1000 items found for your search. If no results were found please broaden your search.
(12/06/95 10:00am)
To the Editor: It is neither my desire nor my style to be a "distant" president. To the contrary, I yearn for more time to attend student gatherings, to stroll through our campus, to have lunch with students in our dining halls or local restaurants. I am grateful every time I have a chance to do one of these things. The unfortunate reality is that the demands on my time continually seem to grow; they rarely seem to shrink. This fall, in particular, I have had a very heavy development schedule that has required me to travel all too frequently away from Philadelphia. The results of my travel have been very positive and important for the University, but the fact remains that I have been away much more than I would like. And I have had to cram even more into the days when I have been on campus. To some degree, this is a cyclical issue. I was on campus interacting with students more last fall than this fall; conversely, I will be on campus more this spring than I was last spring. In the end, I am eager to carve out more time to be with students. You are right to make a point of my need to do this. But please don't believe I have "forgotten my constituents," to use your words. Penn's wonderful students are very much on my mind and in my heart, and I will do my best to show that clearly in the days and months ahead. Judith Rodin University President A Thanksgiving Thank You To the Editor: I wish to publicly thank the many people who were instrumental in making the Interfaith Celebration of Thanksgiving on Tuesday, November 21 such a success. The idea for this service came from Valarie Swain-Cade McCoullum, vice provost for university life, and I want to thank her and Assistant Vice Provost Barbara Cassel for their support. The members of the Interfaith Council who assisted in the planning were the Rev. Mark Hunt and Robert Cardie from the Newman Center; Rabbi Howard Alpert, Jeremy Brochin and Rabbi Marsha Pik-Nathan from Hillel and the Rev. Beverly Dale from the Christian Association. Thanks also to the seven members of the Penn Glee Club and their Director, Bruce Montgomery, who provided some wonderful musical selections on very short notice. The highlight of the service was the sharing by seven members of the University community of what Thanksgiving means to them in the context of their own religious and national backgrounds. We had about 45 people and it was a marvelous representations of the vitality and diversity which makes this University special. Congratulations and thanks to all those who planned, supported, participated in, and attended this event. Fred Guyott Interim Chaplain A New Fan of 'Locust Walk' To the Editor: I just wanted to take this opportunity to congratulate all the students involved with UTV13's Locust Walk. I had never had the pleasure of watching the show before, but Tuesday night's episode was the funniest TV show I have seen in a long time. In particular, the savage beating of a character with an Everclear bottle had me rolling. Especially funny was when the assailant lit the victim on fire and threw her over the bridge into the river. UTV13 and the Locust Walk cast have made a fan out of me. To them, keep up the good work! Grant Bronk College '98 Workers 'Laid-off' Not 'Fired' To the Editor: Last Tuesday's Daily Pennsylvanian, for the second time in a few weeks, refers to laid-off University employees as "fired." ("U. to find new jobs for fired employees," DP 11/28/95) This is inaccurate, as the words "fired" and "laid-off" have entirely different implications. While the end result is the same, "fired" implies some level of incompetence. The employees mentioned were laid-off, not due to incompetence, but instead as a result of the University's cost-saving initiative we know as "restructuring." It's difficult enough for Penn employees to face the worries involved in potentially being laid-off; it is adding insult to injury to imply that they were "fired." Gene Haldeman Undergraduate Admissions data control technician More Response From the IAA To the Editor: As a freshman, I watched with bemusement as some of the student powers-that-be embarrassed themselves through the initial auditing process of the IAA. The UA, obviously seeking to increase its sphere of influence in student government, was eventually proven by the SAC to be in the wrong. In the wake of these events, I joined the IAA, and in my time in the club I have found that the SAC's judgement was indeed correct. The dedicated people on the executive board of the IAA have shown themselves to be honest and hard-working. With that in mind, I found the article in Wednesday's DP ("IAA may have misused $3,492 in funds," DP 11/29/95) very disconcerting. The writers, without giving any credentials as to why they would be a better authority than the SAC, discount that body's findings and pass judgement on a number of individuals within the club. I would like to say that I observed all of these individuals at the recently completed University of Pennsylvania Model U.N. Conference. They proved to be an incredibly dedicated and well-prepared group, as the conference ran perfectly, right down to the level of the name tags and placards given to the delegates. These items were prepared over many hours this past summer by Secretary-General Tony Huang and his family. This is a fact overlooked by the DP in its criticism of Tony for calling home. The Huang family volunteered much of its time to the IAA and the University of Pennsylvania. For them to be rewarded with slander of their son is unacceptable. The IAA board members have done more to promote the image of Penn as a strong academic institution than the vast majority of the student body, including the UA and DP. To ignore the ruling of the expert SAC body and again drag the club through the mud without finding out the whole story is, to me, the worst kind of ignorance. Chad Pimentel College '99
(11/30/95 10:00am)
and Paula Odysseos Even during a 10-second pause for a sip of water, Henry Louis Gates Jr. commanded the complete attention of the of the crowd of approximately 250 people in the Annenberg Center's Zellerbach Theatre last night. Gates, who is the chairman of the Afro-American Studies Department at Harvard University as well as a renowned author and editor, illustrated issues of multiculturalism and ethnicity within education with tales of his personal life. As a child growing up in segregated Piedmont, W.Va., Gates sold bottles for money to buy books written by black authors, supplementing the limited selection offered by his school library. And Gates said children today deserve better opportunities for a more complete education. He said that by teaching multiculturalism in schools, morality and tolerance can be instilled in future generations. "If we tell a multicolored strand of the history of America, it would make for a better society than the one I grew up in in the 1950s," Gates said. "You here [at Penn] are the future leaders of America. It is up to you to decide what kind of society you want to live in and your kids to grow up in. "Do you want your society to [consist of] a few haves and a lot of have have-nots?" he asked. "Most Americans have written off poor people and that is morally wrong." The reactions of those present for Gates' speech were varied. College and Wharton junior Michael Leeyow said he was disappointed because he felt that Gates did not offer solutions to the problems he discussed. "I thought he could have given more solutions to the problems that the lack of ethnic studies causes," Leeyow said. College sophomore Jim Joseph said he was impressed with the speech. "[It] was powerful and informative. Gates came out with the message that gradual change is important," Joseph said. "There will always be a large percentage of the population that will not change, but it only takes a handful to make a difference." The speech, which marked the third day in Unity Week, was sponsored by the United Minorities Council in conjunction with Connaissance and the University's Afro-American Studies Department. UMC chair Onyx Finney, a College senior, said the Gates speech was extremely relevant to the theme of Unity Week -- addressing and exploring political and social issues that affect students of color. "The UMC is fully supporting ethnic studies," Finney said. "Gates touched on the [principles] of what the UMC is founded on and gave a new perspective on ethnic issues." Gates said he was honored to be invited to participate in the UMC's Unity Week. "The idea of inter-ethnic understanding is a noble idea and any part I could play in that is great," Gates said.
