4

OPINION

Page 4
3bie M1E11d311Ug atIn
Edited and managed by students at The University of Michigan
Vol. XCVII, No. 22 420 Maynard St.
Ann Arbor, MI 48109
Unsigned editorials represent a majority of the Daily's Editorial Board'
All other cartoons, signed articles, and letters do not necessarily represent the opinion of the Daily.

Friday, October 3, 1981

The Michigan Daily:

Nite Owl

A T LAST , THE executive
officers of the University have
approved , the majority of
recommendations put forth by
the Campus Safety Committee.
The result is a real lift for the
Nite Owl.
Started in 1969, the Nite Owl
bus service was intended to offer
students, faculty, and staff a
safe ride at night; its ef-
fectiveness has been ques-
tionable. Poor identification of
both the van and its drivers has
led to more than one woman
mistaking imposter vans for
Nite Owl. After significant
protest, the van is now equipped
with a lighted sign and drivers
must wear badges. Insufficient
advertising and promotion of the
service have left many potential
riders in the dark about where
busstops are located and when
the bus operates. Now ;posters
are being designed and plast-
ered around campus and maps
are being distributed. Though
infrequent operating times and
dimly lit busstops have created
dangerously long waiting
periods for riders, busstops are
now better lighted and soon the
van will circulate every twenty
minutes.
The University hasn't given
in to demands for another van,
but it will provide a full sized
bus for peak user periods, such
as mid term and finals week. In
the near future, Nite Owl will
service the athletic and medical
campus as well as Helen
Newberry and Betsy Barbour
dormitories.

The Campus Safety
Committee has been able to
accomplish so much largely
because it cuts across tra-
ditional areas of responsibility
by incorporating a wide range of
representatives from different
campus departments. In
addition to these members, the
committee has benefitted, as has
the entire campus, from the
work of PIRGIM and the MSA
Women's Issues Committee.
They submitted a survey based
on their experiences with the
Nite Owl in March. Even with
the support of their results the
Nite Owl's expansion has only
been approved for one year. The
committee will be responsible
for providing documentation of
increased use during that time.
Since the committee's inception
in 1984, proving to the executive
officers that there is a realistic
need for Nite Owl's expansion
has been a continual struggle.
With the recently opened
discussion of rape on campus,
the administration probably
feels less threatened by
expanding Nite Owl. Rather
than viewing such a measure as
a poor reflection of campus
security ( i.e. Why do we need to
broaden Nite Owl since there is
no real safety threat on
campus?) the administration
belatedly realizes that
recognition of existing and
potential problems is actually a
strength. With increased access
to information and an expanded
Nite Owl, the entire community
is better able to prevent assault.

B a m e
By Leslie Eringaard
and Henry Park
This is the second of a three
part series.
Crowbar suspects that there are
supernatural forces. During his
involvement with faith healing, he
claims to have witnessed a person
whose hip was crushed completely heal
and a cripple 's stunted leg grow out to
normal length.
Crowbar saw many abuses of
organized religion during his seven
years as a fundamentalist. One such
experience regarded another minister
who boarded a succession of single
women with his family. He told the
congregation that the demons within
one of these young women caused him
to reach out and touch her in an un-
godly way. This meant that the
woman had to receive exorcism.
Crowbar asserted that Christianity
relies on authority and that it doesn't
encourage people to think for
themselves. Much of the congregation
was "fucked up before they found
Jesus," Crowbar said, and would only
trust the minister.
Crowbar left the church when it split
and dozens of families left. At this
time he also got a divorce from his
wife. He claims that the work ethic
that is so pervasive in this culture was
the reason that he got married and
had children. After his divorce he lost
his kids, the house and a huge part o f
his income, which was $30,000 a year.
In 1981, Crowbar says he tried to
commit suicide. He was not
depressed he said, but just felt that
there was no reason to go on. He tried
to gas himself in the garage with his
car. Crowbar believes that he was
unconscious a long time and cannot
explain why he suddenly woke up. He
decided to walk into his house and call
for help.
After this incident, Crowbar was
depressed because he was not able to
kill himself. Since then he has never
felt 'that he would be able to kill
himself and believes that it would be a
waste of time to try.
Crowbar admitted that he now
feels that life goes on after death. He
rejects traditional views of
reincarnation, he stated quickly, but

