| Hungry Hearts
TCU Hunger Week is sponsoring a six-day effort to raise awareness and funds for world hunger this week. By presenting startling statistics and holding daily events, the Hunger Week committee is aimed at educating students on the serious nature of world hunger. Mandy Mahan, Hunger Week chairwoman, said 24,000 people die every day of hunger-related deaths. That figure is equivalent to an atomic bomb being dropped on Hiroshima every three and a half days. Mahan and her committee designed 14 events for members of the TCU community, including a coffeehaus, canned-food drive, a hunger jail and silent auction. Mahan said TCU students should attend these events because it is difficult for them to understand world hunger when living inside a college environment. "We need to realize how fortunate we are as Americans," Mahan said. "If we don't recognize problems like this, then we are not being responsible citizens of the world." According to the National Campaign Against Hunger and Homelessness, TCU raises an annual average of $10,000 for hunger problems. The national college average is only $800. TCU serves not only as an example to other colleges and universities, but also the members of our own school and community. Student activism is rarely seen on this campus. However, Hunger Week proves a passionate example for all. We praise the example and encourage everyone to support Hunger Week activities and other global peace issues. After all, everyone has the right to live.
Intelligence not a racial matter Lino Graglia, a law professor at the University of Texas at Austin, has obviously figured out the problems with higher education in America. Too many minorities. Graglia aroused national attention in 1997 when he came to the informed conclusion that African-Americans and Hispanics can't compete academically with whites and Asian-Americans. At a panel discussion on affirmative action last week, Graglia insightfully said, "Obviously, blacks and Mexican-Americans are not academically competitive - that's why there are preferences. It appears that people from some cultures are more dedicated to education than those from other cultures." People actually have been saying the same thing for several centuries, but at the time, minorities (including Asian-Americans) weren't allowed to go to the same schools with whites. Upon closer inspection and with nearly three decades of integrated schooling, now those same people have a basis for those claims. With the advent of standardized testing, brilliant minds such as Graglia and David Duke now have proof that minorities are indeed stupid. Can you imagine that? Some white people have man-made tests showing they are smarter than minorities. For those who are interested, "The Bell Curve, Intelligence and Class Structure in American Life" by Richard Herrnstein and Charles Murray spent nearly 1,000 pages of type analyzing just that topic. Quite fascinating stuff, huh? But it's academic, you know. They would have us believe this is all in the interest of science and American duty. Now the average person may wonder why anyone would deem it necessary to prove intellectual inferiority in minorities, especially when using such a slanted set of standards. Who are these people who construct tests that claim to encompass the human mind? I'm sure I could ask those people a question they don't know. Perhaps my 2-year-old cousin could pose a question that could stump them. Does that make them any more or less intelligent? By using standardized tests as the sole set of criteria in determining someone's academic competence, we are being told that everything we ever learned at the age of 17 is all we need to know. Either you have it or you don't. For those who don't, people like Graglia are implying that not only are these people's brains vacant, but that they are sprayed with Teflon. Apparently, even four or more years of college education can't cure this kind of inadequacy. So we have a mass of children under the age of 17, mostly with dark skin, who will be virtually unemployable and unteachable, according to Graglia's logic. At the beginning of life, regardless of their circumstances, Graglia is saying that even if these minority children are told or shown how to find the answers, the information won't be retained. Can you imagine? "Sorry you didn't do well on your SAT. Well, what will it be? Prison or menial labor?" My answer is to not take Graglia, and those like him, seriously. But Graglia, who I'm assuming is one of the most knowledgeable men I'll ever meet, should check where his culture comes from. Scientists generally agree that the place from which humankind sprang forth is Africa. All of us (us being humans) had a starting point. Human remains recognized as among the oldest on record are always popping up somewhere in Africa or the Middle East. Not Europe, as Graglia would like to believe. So where does Graglia think his culture really came from? Could it be that he is destined for utter and irrefutable ignorance like the rest of us? Or is it too late?
