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THE WEST GEORGIAN, WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 24,1982
Opinion
Debate
Debate
Often ignored, usually
misunderstood, never properly
honored
Everyone knows we have a good
football team, basketball team and
baseball team and all that
But, how many stop to think about
our debate team one of the top five
\!vEST GEORGIAN
Mark McCloud Ellen Wilson
Editor News Editor
Debbie Godbee Dennis Cooper
Manaqinq Editor Advertisinq Manaqer
Joe Cumminq, Jr.
Adviser
The West Georgian is published every Wednesday during the quarter
except for final exams week. Office hours are from 1 to 5 p.m. each week
day I'hone number: 834-1366.
Subscriptions are $0 per year Please send name and address along with
payment to: Subscription Dept., The West Georgian, Student Center, Car
rollton, Ga. .'sollß
Editorial policies and unsigned editorials reflect the consensus of the
Editorial Board of the West Georgian. The board will consist of the editor,
managing editor and five editors selected b\ them. The Board is also
responsible for amending policy when the need arises.
Beyond the Frinqe-
Bob Haynie
Hang-over
W/2 City
Tell that damn cat to stop stomping
its feet...
As I lay there that Friday morning,
I thought how lucky I was. We'd all
come to Athens for the awards ban
quet, and the night before I’d paired
with some of the other newsmen of the
collegiate scene And here 1 was, after
mixing brandy, bourbon, beer, and
certain healthful herbs, and not a
trace of a hangover. Boy, am 1
Then I tried to sit up
Suddenly the earth began to quiver,
like some olympian jello mold, im
possible colors began to spread
through the air; the room began to do
an imitation of a centrifuge, and my
head
Oh, gods, my HEAD
1 had contracted not just a
hangover, but the single largest
hangover of my life. That head (inno
cent word, head, but at that moment
...) had all the pain and agony of ten
thousand Chinese peasants riding
over it on elephants with spiked shoes.
The very tortures of Hell itself were
planned by such a headache as this.
This was no minor Exeedrin headache
- indeed, such as this could be cured
only by drastic surgery.
The Hangover. Such a conunon
thing, usually the grounds for much
humor and joking ... "Wow! Did I
ever have a hangover!" the moran
brags (Brags. How someone can
boast of having his brains revert into
prunal jelly ..) and all his friends gig
gle
As I laid then*, envy ing those for
tunate persons who were only
paralyzed or dead. I thought about ail
the hangover cures 1 had heard of.
I art's see. they say that eating raw
eggs, shells and a11... about a dozen
hnuti no, can't get eggs
Hair of the dog? Nah. 1 don't even
know where a dog is, and he'd pro
bably bark, and 1 couldn't stand that
Maybe that old aardvark trick
place your head in a vise and apply
pressure until you hear a pop, then
wrap in a steanung hot towel until
either the hangover is gone or your
head dissolves ...
Drink a gallon of water ... boil y our
head in same . take a cold shower ...
take a hot shower ... turn on the
shower and use it to pump water down
throat m hopes of washing out the
system .. eat three loaves of bread ...
eat a quart of ice cream eat a dozen
live minnows... no, none of that.
All that is superstition
What 1 needed was an aspinn
Letters, Please
Getters.
Throughout history the great men of
literature and fancy have been men of
letters Their correspondence is
preserved for the ages, and many
books and tomes have been written
about them.
Now. thanks to a secret process.
The West Georgian has developed a
system by which you too can join the
illustrious ranks of great scribes.
It’s called Lettercolumn. All you
in the nation?
Or, that we recently upset the
number one —that’s the top
banana - -team in the nation?
Dr Chester Gibson and his intrepid
team should be honored every bit as
much as the athletes that we tend to
pay so much attention to.
They are, after all, also champions.
I'll just get up ... ooogh. 1 won't
either ... man, 1 think my legs are
gone ... no they’re still there, it’s just
the bones are melted.. . 1 guess
BKKKKKKIIIIIIINNNNNNNNGG
GGGGGGGGGG.
A A AAKR RGGGHHIUII.I.I.! What
was that unspeakable and titanic
cacaphony??? Was the earth shatter
ing? Had they dropped the bomb?
