At about 5:40 p.m. last Friday
evening, I happened to pass by the
Memorial Gymnasium where the
Slithy Toves and others were
practicing for the big blast dance.
The music emanating from within
was enticing enough to draw me to
the open doors. What greeted my
sight, however, was altogether repulsive.
The backdrop for the
musicians was a large sign, perhaps
13′ by 14′, depicting a naked
brawd, yes brawd, with mammary
glands that would have put a
Ubangi to shame; and the message
in curvaceous, white lettering: "It's
Openings, Baby."
What in the name of aestheticism,
or is that dead too, was the
point? Perhaps the point was too
obvious and hence, crude. Nudity
in the pursuit of Beauty is no vice,
but pornography in the pursuit
of...is no virtue.
Unfortunately, the sponsors
were the ones responsible for setting
the tone of the dance. Their
total lack of good taste may have
offset for many an otherwise
pleasant evening. What was revolting
to the visual, aesthetic, not
to mention moral, sensibility, it is
my hope, was more than compensated
for by the audial, aesthetic
vibrations of the musicians.
V. C. Tucclarone
Graduate English
