The Michigan Review

It's Not Your Father's Farewell Column

by Benjamin Kepple

All right, listen close. I'm not going to stand here and wax poetic about the wonders of working at the Review, nor am I going to (or would, believe me) complain, a la the Daily Arts staff, how much I hate living in Michigan and how much I will enjoy spitting in the faces of Michiganders everywhere when I graduate, given that this is my final column. You deserve much better than that for bearing with me the past two and a half years ye Gods that I've written Lost In The Eighties, and as usual, I'm going to heap on the vitriol for one last, sweet column. The University of Michigan is a great school. I'll probably never look fondly upon my actual schooling here, but it is a great place to go to college. After all, it allowed me to get involved with the Review, which has allowed me to make a lot of friends and meet a lot of interesting and fun people I hope to keep in touch with. But before I go, here are some parting shots regarding:

The Michigan Student Assembly:

If there was a way to fund student groups without this bloated cadaver of inefficiency, I'd take it. Over the past four years, I've seen the mediocre of the earth pass through the chamber doors of that hideous psuedo-body politic. Sure, there have been some misguided idealists and disgruntled politicos that make it in, but they generally get disgusted and quit after a while. But who could blame them? After all, it turns the stomach to see supposedly adult human beings acting important when they are sham officers working for a sham government with enough power to swat a fly if the Administration lets them. It is even more nauseating when you see some of the measures they have passed or attempted to pass.

For example, the recent flap over MSA campaign posters. Unless you're not on e-mail or don't read the Daily, you all know the story. LSA Sophomore (in more ways than one) Dale Winling runs for MSA and exacerbates racial tension because his version of racially charged humor, as he calls it, isn't that funny to a large number of students. Personally, I think Winling has the IQ of a handball dipped in liquid nitrogen. However, this does not mean that anyone on this campus has the right to stifle his freedom of speech.

Unless, of course, you're Olga Savic. Now, on the March 31st meeting of the MSA, where "debate" took place in the hallowed chambers of this penny-ante pre-lawyers club, the Daily reported that Olga "In Student Government Forever" Savic "choked back tears" as she said the Assembly should stand strong against racism and not hide behind the "mantra" of free speech.

Well, gosh, I'm touched. Guilt is welling up from within! My hardened, conservative heart is cracking! We've got to stop hiding behind free speech and stamp out racism! Pull out the human weeds who still think this way and stomp on them and squirt them with weed poisons! The Constitution? Oh ... well, we'll just ignore that! We've got to stamp out racism! It lurks everywhere, you know! EVERYWHERE! Look! Those people over there are against affirmative action! They must be racist! We must regulate their speech and tear off their limbs and turn their skills into drinking goblets! No, wait! THERE ARE CONSERVATIVES OVER THERE! QUICK! CENSURE! SMITE! PERSECUTE!

The last thing we need is for the Michigan Student Assembly to attempt regulating anything, much less our Rights As Guaranteed By The Constitution.

Protesting:

Conservative journalist M. Stanton Evans once remarked that there was one great liberal solution: "Have a Problem? Hold a Rock Concert!" It doesn't do much of anything to actually help, but it makes everyone involved feel important and people generally soothe their consciences that way. Witness Evans' dictum in action with the Coalition to Defend Affirmative Action By Any Means Necessary (BAMN). Have a Problem? Hold a Protest! Uh oh! Is Ward Connerly coming to speak? Instead of engaging in rational dialogue intended to further explore the ramifications of affirmative action and its consequences, BAMN will scream and chant incoherently for the better part of an hor in order to shout down anyone who dares step out of line with their feeble-minded, childish ranting. You can watch as their overtaxed brains, clogged with the babblings of socialism and the products of intellectual madmen, miserably attempt to counter the well-reasoned, rational arguments of the Right when they are presented in a calm manner (again, see Connerly.)

It's pretty obvious that protesting doesn't work, and that in Today's New World, we have to convince our opponents using rational and intellectual means. This is not 1968. We are not being sent off to war here -- there is no reason to protest. When I protested the Code back in 1995 and marched into the Fleming building, I did so because I thought it would actually help. How wrong I was. What we should have done was to work at The New Propaganda Battle: inform alumni and work on a media blitz -- not rant and rave and take over the Fleming building.

Journalism:

It is the job of the media to objectively present news and information, and I've tried my best to make sure that our hard news pieces in the Review were informative and objective. I think that is why many liberal readers read us: not just because they're infuriated by our views, but because they want to know what is going on.

It is the job of the editorialist to make his point in a clear and effective manner, using every scrap of fact and wit at his disposal. It is his job to make the facts that he wants known to be known. That's why people on campus read us as well. To wrap up: everyone on campus reads the Daily. The informed student reads both the Daily and the Review.

And as a final note:

A heartfelt thanks to Jim, Mohan, and Geoff for being great Editors to work with; Aaron for the Publisher's training and Sang for taking on the job; Lee and Chris for being great Managing Editors (Evan and Matt for bearing with me); Kristina and Tom for civilizing the rest of us with the Arts section; Ben for Ye Olde Awesome WWW page; Mom and Dad for the support and love only parents could give; Eric and Dave for being the Editor's Sounding Board; Simon for being there through thick and thin; Jamie and Gonzo for putting up with me; all the Review editors who've helped with The Cause even up to today -- especially John J. Miller, Steve Angelotti, and Bryan Jendryka -- ye Gods, now I'm a former editor too; all the great folks at the Collegiate Network who were incredibly helpful and never complained once about dealing with me over three years: Tony, Thor, Christina, and especially Stan; the National Journalism Center, which had faith and helped make a dream reality -- but Mal, clothes on the floor are not staircases for roaches; all my intern friends at NJC, especially the 632 Constitution crowd: Greg (see you in Vegas, October, Horseshoe Club, 100x odds, roll the dice!), John, Simon, Matt, Mike (you can't even pass!), Derrick (you got a Pulliam, soon a Pulitzer?), and even Alex, who stole my umbrella during one of those humid downpours -- thanks for everything, guys. I couldn't have done all this without you.

Additional thanks (and an apology) to Jesse, who wanted to step in when I wouldn't let him (keep up the guitar, kid, you'll make it); Maryanne, who quoted me and quoted me fairly; Jeff Muir, the old-school Review columnist; Jeff, I tried; my extended family for their support of John's crazy son and their excitement when I got on NewsHour; James Miller for making the Daily readable at least one day out of the week; Affirmative action opponents for standing strong against affirmative action proponents who were screaming mad: both groups made great copy for me and 100 other journalists; my car, for being a running gag, even in death; and last but certainly not least, thanks to all the readers who read and laughed/cried/fumed/wrote angry letters/threatened me. Every minute was worth it.

Laborare est orare.
To work is to pray.

Oderint, dum metuant..
Let them hate me, provided they fear me.

Benjamin Kepple is, or rather, was, Editor­in­Chief of the Review. After graduation, he will be working in Los Angeles, California in journalism. No more cold winters! No more cold winters! No more cold winters! Yes! Yes! Yes! Get down! Oops. Sorry.

This article was published in the 22 April 1998 edition of The Michigan Review (Volume 16, Number 10).
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