(11/17/95 10:00am)
Spectators will be reminded with public address announcements to "enjoy the game and act responsibly at its conclusion." They will also be asked to refrain from running onto the field in the event of a four-way tie for the Ivy title. Rush said anyone attempting to to take down the goalposts will be subject to University sanctions and/or arrest. Violators will be identified through various means, including videotape. In addition, Rush said, University Police will be stationed at the entrances to Franklin Field along with Spectaguards in order to stop individuals from bringing in bottles and cans. -- Josh Fineman South Asia Society to celebrate Diwali On Saturday, the South Asia Society will be celebrating Diwali, the Indian "Festival of Lights," with Diwali '95 -- Illumination. At 5 p.m. in the Houston Hall Bowl Room there will be a pooja, which is a religious ceremony. At 5:30 p.m. in Bodek Lounge, there will be a catered Indian dinner. Following dinner, the South Asia Society will present a performance of "colorful costumes, traditional and modern dances and songs from throughout South Asia," according to College senior Anupama Shrivastava. There are several possible meanings of this primarily Hindu festival, but it is similar to New Year's Eve. Tickets are available on Locust Walk. The dinner is $11 and the show is $6. One dollar from each ticket will go to Sakhi, an organization aiming to stop violence against South Asian women living in the United States. -- Amy Lipman
(11/16/95 10:00am)
The sights and sounds of the final 10 seconds tell the story of the titanic Penn-Cornell clash in 1986. Both teams had 6-0 Ivy League records going in. The Quakers were gunning for a fifth straight Ivy title and a perfect 10-0 record. ITHACA, N.Y. -- Ten. That's what the scoreboard clock read. Ten seconds left in the game. Ten seconds left in the season. Ten seconds left until the dream that had been built day by day throughout the 1986 football season was to become a reality for the Pennsylvania Quakers. The scoreboard also showed a score that was all too familiar to the Quakers and their fans. The one that had the Quakers ahead of the other team. It read simply "Cornell 21, Visitors 31." Nine. On the Crescent Side of Schoellkopf Field, all you could see from the end zone to the 35-yard line were students. Penn students. Jubilant Penn students, who have tasted nothing in recent years but the thrill of victory, were ready to claim their fifth straight Ivy League championship by performing what has become a tradition at Penn -- tearing down the goal posts. Eight. The Cornell fans sat in silence. In eight seconds, they would have to face the reality of what could have been. What should have been had it not been for the impenetrable Quakers defense and the unstoppable Penn offense. They had their dreams. They had their fantasies. But so did Penn. And what Cornell didn't realize was that once the Quakers tasted their chance at a perfect season, nobody was to deny them their just desserts. Seven. The Cornell fans were violent and frustrated. Unable to beat Penn on the field, they decided to try to regain any pride they might have left. Snowballs abounded. Tempers flared. A force of Big Red students gathered to defend their goal posts from the evil Quakers fans. But it was to no avail. The game was just about over. The season was over. For Cornell, the dream was over. Six. But for the Quakers, the dream was anything but over. And old man wearing nothing but Red and Blue greeted his friend, who was dressed in Big Red garb, by pouring a bottle of champagne over his head. "Welcome to Pennsylvania," he said. Five. Penn's fans began to count down. A countdown to what they had been waiting for all season. Perfection. And then, only moments away, the Quakers and their fans could do nothing but wait. "I'm watching the clock," one fan said. "I want to make sure it doesn't stop." Four. It was time to start celebrating. All the questions had been answered. All the critics had been silenced. It was time to face the joyous reality of being 10-0. "We had no doubt of losing," Penn linebacker Brad Hippenstiel said of Saturday's game. "But even near the end, we couldn't celebrate because we knew there was the chance that we'd have to go back on the field. "I wasn't convinced and excited until there were about three or four seconds left." Three. Penn linebacker A.J. Sebastianelli had three seconds before he could officially claim the Ivy League championship. But it would be hours before he would realize it. "It's gonna take some time for all this to sink in," he said. "We've been building to 10-0 all year, but Coach Zubrow had told us to take things one day at a time." Those days were over. It had been only a matter of time until Penn claimed its fifth Ivy League championship, and time had just about run out. Sebastianelli summed it up well: "This team was destined to go 10-0." Two. Quakers running back Chris Flynn was experiencing what he calls "the best feeling he's ever had." And with good reason. Sure the Quakers had won championships before. Sure they had gone undefeated in the Ivy League before. But there they were, seconds away from the only improvement that they could have made on their past performances -- a perfect season. One. Penn quarterback Jim Crocicchia took the final snap of his collegiate career and fell on the ball. He got up, raised his arms in the air, and let out a jubilant yell. Then he stopped a moment to soak in the atmosphere and to cherish what had happened. He looked around at the sidelines, the scoreboard and the fans. "I'm never taking this off," he said of his number-seven jersey. "This has been a dream season." Zero. The final gun sounded. It was over. The season of destiny was over. For Ed Zubrow -- a man who took on the responsibility of keeping alive an incredible tradition, a man who performed the impossible task of taking a great team and making it better, a man who had taken his season day by day and never looked ahead to being undefeated -- it was time to reflect on some achievements. "To tell you the truth," Zubrow said, "I didn't think about winning the championship until the final whistle blew. But now, the emotion is so deep it hasn't even hit me yet. It is just great to be everything we had wanted to be. "It's going to be a fun trip home." A fun trip indeed, for the Quakers have no regrets about the 1986 season. No matter how you look at it you'll see that the Quakers had a perfect season. They did just about everything possible. Except lose.
(11/03/95 10:00am)
Zeta Phi Beta President Sheree Thompson was in the midst of celebrating her sorority's newest pledges Wednesday night when she heard loud noises and saw something falling from a High Rise North window. Although the College senior could not identify what had fallen, she realized that students were throwing items such as bottles and water balloons at the sorority sisters. And in a related incident, two residents of the 13th floor of HRN said a group of black men barged into their rooms, looking for signs that the residents were responsible for the thrown bottles. University Police Capt. John Richardson said he could only confirm that one bottle was thrown, and could not connect it to the sorority event. But Thompson said there was no doubt in her mind that the items were thrown at those celebrating. "They were throwing it directly at us," Thompson said. "We didn't want anyone to get hurt by anything coming out of the windows so it ended our celebration." University Police was aware that the event, slated to last about half an hour, was scheduled to take place in Superblock, according to Richardson. Sorority sisters and others who participated in the celebration denounced the high rise residents' actions, saying that the incident marked another example of campus racial problems. "I felt like I was in the 1960s trying to sit at a lunch counter," College sophomore Shelise Williams said. "A lot of people say black people are segregating themselves by living in DuBois, but we can hold cultural events at DuBois and not worry about anybody throwing anything at us." And Engineering junior Jerome Hairston, who attended the celebration, said the University community is "showing itself to be intolerant once again." College sophomore Alex Birnbaum, who lives on the 13th floor of HRN, said she heard a pounding on her door at around 11 p.m. Tuesday. When she opened the door, she found a group of black men standing outside her room. "This guy came into my room and went to the double and was looking around in the back," she said. "I stepped into the hall and saw 10 people at least -- they said there were people throwing glass and they were just checking it out to see what happened." Birnbaum's neighbor, who wished to remain anonymous, was also approached by the group of men. She said she had just come home and saw the group of students coming into HRN. According to the HRN resident, they approached the front desk and were allowed through without signing into the building. But Richardson said the men must have been University students since they could not have entered to the building without a PennCard. Birnbaum said after finishing the search of her room, one student knocked on and then opened Birnbaum's neighbor's unlocked door and searched her double room as well. "The guy sticks his head in, looking around, suspecting that one of us threw something out the window," the HRN resident said. Wharton junior Arthur James, who attended the celebration, said the reaction to the event was typical. "Stuff like this happens all the time whenever there's a small celebration and it happens to be a black organization," James said. "I was surprised that someone threw a bottle but I wasn't surprised people reacted." Daily Pennsylvanian reporter Julayne Austin contributed to this article.
