OPINION Page 4 Sunday, February 1, 1981 The Michigan Daily Did you hear the one about the I 0 Just a few years ago, it seemed that the only jokes one would hear at parties or during study breaks were of the ethnic variety. Many of them began, "How many Polacks . . ." or "How does an Italian . ." It was not the first upsurge of the phenomenon within memory-I remem- Obliquity By Joshua Peck was in vogue: Two jokes, one at the expense oft the pope, the other savaging blacks (told just a' foot away from the irrepressible John Dean) cost him his job and his reputation, such as it was. SHORT OF psychoanalysis (a considerably longer and more expensive process), a study of humor seems to be about the best known in- dicator of secret desires and frustrations. Un- der a cloak of laughter, people are much more prone to reveal the skeletons in their psychic closets. Freud discovered this without very much trouble at all, and wrote his findings into one of his more interesting publications. The average Joe tacitly recognizes this, even without benefit of a Ph.D. in psychology. I imagine most people have had the discomfiting experience of trying to pass off 'a cutting remark about a friend as "just a joke," when both the teller and the tellee know perfectly well that the crack really did reflect some un- derlying hostility. Extremists might argue that, other than children's riddles, there simply is no such animal as "just a joke," since every humorous comment is more an expression of internal feeling or emotion than it is a vehicle of amusement. That is why liberals and other social refor- mers always get so worked up when racial and ethnic derision is enjoying an upsurge. They claim their main concern is that jocular ethnic slurs will reach the fertile minds of the ill- educated, and perhaps breed more prejudice and racial disharmony than already exists. I suspect, though, that the liberal reaction is not quite so abstractly motivated; they experience each and every Polish joke as an indication of racism in the teller. Their outrage stems not from the potential damage racial humor might do, but from the damage they see it as already having done. PSYCHOLOGY HAS another useful con- tribution to make in the argument between those who enjoy ethnic humor and those determined to quash it. Practitioners of the mental science have observed that people are most critical about faults of their own; thus, it is bound to be a chubby seven-year-old who will come up with the most imaginative epithet for the fattest kid in the class; similarly, the nastiest gay-baiter on the block is certain to be the bruiser with a painful memory of falling for his football coach in high school. In the case of the anti-joke lobby, the phenomenon takes the form of liberal guilt. A typical dialogue goes something like this: CAD: How can you tell a Polack is at a cock- fight? REFORMER: (To himself: Oh, brother, here we go again.) I give up. CAD: He's the one with'the duck. How can you tell an Italian's there? REFORMER: (What a pig.) I give up. CAD: He bets on the duck. How can you tell the Mafia's there? REFORMER: (How obnoxious.) Got me. CAD: The duck wins. REFORMER: You know, it's people like you who are keeping racial hatred and mistrust alive. Why don't you get off it, pal? NOW, I'VE HEARD quite a few exchanges like that, and I've always noticed a few in- teresting details. For one thing, the crusader always lets the "oppressor" finish his story before letting into him. Must be interested in the punchline, I guess. Furthermore, it often appears that the tone the reformer uses in admonishing his adver- sary is at least as offensive as the joke. That overreaction always makes me wonder if the reformer, just like the fat seven-year-old, hears something of himself reflected in the point of the jest; maybe the so-called liberal believes way down deep that Poles (blacks, Jews, Chicanos, Slavs) really are numbskulls as a rule, and that Italians (Germans, Protestants, Jews) really are corrupt and craf- ty. What other explanation stands for all that dull moralistic finger-waving? The terrifying truth is that all of us carry around a little nugget, at least, of racist belief. Burying it by trying to smother humorous ex- pression is no antidote-it can only boost frustrations, anxieties;and fears. Ethnic jokes provide an opportunity for us to air our little idiocies, to determine that we are not alone, and to sort out the stupid from the factual. Ethnic humor, in short, is cut-rate therapy. I ought to know; I'm a reformed reformer myself. Joshua Peck is the outgoing co-editor of the Daily's Opinion page. I ber seeing a little paperback in 1970 called The Polish Jokebook that hardly even pretended to be going abdut its business good-naturedly. The book had cartooned depictions of human ex- crement every few pages, just in case the reader missed the point of the written material. Richard Nixon's secretary of agriculture, Earl Butz, was at once a victim and per- petrator-of another period when ethnic humor Edited and managed by students at The University of Michigan Vol. XCI, No. 105 420 Maynard St. Ann Arbor, MI 48109 Editorials represent a majority opinion of the Daily's Editorial Board Weasel ,U L YOUE PARTY ! 5AY, YOU MvST gE A SORORIT' GIRT. . I COULU TELL BY THE WAY YOQI NMO 15 STICK1140OF! MY NAM15 l1 fAROLP, BOUT T Ti- W'y5 8XK AT TIE PVORM CALL ME FIESUMNr! jSN r THIAT A RIOT! ( - W(THOtJT THRgOWING &UP! P117YOUKNOW THAT IF 'Y0O LOK IN TH4E C FWUk4 FLooP-. WIPOWv~ AT' THE NAT 50i &UILPIN& YOU CAN SEE A TANK WITH4 SM ALLIGATORs IN IT? NO KIIWING ! 'f Y by Robert Lence QUICK! 5omESOPY GET ME MY VALIUM I'M GOING To HAVE A BREAKDOWN! I (~f 0 A library nightmare E TO POOR undergraduates at this university who seek a quiet place to study. Shunned at every studious sanctuary, we are poor men and women without a country. Suppose you are a typical sophomore on a typical night before a typical exam. You need a quipt space of your pwn to work--your housemates are snore concerned1 . with their partying than .your exhausting pursuit of that elusive "A." So off you trudge to the Undergraduate Library, a place you can call, uh, home. But the UGLI is filled to the magnetic book detectors with other undergraduates studying for tests. There is no place to sit; even the bathroom stalls are full. Bundling up against the winter's chill, you sprint to the nearby ,Graduate Library, puffing up your chest and tying your shoes, trying to look older-like a graduate student. But you are foiled; the desk attendant spots you for the undergraduate you are and turns you back to face the elements. You start to panic. You try the Public Health Library, but no good-they ask you at the door to name three social diseases and you can think of only two. Into the medical school Furstenberg library you bound, but you don't look like a Flexie, so they. throw you out. Art history, natural science, philosophy-you try them all. But you're a general studies student; there's no place for you at any depar- tmental library. The exam is only hours away. Where will you study? Ah ha-the Law Library. Yes, that's it-that beautiful gothic building that is so conducive to studying. You march confidently through the ornate doors, past a small sign near the entrance, and unpack your books for an evening of study. Little do you know that the sign you failed to read warned undergraduates to stay out of the sacred confines of the Law Library; that undergraduates are to use their own libraries for study. Lit- tle did you suspect that right behind you, ready to lunge, was an officer of the Law Library Police about to ap- prehend you. No, it's not a dream. The Law School Student Senate wants to ban un- dergraduates and non-law students from the Law Library. Is there no justice in the world? :! Everyone calls the Daily a "student newspaper," but the definition and the implications of that seemingly simple term have