system, not self

believes in a "life force." He suspects
that life after death may not be all
that different than life as we know it:
the lite force goes on and there are still
experiences that we must go through.
Crowbar has reaffirmed to
himself that life is worthwhile. Now
he spends much of his time
corresponding with "kindred spirits"
and traveling extensively several
times a year. Like most people,
Crowbar grapples with the purpose of
life. Several years ago he
complained that he didn't do anything
but sit around and get high with his
friends. One friend answered:
"David, there is no better thing you can
do with your life but to sit around and
get high with friends." This message
struck him profoundly. Crowbar thus
made a belated peace with the '60s drug
burnouts that partially drove him to
fundamentalism.
Individuals who criticize society
Crowbar grew up in a social
service oriented household and held
several counseling jobs through social
services, such as Open Door in
Kalamazoo, which is similar to the
Ozone House in Ann Arbor, and the
county jail. This aspect of his life
hasn't left him, he said. "People are
always crying to me about stuff" that
is going on in their lives. Similarly,
readers use the forum of Popular
Reality to cry about things they can't
control in their lives. Far from
disturbing people, as he thought it
would, Popular Reality serves to soothe
and console people in our "really
fucked up society." He claims that
society encourages everyone to blame
themselves but asserts that there are
people one can blame.
One of the most interesting features
of Popular Reality is the letters section
in which readers criticize society
instead of blaming themselves for their
alienation. "We (adherents of Popular
Reality) can all write to each other and
live through each other," Crowbar
claims. "I live through my mail a lot."
Like his magazine, which is
individualist, anti-authoritarian and
isolated: on the fringe, Crowbar
considers himself a recluse. "People
write to me and I just answer my
mail," he stated.
The Daily met Crowbar on a
Saturday evening, coming out of the
movie "Brazil." Crowbar is 36 but
seems younger than his years. He is
tall and slender with long, straight
dirty blonde hair. He was wearing
jeans, and an unstructured blazer. The
interview took place in the MUG, where

Crowbar ordered a cup of plain vanilla
ice cream, and poured Amaretto from
his own bottle over it (to create a
sundae).
Crowbar says he gets letters in
response to his papercfrom people 4i
Haiti, Chile, Greece, Yugoslavia,
Canada and Mexico, as well as
throughout the United States. He
claims to write over 3,000 words a day.'
His readers/writers are disillusioned
with all current'political systems and
find Popular Reality a needed outletfor
their energies and frustrations.
Crowbar started Popular Reality
after several friends "crabbed" at him
to start the newspaper, which he'd be'
threatening to do. He left for Oregondto
produce it in 1984 because he "didp't
want to deal with input from too mahy
sources" at that time. Contributorsato
Popular Reality include Cele'ste
Oatmeal of Ann Arbor, Richard
Molenaar of Kalamazoo, Al Ackerman
from San Antonio, Bob Black of
Boston, John Zerzan in Eugene,
Oregon, Bob McGlynn of Brooky4
and Duke D'Realo of Ann Arbor.
Before putting out Popular Reality,
Crowbar worked as a journalist i n,
Kalamazoo and contributed to various,
alternative publications, such ast
Wasted Times , the Michigan Voice
and the yippie magazine Overthrow.
He became frustrated with journalistic
writing very shortly when he realized
that he had "nothing to say that was
very much different from what othe
people had to say."
During high school in the 1960s,
Crowbar and some friends started'a
controversial newspaper called
Jailbreak. School authorities threat-
ened to suspend the student producers of
Jailbreak, but they enlisted the help of
the American Civil Liberties Unoi,
which upheld their right to publish.
Crowbar reflected that he can
believe how much times have changed
since the '60s and the '70s and
remembers that at that time there
were bombings reported daily.One sucb
bombing of a high school by Kriq
Andonian and others resulted in her
stay at the psychiatric hospital.
Crowbar said that he has seen a
thick FBI file about himself. This ;
not surprising considering that th
people who worked with him on
Jailbreak were members of the
Weather Underground, a faction of the
Students for Democratic Society (SDS)
that attempted to "bring the (Vietnam)
war home."

Eringaard is a student in the
Social Work. Park is the
Associate Opinion page editor.