(11/03/95 10:00am)
In the last two years, the Franklin Field goal posts have been torn down and thrown into the Schuylkill River three times after big Quaker football victories. And last November, five students and two University Police officers were seriously injured after the 33-0 Quaker victory over Harvard, which clinched sole possession of the Ivy League title to Penn. The injuries ranged from broken bones to concussions, University Police Chief George Clisby said. So in light of tomorrow's Homecoming game against Penn's arch-rival, Princeton, University Police is hoping to put a stop to this increasingly dangerous trend. Clisby said there will be a few more police officers on hand at the game this year. He also said students who attempt to take down the goal posts after the game could be arrested. "As a last resort, police will make every effort to identify through athletic film and other methods any violators of University policies and regulations as well as criminal laws," he said. "We will arrest people on the spot -- we will not permit spectators to take down the goal posts because of the risk of serious injury and the absorbing cost of vandalism," Clisby added. Athletic Director Steve Bilsky said the measures being taken are not aimed at curtailing school spirit. "Nobody's trying to quell the enthusiasm or the celebration," he said. Clisby agreed with Bilsky, saying that the police take "great pride" in the football team and hope to have as non-intrusive a presence as possible. The Public Safety, Risk Management and Athletic departments met last year to determine if there was any way of making the goal post removal safer in order to eliminate the possibility of injury, Bilsky said. But removing or replacing the goal posts after the game was not an option. "The problem is that they are cemented into the field itself," he said. "It takes a good 20 minutes back and forth to dislodge it." Bilsky added that money was not really an issue in the decision. "If it would have cost money we would have done it," he said. Bilsky also said that Public Safety Managing Director Thomas Seamon has recently met with several individuals in the Athletic Department to address safety at the football games. "I think his concern is injuries," he said. "I don't think he's trying to make any statement beyond that. There's no safe way to one, tear down the goal posts and two, bring them out of the stadium." University Police will also stand alongside Spectaguards at the entrance gates to Franklin Field in order to stop individuals from bringing in bottles and cans. In addition, several public service announcements will be read over the public address system telling students to "celebrate responsibly" and "refrain from entering the field." Clisby said he highly discourages students from taking down the goalposts. "The traditional way of taking down goal posts is not considered by the University community to be the appropriate way of celebrating," he added. Violators will be referred to the "appropriate University entity" to face the consequences of their actions, Clisby said. Associate Athletic Director Dennis Elton Cochran-Fikes said last year that he estimated the cost of a replacement goal post to be between $10,000 and $20,000.
(10/27/95 9:00am)
From Rob Faunce's "Quoi d'ever," Fall '95 From Rob Faunce's "Quoi d'ever," Fall '95It's three in the morning, and I am covertly smoking Camels in my mother's linen closet, hoping she will mistake my unmistakable cancer stick-of-choice for her own. Family is the root of all nervous dysfunction in this world. Coming home is like entering a maudlin Twilight Zone. Its the Big 80's on Prozac. I only come home in small doses. Two days for break, three days for Christmas. It keeps the senses keen on the things you take for granted when you are engulfed in the family milieu. Old newspapers strewn by the fireplace, Candlepin bowling trophies on the mantle, as-yet, undrunk bottles of Ernest and Julio Gallos White Zinfandel in the refrigerator. They smack my senses like a stiff brandy on a cold New Hampshire day. I have avoided home for a while now. Too much unresolved angst here. No, no: Its not the gay thing. That was all of a trauma for maybe a day. Openly dysfunctional families tend to accept one anothers' idiosyncratic characteristics as par for the course. Being gay simply gave my mother an excuse to ask me how to color-coordinate. I don't feel safe here anymore. This may have been my solace at some youthful moment, but now it is simply a faded, blurring sepiatone of what was once my life in a dying state, in a dead family. Grace just came and licked my forehead. Grace is my little puppy; realistically she is now a grown, mature lady of the house, but she is always a playful lass to me. The Gracester is very confused to see me, because I think she expects to see Sam with me. The last time she saw me was when I left my former home last July, with a peck on her puppy nose, and took Sam away with me. Sam is my baby. Was. Is. Always will be. Sammy was a free spirited mutt, and proud of it. Part retriever, part wolf, she was independent and feisty and my best friend throughout teenage wasteland. I can't look Gracie in the eye and tell her where Sam is, because the truth is, I killed her. The last time I showed my face in our home, Sam went from being in fine spirits to death's door. The vet told me that morning that the tumor would have started to affect her any day. He lied. Sam was waiting for me to come back and whisper French phrases of indeterminate pronunciation in her ear. I came to her, and she let me take her to her death. I signed her execution papers on July 10. I paid the extra 20 dollars for the superfluous pomp-and-cremation ceremony, and an extra special urn that has a white label on the front that says Samantha. Quote unquote Samantha. She was not just some window-decorative dog. Sam was not just a quote/unquote to be billed. Trent Reznor recently started a mellow period in recording that was a direct result of the death of his dog. Sam's position in my life only becomes clearer as I see my life without her causing me great periods of angst. I am withdrawn from my loved ones for fear that they will leave me too. I can't look my little Gracie in the eyes without thinking that I killed her big sister and protector. I can't come home without finding wisps of her hair on my winter clothes, without calling out to my baby at the landing of the front staircase before catching myself and realizing that she has left me. With Sam gone, a chapter of my life is dead with her and it makes home so unbearable. For so long Sam was the only one who listened to what I needed to say. When I needed to practice coming out to my mother, I chatted with Sam (who probably thought I was calling her to dinner while I prattled to her). When I didn't know how to cope with graduating from high school, I petted her all night and watched Molly Ringwald movies. Sam was with me through my formative years, and with her death comes the end of all that was in that world. I don't ascribe some great intelligence to Sam, or any other dog, that duplicates humanity. Rather, I ascribe to her extreme devotion, a devotion to me that I feel that I failed to live up to when I let her die without fighting, without exhausting my means to fight her disease, without holding her snow white paws while she left my world and went on to some mythically ridiculous doghouse in the sky. She was more than an animal to me. She was a soul mate, a true friend, a sister and the keeper of my childhood. I still grieve for her, and miss her tremendously. Without her here I am a foreigner in my own home, and my tour guides don't seem to speak my language anymore. So I will be leaving home again. Another two-day jaunt resulting in three months of therapy. I wonder if Grace will expect Sam to be with me next time I come around. I take comfort in knowing that Gracie sees us as one in the same, and that in her doggy-dog world, Sam and I are still together.
(10/20/95 9:00am)
Highlighted by a personal ambiance and a variety of artistic styles, the Penn Student Art Gallery's first-ever sculpture exhibit offers pieces from seven student artists. Entitled "Share Your Space," the display opened yesterday in Houston Hall's Bowl Room and will be available for viewing through the beginning of November. Nearly 100 people enjoyed the 10 pieces at the event, which was funded by the Social Planning and Events Committee. "I'm happy with the turnout," said SPEC President and College senior Nelson Telemaco. "It's good to see the Penn community appreciating art." This was the first sculpture show for the Penn Student Art Gallery. In the past, the organization, which is run by students, has produced photography, self-portrait and abstract art exhibits. The art pieces, produced by students in the School of Fine Arts, the College of Arts and Sciences and the School of Engineering and Applied Science, are being presented on blue drapes throughout the room and on the walls. "I am very pleased with the work and I am very excited to have my first clay sculpture piece being displayed," said College sophomore Laura Scariano, who created a piece entitled "Modern Replication of 12th Century Water Bottle." The sculptures were created in various mediums, including clay, copper tube, wood, papier m%chZ, feathers, plaster and Velcro. SPEC Secretary and College sophomore Vivek Hirani said he hopes to sponsor similar events in the future. "I'm glad all these people came, but I hope they keep coming throughout the year," he said. Toward the end of the year, the Penn Student Art Gallery is planning a show consisting of student-produced film clips. "I think the amount of talent at Penn is really surprising," College junior Sue Lee said. "It is really under-exposed." College senior Denise Bouvet, co- director of the student gallery, agreed. "Our goal this year is to increase our recognition on campus," she said. "The overall message of this exhibition is that the arts at Penn are under-appreciated and remain untapped as a source of extreme talent and creativity." College senior Rori DuBoff, a sculptor and member of the Artist Guild, said the pieces in the exhibit show "vulnerability, talent, energy, desire for expression and [a] need to be recognized." "It's a damn shame when the public is not aware of the creativities and activities that are occurring on campus," she said.