Were ther“ a million elephants out
side trumpeting?
No. It's the phone ...
"Hello?”
“Hi there! We're all going to get
breakfast! The eggs here are sorta
green, and the sausage is kinda
greasy, but that's ok! Coming?"
"Guurkkgl."
Oh, 1 see. A bit of the old hangover,
eh? Hey, that’s cool ... I know how it
is Ha ha! See you later! ”
Click.
later At this point I knew I would
not have a later. I was DYING, dam
mit, and 1 wanted to do it in peace.
Drop ... tink. Drip ... tink. Drip
tink
Oh, gods .. how can a faucet drip so
loud? Sounds like ten ton bricks hit
ting a bog ...
Stagger up. Stumble to bathroom,
turn all drips off. Stagger back. lay
down.
“BKKKRHRKRIIINNNGGG."
"HELLO” oh god did 1 have to yell;
that is so painful
“Hi. Can 1 talk to Scotty ?"
"NoScotty here dammit."
"Ah, surrre. You can’t fool me,
Scotty-girl. How are you doing that
bass voice?"
"No dam Scotty here you idiot go
’way."
“Scotty? Are you mad at me?”
“Go ’way or ill.. . oh, hell," click.
In comes Jeff
"Hi Bob, found an Alka-Seltzer.
Make you feel better."'
And it did later, still hung over but
at least semi-human, along comes
Glorious Drmk-Buyer. "Hev. let’s go
get smashed!!! You coming. Bob'”’
The rest goes without saying And
on Saturday morning ..
need to do is write a letter on
something we said, or something we
didn’t say but you think we should
have, and send it to us. If it’s relevant,
or even irrelevant but interesting, we
print it. Then if it’s printed, you know
you are doing something right, and
can begin the great American novel
with a clear conscience.
So don’t delay. Write right now, to
The West Georgian, in the student
center basement.
The Difference Is Worth Knowing’—
By Mark McCloud, Editor
How many times have you
wondered, as you were pre-register
ing for classes, just what kind of da.
you were getting yourself into'’ There
is no way to tell what classes will be
like under the guidance of professor
so and so, in the college bulletin
In surveying the list of names and
classes in the bulletin, one is struck
with the realization that you can't tell
much from merely the names of the
professors So it’s all a big gamble
What's even worse, is when "staff" is
printed under the course offerings
Under the Math 101 offerings for next
quarter, “staff” is printed close to 15
times. Whoever "staff” is is surely
teaching a hell of a lot of classes.
The official college catalogue gives
a brief description of courses offered
here, but it doesn't tell the real nitty
gritty: the prof and how he teaches
Unless you know plenty of seniors,
you don’t have much to go on when
choosing your classes
One of the most ingenious methods
of guiding students I’ve seen ls the
"Course Critique", a publication from
H
u
You Asked For It -
By Debbie Godbee
I used to wonder why anyone would
want a Pekmgnese, with its smashed
face and bulging eyeballs like a
toad's. But, since my family has had
two Pekingneses I've come to realize
that, like any other pet, these dogs
have their own distinctive per
sonalities. and those same features 1
used to hate just make the dog cuter.
Gur first Pekmgnese, Chi Chi.
adopted my father about two years
ago; she had belonged to a neighbor
who had moved and given her to him.
That dog was my father’s pride and
joy; she went everywhere with him
and did everything he did, well,
almost everything. She didn't get to
go into restaurants with him, but he
always regained her graces with a
tasty tidbit or two from the doggy bag
In Style -
By Jeff Styles
Til.
It occurs to me that way too many
people complain, here at West
Georgia, of being stuck in what they
consider a small school. These people,
misinformed pessimists that they are
wail about the lack of parties, the
miniscule number of classes to choose
from, and a my raid other silly irrita
tions that they believe would be cured
if we could somehow coax another
10,000 students into the confines of the
W.G.C. campus. Woe be unto us if
such dire happenings were to actually
take place. Because if there is any
single thing worse than going to
school on a small campus in a
nowhere town, it has got to be going to
an enormous school in a godforsaken
city.
