for concerned citi
zens to speak out against human
righta violations, and hopefully to
encourage those who are listening
to take action and eliminate
human suffering.
The Fest does provide opportuni
ties for fun-listening to live music,
bidding on your favorite artist’s
work, etc. But remember, the eigh
teen bands and acoustic per-
formers were donating their time
and energy because they seek to
change the world for the better-
they weren’t merely playing for
your entertainment.
The artists who donated their
creations did so because they knew
that the Art Auction would benefit
two worthy causes, the Athens
Rape Crisis Line and NO HARME.
And planning committee members
volunteered hundreds of hours of
their time to ensure that the Fest
would take place once again.
Descriptions of human righta vi-
oltions are intended to make you
feel uncomfortable; otherwise, why
change? The main idea if the Fest
is to challenge preconceptions and
heighten awareness. Change is
then up to you. I suggest that in
stead of complaining about this
year’s Fest, join next year’s plan
ning committee and get involved.
You can make a difTefence.
Laura L. Greene
Human Rlghte Feetlval Planning
Committee Member