(10/13/95 9:00am)
The lights were low and the place was packed. As the music flooded the room, some people talked to their friends, while others tapped a foot or nodded their heads. They thought they were just going out for a night on the Penn social scene. But what the patrons of Smokey Joe's didn't know Tuesday night was that they had entered "Kweder's Kitchen." The "South Street Bard," as Kenn Kweder has been affectionately dubbed by the Philadelphia media, made his comeback performance after an arm injury that kept him from performing for more than three months. Kweder, a native of West Philadelphia, has been composing music since 1971. He has written about 200 songs and has had four records released on a small label called Pandemonium. He has recently received acclaim in Rolling Stone magazine and has received awards such as the Delaware Valley Music Poll's Lifetime Achievement Award in 1992 and the Philadelphia Music Foundation's Best Album of the Year Award for his 1989 release "Man Overboard." But even though local fame has found him, the guitar player, singer and songwriter has not wavered from his initial goal of making good music, which he calls "drinking in the kitchen music." Kweder says the genre is best described as "when you're with your friends and almost drunk and someone's playing a good song and you're in the kitchen and you don't feel any social pressures." "If you're in Kweder's Kitchen, then you're OK, baby," he said. As a child of the 1960s, Kweder said he has had quite an exciting life. A shy teenager, he studied English and communication at Temple University in order to break out of his shell. "I had a hard time communicating with people, especially with girls," he said. "And it helped me write songs." At 19 he began performing shows around Philadelphia, in New York and even internationally -- he has performed in England, Holland and Scandinavia, where he performed 67 shows in 75 days last year. Kweder said he does not earn enough money from his music to pay his bills, so he has to perform odd jobs to make up the difference. "I just love music so much that I'll park cars and bartend in order to play," he said. "It's worth the sacrifice of being behind the bar." Kweder's music has been compared to that of Roger McGuinn and Lou Reed, and audience members tend to agree. College senior Blas Nunez-Neto called Kweder "folksy." That folksy quality has made Kweder a perennial favorite at Smoke's. "The students love him, and it's original music," Smoke's owner Paul Ryan said. "He's a rock star -- he draws." Considering Kweder's popularity in bars and taverns, it is not surprising that alcohol plays a major part in his performances. "For some reason I like it when I'm drinking a lot," he said. "Because the more embarrassing I can get, the more fun I can have." He did not have a drink until he was 20 years old, but Kweder said that alcohol -- which he calls a "bad habit" -- also plays a role in his everyday life. "I'm into working hard and playing hard," he said. "I'm into enjoying life. If that involves a couple bottles of wine, you go back to work the next day." Kweder, who is 43 years old, has never been married, but says he may wed someday. "I was afraid I'd have to compromise and forfeit my love of music and I'd be unhappy," he said. "I'd want to be happy so I'd make [her] happy." Kweder recently released his latest album, entitled, "Kenn Kweder." He said it was his most trying yet. "It's really hard to get fertile again," he said. "I've written a couple of hundred songs and sometimes I don't know if I can write another. But I do." Kweder said he stays with the music business because big-time success may be right around the corner. "Just when I'm ready to quit I'll win an award or something," he said. "You've got to stay in the ballgame to hit the home run. I'm just waiting for the right pitch."
(10/11/95 9:00am)
Hundreds of blue and orange balloons were stretched in an arch from the Blauhaus Gallery at 33rd and Chestnut streets to the Morgan Building Monday morning, spelling out "art" in Morse code. Inside Blauhaus, ink dripped from a frozen ink jet down a 23-foot piece of brown paper. And three brightly-colored bottles -- in blue, orange and yellow -- enclosed a duck, baby and monkey. These exhibits are all part of the Penn Artist Guild's gallery show, which opened Monday and will continue through October 27. The purpose of the exhibit is to infuse the community with awareness of the range of artists on campus and to begin to form an active artistic community of students and faculty, according to College senior and Artist Guild Co-founder Bryanna Millis. College senior and Co-Founder Rori Duboff quoted the words of author Beauvais Lyons in explaining the group's goal. "The public should be encouraged to think of the university of a lab in which varying cultural and intellectual perspectives can interact," she read from a large poster at the entrance to the exhibit. "When art is permitted to function as a part of this process, it can best serve the mission of the university and the community at large." Duboff explained that most visitors reacted strongly to the quote. "[The statement] focuses on a problem we have at the University -- namely that art cannot be isolated," she said. "It is relevant to all students." College senior Adam Matta's work "Put Up or Shut Up," the balloon chain, reflected the group's desire to make students more aware about art. "The original concept came to me at the first meeting of the Art Guild," he explained. "Half of the people who attended didn't even know where the art buildings were. I thought we should have had a map to give out, but instead I decided to make a huge [visual] map and hammer it into people's head." College junior Matthew Blanchard, creator of the colored jar piece called "Select Friends," said the arch asks people to "connect and wake up. "Art at Penn is waking up and coming to its fruition," he explained. "That's what the exhibit is all about." College sophomore Joshua Schuster, who created "Weathered Ink," explained that his work essentially imitates nature and the natural operation of art. "We need to impress undergraduate life with something different," he explained. "The Art Guild is an excellent forum to exchange ideas and interact on a social aesthetic level." Many in attendance at Monday night's opening celebration agreed with Guild members that art must become a bigger priority on campus. "I usually go downtown to see art and it makes me feel really good to see it right here," said Engineering junior Ratna Amin. "Penn students are really trying to do something about art." College senior Neil Sachs agreed, explaining that he was happy to see so many people at the exhibit. "Penn needs more balloon statues and things like it," he said.