Joel Anderson is a senior news-editorial journalism major from Missouri City, Texas. He can be reached at (jdanderson@delta.is.tcu.edu). Super-villains' life more appealing than grad school Yesterday, about nine different people asked me about my post-TCU plans. Since I am unsure, I gave nine different answers, which ranged from the mundane (grad-school) to the unlikely (grad school) to the silly (diving into entry-level corporate positions) to the probable (giant-robot pilot). Today, however, I hit upon my best idea yet. Instead of leaping into the job market or running from it via grad school, I will be looking into a career of super-villainry. I've read quite a few comic books over the years, and super-villains have it pretty sweet. As near as I can tell, all super-villainry requires is a little bit of planning, lots of laughing and plenty of destruction. Not only that, but it seems to pay well because their outfits, costumes and equipment probably have to be tailor-made. I mean, Dr. Octopus had four extra arms to fit into a double-breasted suit, and the tailors at J. Riggins or the Men's Wearhouse just can't cut it.
"But Steve, having a bachelor degree doesn't guarantee anything! Don't you have to have super-powers to be a super-villain?" That is a very good question my friends, and the answer is: not necessarily. Certainly, some historical super-villains such as Magneto, Galactus, and Ronald McDonald have inherent abilities that are both super and evil, but others merely rely on evil genius and a staff that does the dirty work, which is probably what I intend to do. Oh sure, I've always preferred natural super-villains to the evil genius variety, but when life hands you evil genius, you make evil lemonade. However, there are a few problems I've discovered with my plan. For instance, super-villainry requires super-heroics in order for it to work properly, and as far as I'm concerned, the super-hero market can never be under-filled. Coinciding with this problem of super-heroes is that every super-villain needs an arch-nemesis. I already have several, the most prominent being the weird old lady from the Old Navy commercials. The problem here is that she is already a super-villain, what with her crusty voice and peculiar relationship with that dog. If she is my arch-nemesis and already a super-villain, then I would probably have to be a super-hero, and we all know that I don't want any part of that life. That is only a minor problem. A bigger problem facing my future career is raising the necessary capital to finance world conquest. I decided that petty theft is probably an inadequate means of finance, and if investors shy away from Internet porn sites, you can bet they'll shy away from my plan. And what is that plan, you ask? Well, in order for me to explain it to you, you all will have to picture yourself tied up on a metal bench with an industrial laser creeping between your legs and a net full of molten hot, radioactive weasels looming over your head. Got that mental picture? Excellent. Now, since you have failed to foil my preliminary plans, and your imminent doom is, well, imminent, I will reveal my fiendish plot. After stealing my little brother's Pokémon cards and selling them at a flea market, I will have amassed enough cash to finance an army of giant robots (no, they don't turn into anything, but that's a good idea) that will march across the world and threaten the world's capitals by menacingly waving their pincer arms. At the same time, an even bigger flying robot with a huge sucking tube will suck up all of Fort Worth's water and then use it to poison the rest of the country's water with nasty Fort Worth tap water if my demands are not met. Oh yeah, my demands, by the way, are simple. Detroit must put muscle cars back into production. Thundercats, G.I. Joe and Transformers must be run during prime time, and Texas must have regular, seasonal weather. So for those of you who have some big important plan to make lots of money or really change the world, I've got the same things in mind. I just have a grander, more villainous (at least for someone who isn't in the business school) means of achieving them.
Steve Steward is a senior political science major from Lodi, Calif. He can be reached at (haoledubstyle@hotmail.com). |
Super-villainry can accommodate virtually every degree plan,
except perhaps social work. Naturally, pre-meds are perfectly suited for
this profession, what with their biology and chemistry-oriented knowledge.
Education majors are shoe-ins as well. I can think of more than a few super-villains
I've encountered during my time spent in the classroom. Super-villainry
creates a demand for fashion design, robot design, super-weapon design
and ridiculously elaborate plot-design majors. For me, I am suited for
world domination, what with my focus on international relations and all.
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