by James D. O'Reilly '34

I visited Our Lady's University last week for the West Virginia game, and I am totally sick to my stomach. This campus has gone to the wee girlie-men! Everywhere I go, crumb-covered, fruit-filled hippies, bouncing around with their skirts and pan flutes. I didn't know whether to kiss them or slap them. How the hell can we train tomorrow's leaders when we tolerate this cottony-soft crap?

I heard from my grandson Gary that they don't have mandatory 7 AM Mass anymore. Do you believe this? I spent every morning for 4 1/2 years listening to rote Latin scripture while half-asleep, and I'm a good Catholic because of it. You get those little pansy-assed, candy-coated scrawny lads into Mass each morning and you won't be seeing any crack being smoked at La-Fortune Hall, believe you me.

And one other thing, if I may, thank you please. What the hell happened to tradition? I remember the days when you couldn't walk up the front stairs of the Dome without being beaten bloody by a barrel-chested CSC. Now, you can just stride up them steps without so much as a by-your-leave and a thank you Mabel! I tell you what, you get those kids off the steps and you're on the road to nipping juvenile delinquency in the bud. IN THE BUD, DAMMIT! And one other thing, if you'll let me, oh wise and great one, you goddamn idiot. Four words, people. Just four words. The invasion of rock. I was walking in front of Dillon Hall last week enjoying my burnt steak from the Knights of Columbus and I had to cover Shirley's ears. What the hell is with you potheads, with your Deep Purple and Strawberry Alarm Clock? If you ask me, I'll take Bing Crosby and Louis Armstrong any day. I'll have you know, I'm not taking this lying down. I've filed a series of complaints with the University, the Holy Cross Priests and the Roman Catholic Church. Are you going to be strong, fighting Catholic men or gutless weasels? Make the choice now.