(09/18/95 9:00am)
From Nathan Smith's "South End of the Northbound," Fall 1995 From Nathan Smith's "South End of the Northbound," Fall 1995Class dismissed. I don't know for sure, but I think I pulled it off. Nobody stared as I quietly and swiftly made my way out into the hallway, away from that first graduate class. Somehow I managed to maintain some color in my face, and the quart of rubber cement in my mouth succeeded in holding up that artificial half grin especially shaped to say, "Hey, I'm a confident but not cocky graduate student who's ready to tackle the problems of the world without overly idealistic expectations of success." Then I realized that there was in fact a 300 pound man, who forgot to look down before rushing in, sitting on my chest. But after a quick "Sorry pal, this stall is taken!" I was relieved of this uncomfortable pressure. Yes, all in all, I think I came off pretty well. It was a close one too, for one student introduced himself and seemed about to shake my hand, and his firm grip would have shot my sweaty hand out like a watermelon seed. In anticipation, as he approached I tactfully blew my nose on my palm, which effectively discouraged him from such personal contact. Stomach emptied, pores drained, brain numbed, I did what any good grad student does to settle his or her nerves in times of crisis (or for that matter, in times of peace, mourning, emergency, epileptic seizure, or plain old fatigue) -- I went straight to the nearest caffeine pusher for a double espresso. Fortunately a coffee truck sat waiting just around the corner from the Graduate School of Education. He saw me coming and began rubbing his palms together, knowing full well he had a lifetime addict in need of a fix. He did seem a bit confused by the contradictory indications, like the violent facial tick in my right cheek and the way when pulling my wallet out I accidentally flung it into his truck. "Um, I think you've had enough, pal," he said out of genuine concern for my neurons, which were already firing out of control. "Shut up and fill 'er up," I barked. He complied, as any good business man would, faced with a customer on the brink of explosion. After all, he already had my wallet, although he did have to extract it from the deep fryer. He presented my billfold along with the steaming cup of java I so desperately needed. I cut the cup of 40 weight motor oil with coffee-bright-tooth-bleaching-nuclear fission-byproduct to buffer the growing ulcer in my stomach, and in a moment of silence performed a ritual uncommon to agnostics like myself -- I prayed. "Dear God who probably doesn't exist, whose name I refuse to capitalize or specify, who annointest my brain with stimulants, please let me be struck down for my numerous atrocities committed upon innocent coffee beans, for I have heartlessly ground them to dust, boiled them, and consumed their lifeblood with glee. Please -- paralysis, emphysema, flood, locusts -- anything that would demand my immediate withdrawal from graduate school!" When I opened my eyes I discovered no loss of feeling in my limbs, no unusual tumors or even phlegm in my lungs and throat, and no swarming insects consuming my flesh. What a letdown. Once again I'd proved to myself that prayer just doesn't cut it. It would seem that any such catastrophe would have to be self-inflicted. I had only begun contemplating morbid techniques for making my dismemberment look like an accident, when an internal struggle snapped me out of this reverie. "Hey, wake up! You wanted this, remember? Remember the applications, the endless financial aid requests and appeals, the apartment hunting, the U-Haul rental? So what if you have to buy $500 worth of books (approximately three texts at our local discount bookstore) and have them all read by tomorrow morning? You knew what you were getting into!" My id, the greedy little Freudian construct that it is, tried desperately to argue, using the many drawbacks at hand. "But the weather, the work, the fact that nobody around here fries every meal (including breakfast cereal)! The fact that there aren't any mud-doggin' hootin' and a hollerin' rebel-yelling Lynard Skynard-loving rednecks squealing tires around every corner!" Grasping at straws, the old id had undermined it's own argument. "Look, I'll grant you that the weather blows. But you can make the food yourself, if you miss it so much. And you hate those beer bellied Budweiser bandits anyway, with their ridiculous glasspacks and jacked up tires, and the mud they intentionally spray over the sides of their trucks and don't wash off for weeks just to hide the big Toyota lettering. "Remember the beer bottle winged at you from just such a vehicle, accompanied with shouts of 'damned hippie.' Do you honestly miss that? Are you genuinely disappointed that you haven't seen a single person with that tobacco bulge in their lower lip, steel-toed boots, and a confederate flag T-shirt with the slogan 'Malcolm who?' printed underneath the blue 'X' of southern rebellion? You were disgusted by that, remember? "Anyway, people do squeal their tires around every corner here, often spinning out on unsuspecting pedestrians. And if you really miss the excitement of being abused by mental midgets on a regular basis, just start protesting police brutality." Not to be outdone, the id pulled a one-two sucker punch. "But the incredible debt! You're going to be up to your neck in unsubsidized loans, and trying to pay them back through a job in education! You'll fall through the cracks! You'll have to sell your grandmother into slavery to pay it off." Then superego brought the argument to a dead halt: "Hey, what about the kids? What about making a difference? What about helping the impoverished, the oppressed, the needy?" Now that was hitting below the belt. The truth spouted by my superego couldn't be ignored. I swear, that one part of my psyche causes more trouble than it's worth. So I swallowed my bitter insecurities, and uttered a small disclaimer, "Hey you big, cuddly, omnipresent, omniscient, omnisexual force you, if you really are out there please disregard all aforementioned requests until the next time I fall into utter desperation (probably later this evening) sincerely your pal, Nathan." Knowing full well that disclaimers are as futile as prayers, I didn't fret about any real acts of retribution, and went on to take care of business. I mean, we all have our moments of crisis (at least one every few hours); we just can't forget the reasons why we have to go on. And as for grandmother, she'd never fetch the cost of tuition.
(09/01/95 9:00am)
· The two-liter plastic soda bottle was designed by Nathaniel Wyeth, Class of 1963. · Murphy Brown star Candice Bergen was Penn's homecoming queen in 1964. · College Hall is rumored to have been the inspiration for The Addams Family mansion, designed by University alumnus Charles Addams. · After being fatally wounded by assassins, Presidents Abraham Lincoln and James Garfield were treated by doctors who graduated from the University. And although Penn sports teams have clearly dominated the Ivies in the past few years, consider these previous accomplishments: · Penn was one of the two teams to play in the first commercially televised football game. · The Penn Relays are the world's largest track meet. · The University's Palestra has hosted more basketball games, more visiting teams and more NCAA tournament games than any other athletic facility in the country. · Franklin Field is the oldest two-tiered collegiate stadium still in use today, and is also home to the country's first stadium scoreboard. · The first African-American to win an Olympic gold medal was John Taylor, a Penn grad. · Penn's football team was the first to use numbers on its jerseys. · The two most prestigious collegiate athletic awards -- the Heisman and Outland trophies -- are named after former University athletes John Heisman and John Outland. · Penn alum Charles Diven, Class of 1936, is credited with inventing the basketball jump shot. Some Penn Firsts: · First university in the nation · First U.S. medical school · First business school in the country · First computer -- ENIAC · First student union · First teaching hospital · First psychology clinic Famous Penn Alumni: · Benjamin West, painter, 1775 · William Henry Harrison, U.S. President, 1791 · Ezra Pound, poet, 1903 · Sadie Mossell Alexander, Philadelphia attorney, 1918. · Raymond Alexander, Philadelphia attorney, 1920 · William Paley, former CBS owner, 1922 · I.F. Stone, journalist, 1927 · William Brennan, former U.S. Supreme Court justice, 1928 · Walter Annenberg, newspaper magnate and former U.S. ambassador to Great Britain, 1931 · Harold Prince, Broadway producer, 1948 · Martin Luther King, Jr., civil rights leader, 1949-1950 · Saul Steinberg, financier, 1959 · Donald Trump, real estate mogul, 1968 · John Roberts, Woodstock Festival co-founder/producer, 1966 Famous Penn near-Alumni (i.e. they dropped out): · Maury Povich, talk show host · Alan Rachins, L.A. Law actor Penn Nobel Prize Winners: · Otto Meyerhoff, medicine, 1923 · Robert Hofstadter, physics, 1961 · Ragnar Granit, medicine, 1967 · Halden Hartline, medicine, 1967 · Simon Kuznets, economics, 1971 · Christian B. Anfinsen, chemistry, 1972 · Gerald Edelman, medicine, 1972 · J. Robert Schrieffer, physics, 1972 · Baruch S. Blumberg, medicine, 1976 · Lawrence R. Klein, economics, 1980 · Michael Brown, medicine, 1985
(05/03/95 9:00am)
The University saw a decrease in violent crimes stemming from post–Penn Relay celebrations compared to the previous year, as nearly 50 University Police officers patrolled on and around campus Saturday night and early Sunday morning. Last year's celebrations were marred by reports of gunshots, stabbings and even incidents of students being dragged from cars and severely beaten. This year saw no such violence, although University and Philadelphia Police officers still responded to four separate fights that broke out Saturday night. The first began at the intersection of 34th and Walnut streets when a bottle was thrown into a vehicle at about 6:30 p.m. University Police Sergeant Tom Rambo said University Police officers dispersed the combatants but made no arrests. A second fight -- with racial overtones -- broke out at 39th and Walnut streets when several white men started chanting "O.J." at a large group of black men at about 8:45 p.m. University Police Chief George Clisby, who was at the scene, said University Police broke up the fight and arrested one man for aggravated assault. A University Police officer was injured in the leg when she intervened in the melee and had to be taken to the Hospital of the University Pennsylvania, Clisby added. The officer was treated and released. In a third incident, 10 men began fighting in front of the Wawa Food Market at 38th and Spruce streets shortly after 11 p.m. The fight then spilled out into the street, prompting University Police to break up the brawl. No arrests were made. And nearly 30 minutes later University Police officers broke up the fourth fight at 38th and Chestnut streets. Again, no arrests were made. Prior to the Relays, University Police Commissioner John Kuprevich said that his department would be at "maximum" staffing levels during the track meet. He also said Philadelphia and University Police officers would be highly concentrated along Spruce Street between 34th and 38th streets and at 40th and Chestnut streets for the party sponsored by members of the Kappa Alpha Psi fraternity who live in the area. More than 1,000 people were at the Kappa Alpha Psi party, as some 25 police officers contained the crowd to the north sidewalk of Chestnut Street between 40th and 41st streets. University Police Sergeant Keith Christian said there were no incidents at the party, which continued past 4 a.m. Last year, partygoers blocked traffic for hours as the party spread into the streets. Police also said that last year there were a number of reports of gunshots and motorists being harassed at this corner.
