Salient. An Organ of Student Opinion at Victoria University College, Wellington N.Z. Vol. 20, No. 12. August 15, 1957
"Little Men . . ."
"Little Men . . ."
The recent edition of "Spike" is a successful publication, and the editor is to be congratulated for his work with the magazine.
However, one particular article in the edition seems out of place. I refer to the article appearing at the beginning of the section of the magazine dealing with V.U.C. institutions, titled "The Noise of Battle." In this particular article, the author has, with no shortage of verbage, written on the activities of the Socialist and kindred bodies (the title "Communist" the writer understands is not now in vogue as it fails to impress), in our University College. Such an article, although of considerable length, has its appropriate place together with other club notes on the back pages of the magazine; unless it is of more importance than these other clubs, such as the drama club or law faculty club, which is not likely. It depicts nothing more than the rise and fall (rather heavily it seems) of the leftist clubs in the college (Ave Atque Vale).
It may be that the voice of this particular section of the University is loud, thus "the noise of battle," but it would seem a rather empty noise as the participants are unable to form a quorum at their meetings.
Leftist club notes cannot in any way justifiably fill the position of an article on political activity in the University, as the article appears to do. If the only political activity is that of one particular club, a special article on its brief history is not at all warranted. The club should write its lament as stated before at the back of the magazine where notes on other clubs may be found.
I think it distasteful to find such an article appearing with those concerned with sport in the University and Weir House, although it would be perhaps well suited for the front page of your newspaper or for a leading article in the new series of pamphlets with green covers; Left View.
Little men who handle tools,
Wage-slave and belly-laughing fools,
Mean men who try to think or who scowl at happy children in schools,
Down-trodder men who trot
To every meeting on the dot,
There to quibble and drivel rot
Until the air about them is stinking hot—
Why must they with bumptious pride,
Coaxed out by the cunning of their side,
Spout and shout the loudest and the longest
That their principles are the best by test,
Apart from some trivial unrest,
Which is not in their book of rules—
Is it that they will otherwise be forgot?
[When consulted, the author of the article referred to said: "Well, well."—Ed.]