I have just recently returned from a
journey to such a place and the
The West Georgian welcomes
letters from its readers on topics of
general and campus interest, let
ters criticizing or praising
editorial stands or opinions are
also welcomed Letters must be
signed by the author, typed and
must include a valid mailing ad
dress or telephone number for
verification. In certain instances,
names will be withheld upon re
quest. Unsigned letters will not be
considered for publication. Letters
to the editor should not exceed 300
Academic Survival Kit
the wiser folks at Georgia Tech. It’s
written by the students for the
students and is intended as an infor
mal guide to classes. It serves as a
type of published "grapevine”.
The critique includes the student’s
evaluation of the professors as well as
his/her approach to the subject mat
ter, and then a breakdown of the
grade distribution.
Here’s an example: Professor So
and So, (organic chemistry ): "He is
usually thought of as a superlative
teacher, although some may consider
him haughty and arrogant. His lec
ture style is excellent and he follows
the text very' closely. He is also in
terested in answering your questions
in class, and is usually available in his
office. He tells his class that if they
have any kind of problems now or in
the future to come by and see him.
The overwhelming work load requires
a great deal of memorization and if
you don't keep up, you will be in bad
shape" Kind of neat huh?
By this time, I'm sure you are
aware that different students learn
better from different styles of
Miss Chi Chi
Soon after she was killed last sum
mer, we realized that jt was absolute
ly necessary tliat we get another pup
py to take her place. Unless you've
ever loved and lost a pet, you can't
possibly understand what we went
through during the five days between
the time Chi Chi died and the arrival of
our new two-month old puppy, Miss
Chi Chi.
Just any Pekmgnese would not
have done. My parents traveled to a
neighboring town in reference to an
ad, but came away empty handed
when they found proud papa had a
my sterious growth on one of his eyes
while mama had only one eye and
about half of her hair.
But. finally we found the puppy we
wanted in Cave Spring near Rome,
Ga and headed back home.
In Praise of Small
trauma is only beginning to subside.
The place of which I am speaking
shall remain nameless but the
students have been known to drop to
their knees at the most surprising
tunes and imitate a large, rather
vicious canine who, for some reason,
has a personal vendetta against
yellow jackets. (Why only yellow
jackets. and not w asps or bumblebees
I don’t know i .Although the campus is
actually very beautiful, complete with
dogwoods, coeds and intimate beer
halls, don’t be taken in by its seeming
innocence. This is a place where oily
the strong can survive...a vicious rat
race where many a funny nosed
freshmam straight from his mother’s
arms, has been trampled under the
nightmarish pace of big college life.
Indeed, many were trampled under
big college feet.)
Letter Policy
words and are subject to editing
for style, clarity, libel and length.
The West Georgian also
welcomes guest editorials. They
should not exceed 300 words and
must be submitted two weeks
before desired publication date. All
guest opinions are subject to ap
proval by the editorial board.
letters and guest editorials
should be addressed as follows:
Editor, The West Georgian, Stu
dent Center. West Georgia College,
Carrollton. Ga. 30118.
teaching. Having such a book could
help a student find a professor whose
teaching style suits him/her best
Now, the largest opposition to put
ting in such an evaluation here would
obviously come from the faculty
because they might see the existence
of such a critique as a “rap-sheet"
against them and a threat to their self
image.
However, it is not the purpose of
such a critique to be a vehicle for
students to get even with the prof. In
the case of Tech’s book, the over
whelming majority of the faculty is
described affirmatively and many
must feel quite complimented Some
of the professors are presented by
students in such glowing terms that
while reading the prof description one
gets the feeling. “I can’t wait to take
the class."
Another criticism might be that on
ly the "easiest” professors receive
good reviews and the purpose of such
a book would be helping students find
the easiest class possible But, as the
editor of the "Course Critique’’ is
quick to point out, the most important
Now, if you’ve ever had anew pup
py, you’re familiar with some of the
problems that result. It wasn’t long
before we realized that we were going
to have to start from scratch with
Miss Chi Chi. In fact, we didn’t even
make it home before she had christen
ed my mother as well as picked up her
sweater with her sharp little daws.