(05/03/95 9:00am)
" '96 is taking over, baby." Those were the words chanted by the Junior Class as they began the traditional Hey Day march that would take them from Hill Field to the Quadrangle to College Green and finally, to seniorhood. Clad in red T-shirts and armed with wooden canes, members of the Class of 1996 streamed out on to Locust Walk on a mission and nothing was going to get in the way. Their day had finally come. The annual Hey Day festivities officially started at noon Friday with a picnic at Hill Field, but the juniors were more interested in taking bites out of each other's styrofoam hats than anything that Dining Services could serve up. Laughing and dancing under the blazing sun, the class came together for the first time since Freshman Convocation in 1992. Squeals of joy rang out as students recognized old friends and classmates whom they had not seen in years. There was a lot of catching up to do. "It's a total freshman year reunion -- my whole freshman hall is here," College junior Jessica Basil said. "We're becoming friends with people we don't know, too." At 3 p.m. the mostly-inebriated crowd managed to arrange themselves into something that vaguely resembled a line at the gate of the field. A few who decided to break with tradition and don blue shirts and shower caps were noticeable drifting amid the overwhelming sea of red shirts and white hats. With Junior Class President Lenny Chang at the front of the line, the crowd began to proceed up Locust Walk, cheered on by the hundreds of spectators who had turned out to celebrate with them. The excitement was contagious. Even the slightly confused Penn Relay participants stopped stretching on College Green to join in the festivities. It took almost a half hour for the throng to make its way to the Quad, stopping frequently to dance with the Quaker band and bang their canes on everything and everyone in sight. The group then converged on the Junior Balcony. Several engaged in mock swordfighting on the way up the Quad steps, while the rest continued their celebration. "When I was a freshman, I knew what was going on, but I never imagined it would be this much fun," College junior Michael Katz said. "You don't get to wreak havoc on Penn like this everyday." By 4 p.m. the class made its way down Spruce Street, through Superblock, and across the bridge. They assembled on College Green, drinking out of mugs, cans, bottles -- and even fishbowls. A roar erupted from the crowd when President Judith Rodin appeared, wearing her own styrofoam hat. "It looks to me like the Class of '96 is ready," said Rodin, who had to wait a few minutes for the screams to die down before she could continue with her speech. "And so may I say to you, by the powers invested in me by the Trustees of the University of Pennsylvania, I now declare you seniors!" The band immediately began a rousing rendition of the "Red and Blue" and the crowd jubilantly waved their canes to perform the Penn salute. Next up at the podium was Class of 1995 President Loren Mendell, who presented the ceremonial gavel to his successor, Chang, a Wharton junior. But before the ceremony was over, Mandell had a favor to ask. "I'm going to ask you to share your seniority with us, because none of us want to graduate," he said. "For the next three weeks, until May 22, there are going to be four thousand seniors." Chang's speech was also brief and his words were barely audible over the boisterous crowd. "Class of '96, we finally made it," he said. "We are finally seniors." After introducing next year's class board, Chang exited the podium, riding on the shoulders of his fellow classmates. The crowd took a while to disperse, as many remained on College Green long after the ceremony ended. "Hey Day is the point at which you realize how near the rest of your life is," College and Engineering junior Chip Keener said. "You have one more year left -- and then you enter the real world. "So, of course it's a reason to party," he added.
(05/03/95 9:00am)
Several animal rights activists reported finding the severed head and skin of what appeared to be a sheep in a garbage facility behind the Hillel Foundation on Saturday afternoon. The animal's remains were wrapped in a bloodstained sheet, along with a notebook, two broken beer bottles, two blue candles and a white rose. On the blood-splattered notebook the following was written: The fraternity of Phi Gamma Delta, hereby, relinquish any liability for the undersigned on the night of April 28, 1995. Thirteen signatures were written underneath the message. Two of the signatures appeared to read Joseph Mauro and John Ward. The other eleven signatures were illegible. Ward, a Wharton freshman, said he had no knowledge of the dead animal or the note and refused further comment. Mauro, a College freshman, also said he had no knowledge of the remains or note, but he confirmed that he was a Fiji brother initiated on April 19. A person in the Fiji house who identified himself as the fraternity's president, but refused to give his name, said he had no knowledge of the remains and declined further comment. The dead animal was found 50 feet from the Fiji house at 3619 Locust Walk. University Police responded to the scene at about 3:07 p.m, at which time University Police Detective Supervisor Mike Carroll said he believed the animal was not freshly killed. He said the individuals responsible for the remains could be not be charged with the crime of cruelty to animals if the animal had been killed in a slaughterhouse or by a butcher. University Police Detective Laura Schmerfeld said the animal's severed head was professionally sawed in half, with equipment typically found in a slaughterhouse or butcher shop. The remains were transported to the Veterinary School of Medicine to determine when the animal was killed, Carroll said. He added that there is an ongoing University Police investigation into the incident. The animal remains were discovered by Philadelphia resident Melvin Belser. He said he originally thought the remains were a mop head, but on closer inspection he realized it was an animal's head and skin. Belser said he then told several animal rights activists in front of Van Pelt Library, who coincidentally were protesting the alleged use of dogs in medical training classes by the University. The activists then notified University Police. Office of Fraternity and Sorority Affairs Tricia Phaup refused to comment on the incident Sunday afternoon.