School of
Daily's

Wasserman

Book ban

_-

THE CITY'S coercion of
Terry Whitman Shoultes for
operating a pornographic
bookstore is an unacceptable
attempt to limit freedom of
information by the use of zoning
laws. Government must not be
allowed to decide what sort of
information the citizens of Ann
Arbor can read.
Shoultes opened his fourth
street bookshop by
circumventing a zoning
regulation prohibiting
pornographic material in the
downtown area. Ann Arbor
has since rezoned against
pornographic material in its
attempt to control public acess to
media.
In the name of "cleaning up
the neighborhood" this ban on
pornography empowers a
majority to censor any material
it finds offensive. Some
pornographic publications print
contemporary fiction and
political interviews, information
which might not be found in
another public forum.
The distress of some
individuals is not a valid
justification for banning a
publication or bookstore. A
better solution for those who find

pornography abhorrent is to
boycott the stores. which vend it.
This method successfully
convinced 7-11 stores in
California to remove
pornography from the shelves.
In Ann Arbor, a notorious
billboard that featured a
beautiful woman in a black
velvet dress was the object of
repeated protest and talk of
boycotting the whiskey Black
Velvet. Last year the billboard
read "Feel the Velvet," but
thanks to community efforts it
now reads less offensively.
Censorship through zoning
laws is equivalent to
bookburning. If information is
only available where people
cannot get it (outside of Ann
Arbor), then it is gone. By
employing this kind of
technique, the city could order
out "offensive" political or
religious bookstores or at least
destroy them by exiling them to
unprofitable business areas. If
an area is zoned for commercial
business, then bookstores must
be permitted to set up shop in
that area. Their subsequent
success or failure depends on
the action of the people. Zoning
laws against pornography must
be eliminated.

I PEoP'LEASV,- MY Dtoz FAIoP-
'I~ f~N A GANST NltRCAlJ.

B.UT OPPOSE SANCTIONS AGAINST
SOUTH AFRICA? TNCSEA-SY-

ON ?F-"P LF OF THE SOVwrUNION
o3

SOuTI1 p/NF1 CA. SUB VFM I~ TS
NIuGI6BOPS Flo G r
4,


q qw

-

LETTERS:

Students don't need a new

To the Daily:
Ironically, in his article,
"University needs a code,"
University Council Chair
Prof. Donald Rucknagel
actually demonstrates why a
code of non-academic
conduct would violate student
rights. (Daily, 10/1/86)
Rucknagel's main reason for
a code is that the formal legal
system is too severe, that the
University would "lovingly"
guide students in a code
court.
This is no reason at all
because every proposed code.
allows the use of the formal
legal system in addition to a
code court. Rucknagel's own
code proposal, the Emergency
Procedures, even requires the
use of just that system.
Rucknagel's code uses just

the often used informal
justice system of mediation
that piggybacks on that
system, depending on the
circumstances of the
individual case. The
University and now
Rucknagel want to try
students twice for the same
offense: this we call double
jeopardy. The University
wants to get its hands in the
punishment pie, hardly
"loving" guidance for
students.
In fact, students prefer that
the University not put their
private lives on their
academic records. Students
would prefer to use a free
lawyer from Student Legal
Services downtown than to be
denied one in a code court.
Students would rather risk

the fifties. Relatedly,
Rucknagel states that
students simply disagree
with faculty and
administrators who want a
code. Though there are many
faculty and administrators
who oppose the code, it is
understandable that some
faculty and admnistrators do
not fear the code as students
do: it applies only to students.
Lastly, Rucknagel's claim
that the Council's "progress"
has been deterred by the
student members of the
Council must be refuted.
This last summer, a quorum
on the Council was never
reached due to the absence of
faculty and administrators

.,COde
from Council meetingt.
Student Council member
have made substanti
progress; .they have revealed
there is no legitimate re" n
for a new code. T1h ,
Rucknagel's "progress" is"O
progress at all, merely: a
guise for pushing ; Kn
unneeded and represlite
code.
A code would violate stud6(t
rights because it would pui
students twice for the sow
behavior, does not guarate
students the rights that'4e
protected in the formal legal
system, and would be 'n
intrusion into studen4'
private lives.
-SA Student Rigits
Commi44e
Octolie

TNT - - -~--