We tried to get the puppy outside
every couple of hours, but we never
managed to coordinate our schedule
with hers, and 15 minutes after com
ing back inside, we'd find a little pud
dle in the living room and a trail of
tracks leading to the furry
perpetrator.
We tried to be patient with her but
things only grew worse when she got
old enough to climb up on things and
would leave deposits of various forms
on mama's new sofa or scatter rugs or
My first indication of the true situa
tion I was finding were the sun
bleached bones of luckless students
who were caught by a sudden storm or
cold front before they made it to the
shelter of one of the buildings. You
see, at a campus of this size, you
sometimes have to make a overnight
trip through grueling conditions to get
between the Humanities and the
Science sections of the sprawling
school grounds.
Trying desperately to keep out of
sight of the roaming packs of wild
dogs that occupy the tundra around
the student center, I took out my spy
glass and quickly scanned the sur
rounding area, looking for one of the
rare bus stops that are strategically
placed around the campus. Seeing one
on the distant horizon, I shouldered
my pack and strode off in that direc
tion. Upon arriving I found myself
engulfed by a swarming mass of peo
ple, many looking hungry and rather
upset at the prospect of being late for
class for the tenth time in a row. As
the bus came lumbering into view a
few scuffles broke out between an
over-eager gang of preppies armed
with pistols and sticks and a rather
motley-looking crew of new-age hip
pies swinging bicycle chains and
broken bottles. It seems that space on
these buses is very scarce and one
must be willing to sacrifice life and
limb in order to get to class anywhere
near on time.
After my ordeal at the bus stop, I
trait in the student’s eyes was not
whether the professor was easy or
not, but rather, whether he/she show
ed a genuine interest m teaching. That
means a lot to most students
Goals of the book are to provide in
formation that can help enhance a stu
dent’s educational experience and at
the same time, provide feedback to
professors on the effectiveness of
their efforts.
When you examine the "course
critique’’ to our present system of
evaluating professors, you realize
how much more valuable a book like
Tech’s would be.
At the present time we evaluate our
professors at the end of each quarter
knowing very well, that the only peo
ple that will see them are the prof and
the department chairman. Therefore
most students don’t put much time in
to filling the forms out. Further, lode
how the damn things are worded
Geeesh.
Sure, putting the book together
would take some time and cost a few
bucks But I think it would be worth it.
Do I hear a second?
my Dfcd. My lather would always try
to qualify her actions by reminding
me that I didn’t come potty-trained
either and he had to tolerate that too.
Even through all this, however, we
grew to love and enjoy this fat little
parcel. We laughed as she would try to
pull her fat little self onto the sofa, and
we laughed at her delight with any
new or makeshift toy whether it was a
rubber ball or a toilet paper roll. And,
we loved it when she and one of the
cats physically bickered over who
was going to sleep in the little wicker
bed my father bought the puppy for
Christmas
A compromise resulted; Chi Chi
slept in it during the day and the cat
got it at night. "That sounds like one
of those soap operas," my uncle quip
ped when he heard about the com
promise
made my way to the massive food ser
vices center hoping to grab a bite to
eat. After wandering aimlssly
through the noisy crowd I finally
found the soup line and silently took
my place at the rear or the ravenous
mob. Sweet memories of the warm,
friendly atmosphere at Z—6 com
forted me as I pummeled some crazed
jock about the head and shoulders
with the very same cinnamon roll that
he had attempted to steal from my
plate. "Aaahhh,” I thought to myself,
“To be back at good old WGC. Walk
ing leisurely to class while chatting
with a good friend. Leaning back on a
grassy knoll after class and watching
the women stroll by. Not a worry in
the world except maybe an overdue
book or two.” But I was immediately
brought back to reality by a group of
drooling upper-classmen who had run
screaming to the door. "Free beer.
Free beer. Over at the Zeta Omega
Omega House.”
Barely escaping death from the
mad rush to the Z. 0.0. house, I made
my way back to the small shack that
several students were kind enough to
be sharing with me during my stay at
their school. As I passed by an open
window I heard a news announcer
saying something about massive
fatalities at the Zeta party as the
fourth beer riot of the week was final
ly brought under control by the local
police force.
Believe me. It’s good to be back at
West Georgia. It may be small but it’s
safe.