(04/24/95 9:00am)
Eight students were arrested early yesterday morning when University Police attempted to clear a crowd of about 3,000 people at Sansom Street's annual Spring Fling block party and a Delta Tau Delta fraternity party, according to University Police Commissioner John Kuprevich. Nearly 30 Philadelphia and University Police officers -- including University Police Chief George Clisby and Captain John Richardson -- began to break up both parties at about 1:30 a.m. The Sansom Street block party was located on Sansom Street from 39th to 40th streets, and the crowd spilled around the corner to the DTD party at 39th and Sansom streets. University Police Sergeant Tom Rambo said the arrested students were cited for crimes varying from disorderly conduct to fighting, dancing on cars and "aggressively refusing to leave the block." The eight students cited included former Undergraduate Assembly member Dan Schorr and Daily Pennsylvanian columnist Mike Nadel, sources said. Nadel refused to comment; Schorr was unavailable for comment. In addition to the arrests, Rambo said one student was taken to the Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania after he fell on a broken bottle and injured his leg. Rambo added that to keep the Sansom Street Block Party from getting out of control, as it had in past years, University Police made an agreement with the houses on Sansom Street to stop playing music at 1:30 a.m. and to have partygoers begin filing out. However, DTD Vice President and College sophomore Jason Brenner said the DTD party was not connected with the block party and his fraternity not have an agreement with University Police to turn off the music at a set time. Kuprevich said two of the students who were arrested and cited for disorderly conduct are claiming University Police used an unreasonable level of force. Kuprevich also said the breakup of the parties was "handled extremely professionally" and these two were the only reports of unreasonable force made to University Police. But he added he would be meeting with the two students today to discuss the incident. He also said that the clearing of the parties was part of a series of actions taken by University Police to "maintain order" throughout Fling. Since Thursday night, University Police have responded to an average of 20 disturbance calls per night and taken about six students each day to HUP for alcohol treatment, according to Kuprevich. In addition, University Police also received a large number of noise complaints from neighborhood residents. Kuprevich added that considering the number of Fling events and large number of people involved, the level of University Police intervention was "really minimal."
(04/14/95 9:00am)
Students craving matzoh on the move can turn to a new development in fast food service over the Passover holiday. Lubavitch House and the Zeta Beta Tau fraternity have teamed up to offer Jewish University students Seders-to-Go. The project, which is sponsored nationally by the Hasidic Chabad Lubavitch movement, will give those students staying on campus the opportunity to celebrate Passover Seders, according to Lubavitch House Director Ephraim Levin. "We recognize there are a lot of students who don't go anywhere [for the holiday]," he added. "There is pizza to go, now there are seders to go. This is Jewish fast food." The free packages -- which include matzoh, a bottle of kosher wine, a Passover prayer book and most of the holiday's other traditional symbols -- were put together at the ZBT fraternity house. College senior Matt Ingber said the program helps to promote a more widespread observance of the holiday. "I think people who don't go home assume they can't observe the Seder," he commented. "Having these packages at their disposal makes celebrating the Passover Seders that much easier." And Levin said the packages constitute a cheap way for Jewish students to celebrate the holiday. "It's very effective because it's convenient and it's also for free," he said. "It's appropriate in a sense because the Passover Seder is something familiar to Jewish students." Levin said the program has been received enthusiastically by students both in the University and on a national scale. He noted that 150 Seders-to-Go packages were delivered at the University and added that over 1,000 packages were given out nationwide. Levin said Seders-to-Go will reinforce the religious identity of the students who receive them. "It'll help strengthen their identity [by observing] the holiday," he said. "Plus, it's good for the waist." Ingber agreed that the program serves as an effective way of perpetuating Jewish tradition at the University. "I think it helps to promote the Jewish heritage around campus," he said. "It's a nice gesture." The first night of Passover is tonight.
(04/12/95 9:00am)
From Marc Teillon's "The Public Pillory," Fall '95 From Marc Teillon's "The Public Pillory," Fall '95Every national debate seems to find its way to West Philadelphia. Sometimes it takes an issue a year before it makes its way onto Locust Walk. Other times it seems like the campus is in sync with Washington. But whether its support of gays in the military, a.k.a. the let's kick ROTC off-campus because homosexuals lost in Congressional campaigns, or a placard on Good Morning America protesting Proposition 187, a.k.a. let's continue to give illegal immigrants the benefits of law abiding citizens, the message is all the same. Every time a major issue comes to town, the more vociferous campus activists are always ready to protest and they always enlist in the wrong side of the debate. "On the 27th anniversary of the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr., community leaders held a dramatic vigil in front of the peace symbol on College Green Tuesday to call attention to gun-related crime and to suggest ways to end violence," according to The Daily Pennsylvanian's story. Now, if the campus community wants to have a ceremony or rally in memory of Dr. King, then "The Public Pillory" is all for it. But what hides under the guise of a vigil was actually a cheap attempt to play off peoples' emotions to win them over to a cause that punishes law-abiding citizens under the pretense of safety and non-violence. The Nazis had it. Communist China has it. The elitist establishment wants it. Sarah Brady, the husband of former Press Secretary James Brady, gets all teary-eyed over it. And what is this great social policy that is supposed to resurrect the Garden of Eden and make city streets safe again? You guessed it. Gun control. Now, a vigil usually involves devotional prayer, a few candles, and possibly a sermon. But last Tuesday's event had nothing to do with "Martin Luther King's vision," as Joel Chinitz of Physicians for Social Responsibility announced to the audience. It also had nothing to do with honoring King's memory. Instead, the participants turned the day into a mass political tearjerk. According to the DP, "Event leaders began the 'heal-in' by telling local horror stories of gun-related violence while a woman stood next to the podium, marking each tale with a loud drumbeat. As each speaker read a statistic about gun-related violence, participants fell to the ground, as if shot by an imaginary assailant." The hysteria heightened reached its peak when the "featured speakers tried to identify the causes of violence." "When you don't protect the education of children, you let loose animals. You create pimps, prostitutes and thieves," shouted the keynote speaker, Reverend James Bevel. Another participant added his own enlightened theory, "We need to lock up our guns, not our people." It should come as no surprise that nobody offered up statistics that show that guns are actually used to protect persons and property. Nobody bothered to quote Jeffrey R. Snyder's article appearing in the January 1994 issue of Public Interest or criminologist Gary Kleck. In his study, Snyder showed that, according to the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms, there are some 200 million firearms in the United States. Only one third of them are handguns, hovering around 60 to 70 million. But despite many weapons of destruction in the hands of so many people, there are but 30,000 deaths from guns per year (suicides, murders, and accidents). That figure includes all firearms, not just handguns. Thus, most of the guns out there have never been used to kill a person. But the real kicker is Kleck's finding. Using various public surveys, Kleck found that in the years 1979-81 alone, "there were 644,976 defensive uses of handguns against persons per year, excluding police or military use." Compare that to the average 30,000 deaths caused by firearms in Snyder's study and you get the point. While some people do use guns to kill, more than twenty times as many individuals use them to protect their families and private property. It comes as no surprise that such information was not made available because the whole event was based on emotion, not fact. You see, there is no individual responsibility in gun-related murders. The gun-control of today is like the anti-drug era of the eighties and the temperance movement at the turn of the century. The evil is in the object, not the human heart. Get rid of the nefarious good, whether its a bottle of whiskey or a .38 Special, and everyone will work hard and play fair. And where will children learn to behave this way? Why, in the public school system, of course. We are all born with a blank slate. Our environment is what makes us the way we are. As long as the teachers get their hands on students early on, they will be able to make them into good little citizens, free from any violent thoughts. But there are two fundamental flaws with these statements. Are guns the only cause of violence in America? What about knives? What about baseball bats? What about hands and feet? All have been used to commit violent crimes. Where do you stop in the banning process? Since the object is actually the guilty party, every possible murder weapon will find its way on to the "public enemy" list, whether it's a golf club or a broomstick. And what about the educational system? While education is important to a civilized society, what about children who don't commit crimes? For every thug with a "one eight seven on an undercover cop," there are hundreds of teenagers avoiding gun use every day. For every lunatic who runs into a McDonald's and kills more than twenty people, there are thousands of gun users who have never killed a person. If the federal government created a Gun Gestapo today, crime would not disappear. The problems plaguing our society go far deeper that the mere existence of automatic pistols. Disarming the innocent citizenry will only further its vulnerability in the eyes of the criminals. The protesters last week, like the rest of the anti-gun establishment in this country, are not serious about stopping crime. They simply want to take away your guns so they can go home at night and feel good about their "good" deed to humanity. And when crime doesn't stop and the police are overwhelmed, you're forced to put bars on the windows, bolt locks on the doors and ADT security systems in the houses. And while the murderers and rapists rule the streets when the sun goes down, it's the innocent citizens who are locked in their homes, unable to enjoy their neighborhoods after dark. In late twentieth century America, it's kind of hard to tell who are the law-abiding citizens and who are the criminals.
(04/06/95 9:00am)
From Paul Godinez's "Word Up G," Fall '95 From Paul Godinez's "Word Up G," Fall '95Somebody better call the president about this horrific plague infesting the campus. Its cause has not yet been determined though the infected group is composed entirely of 18 to 22 year olds. Most likely the ill were infected in their familiar environments, home, school and social organizations before arrival in this environment, although the possibility remains open that the Penn environment is the perpetrator. There are many particularly bad strains of this plague, most commonly diagnosed as rudeness. Let us begin with food. Granted breakfast is the most important meal of the day and the most popular campus compliment to the DP crossword puzzle is the Skolnik's bagel with lox. However, there is nothing worse than watching and hearing someone munching during lecture. The Physical Plant workers really don't need to know what muffin and coffee combination was snacked on in that 10 a.m. lecture where you left the notorious My Favorite Muffin bag. This is to say nothing of the incredible Snapple bottle collection those guys must have down in the shop after cleaning up the class rooms at the end of the day. I am just waiting for the Snapple lady to answer a letter from these hapless busboys. Without fail some genius will send the errant Snapple or Trade Winds or, better yet, the Evian Spring Water bottle crashing to the floor during lecture. Why someone cannot survive a 50 minute lecture without fluids is an outstanding session for Montel, Phil, Jenny or Oprah. Of course, in order to eat in class you have to make it there first. This, in Penn terms, translates into five to 10 minutes after the professor begins lecture. The longer lectures get those overeager scholars stepping to the plate 30 minutes after the fact. One wonders whether the protests would ever end if professors were given such lenient treatment. Even when they are late those rude individuals never fail to let everyone else know they are slackers by situating themselves as noisily as possible. Bruce Kuklick once used his kids' toys to shoot those individuals late to his history class. Needless to say, the batteries' charge was sufficiently reduced. He was definitely on the right track. Maybe the department should start issuing Tasers. When situated in the class the methods of irritation for professors and fellow students seem infinite. An alarming percentage of students must suffer from sever bladder problems because they feel the urgent need to get up in the middle of a lecture to disappear for 10 minutes. This is a regular occurrence with some, pointing to a possible biological phenomenon. I guess that is why God created urologists. The other enterprising deviants try every means of hiding the crossword puzzle somewhere on the desk, thinking the professor does not see it when you know they do. Still others call out, talk in class or try every means of bringing attention to their finite intelligence and irreverent behavior. The callous treatment of the educational elders is certainly mystifying. After years of self-inflicted poverty, countless hours of research and intense periods of revision of acclaimed publications, professors get to deal with all this rudeness. It is no wonder that professors seem to go on sabbatical every other semester. The hierarchical, professor-student relationship seems but only an antique relic now. Students can come late, unprepared, get up without permission, disrupt class without repercussions and still expect to be treated fairly in the grading process. Perhaps the Catholic school/old school mentality could be the cure to this dangerous plague. Back in my Catholic school days teachers had free reign to crack knuckles on heads, pull ears and use every intimidation technique perfected in the seminary and convent to discipline students. The demerit system was ok, but the real intimidation came with the confrontations where teachers maintained discipline at all costs. Detention was writing the constitution or picking up trash on school grounds, measures that were instructive or constructive for the troublemakers. The old school was and is a good school, though I fear there are not enough lawyers in Philadelphia to handle the lawsuits or enough psychologists in the universe to nurse the bruised egos if some of the Christian Brothers or Sisters of Saint Francis came to teach courses at this seemingly pristine academic institution. Some professors do make the efforts to create the ideal environment for learning. One professor, the very first day, set down certain guidelines for his class: no eating, drinking, talking or hats worn in the class. While it seemed funny and comical it was a positive step towards securing his power over the classroom environment. Perhaps all professors should take note of one Professor Teune. Mold your ideal classroom early and often, so as to eradicate the dangerous plague afflicting America's best and brightest. And if you must, and you must, do not hold back from cracking down on the slackers. After all, they are hurting the students just as much as they are distracting you. And if you get any lip, tell them Sister Gertrude Sullivan told you so.
(03/21/95 10:00am)
The unifying element of Wharton senior Bill Elliott's recording studio is out the window. Really, it is. The wires that connect Elliott's board of infinite dials in the control room (a.k.a. Elliott's bedroom), to the the microphones in the second floor studio run down the side of 3721 Chestnut Street. Elliott, who plays guitar and does vocals for the Philadelphia band Splendorbin, invested in recording equipment about a year ago when the band was looking to make a demo tape and found the prices prohibitive. So, Elliot charged up $2,000 on his credit card, crammed all the equipment into his room at the Pi Lambda Phi fraternity house and fulfilled his teenage desire to have recording studio in his own home. Although the project started as a hobby, an entrepreneurial venture and an effort to help his band, the studio also serves another purpose. It offers local bands a cheaper, convenient way to produce an "improved quality" demo tape. While the band found studios charged a minimum of $20 to $25 per hour plus the charge of the tape, Elliott charges $10 per hour plus a materials fee. "I know there are a lot of bands at Penn who want to record something," he said. "This is affordable and close to them, if they don't have cars to transport the equipment." In his shoebox-like room, Elliott has all the equipment necessary to perform a process most people don't think about -- the transformation of live music to digital tape. To make a recording, he first decides which instrument will be assigned to which track, or connection. Each of the eight tracks is recorded separately, then mixed by "overdubbing" to achieve the right sound levels. The music is recorded on a reel to reel and then transferred to a digital tape. When Splendorbin recorded the tape for the seven-inch vinyl it recently released in Elliott's studio, he found it "kind of tricky" to make and mix the music at the same time. But no, he didn't run up and down the stairs really fast; he first recorded all the other instruments and then simply played with one hand while controlling the mixing equipment with the other. Sounds more than a little tricky. Elliott said he has invested between $8,000 and $9,000 in recording equipment since he first started the business. But the price is worth it if the quality improves, he added. Wearing a Fishbone t-shirt, black suede sneakers, that just-rolled-out-of-bed hairdo and nursing a squat bottle of Redstripe, Elliott switches his gaze from the street below to his soundboard. As his fingers dance across the dials, turning each one with the comfort of experience and the quickness of a pro, it is clear how much he has invested himself in the music industry. And Elliott is not undertaking the endeavor for purely economical reasons. "We just want to put some good music out that otherwise wouldn't be heard," he said. Elliott said his father seems to agree. "Then my dad calls me to find out if I've got my job on Wall Street yet," he said with a slight smile. "He's pretty much figured out that I'm not going to be considering that." Elliott explained that his father was in a band in his college days, and he opened for the Byrds. But salaries have changed since then, he added. "He says 'all you'll make is 25 for the night and all you can drink,' " Elliott said. "And all I make is 15 and three beers. But I'm happy this way."
