Cappicade '64 Fell Flat

By Ian Grant

At least Don Quixote tilted at windmills. Cappicade 1964 lunges at empty space and, naturally enough, falls flat on its face.

The Editor, possibly after seeing his dismal lineup of contributions in print, penned an editorial as negative as everything else in his book. The first sentence reads: "Having produced this edifice, I am still somewhat uncertain as to the specific task of a Capping Magazine other than to raise money and to publicise a list of those who have obtained academic majority." Should the editor be congratulated for the only really perceptive comment in this year's magazine?

To be completely just the editor is sure of one thing. He finds the "growing tendency for sensationalism and smut" both unnecessary and harmful. Fair enough. Unfortunately he makes no effort to suggest what should be printed instead. The result is a wishy-washy, drab collection of cribbed jokes and corny sketches. It seems as if the editor was positive about one thing only—that there were 64 pages to be filled somehow or other.

I Don't Think anyone, students or general public, expects Cappicade to be really funny. Proven humorous writers, and there are very few in this country. Just don't write for Capping Magazines. But Cappicade does provide an opportunity for satire, hard-hitting social comment and serious discussions of Important subjects. It doesn't have to be funny, but it must be positively thought-provoking and pointed. And I hasten to assure the editor that pointed is not a synonym for sensational.

There was nothing thoughtprovoking or pointed about Cappicade '64. Divorce and the Indecent Publications Tribunal were the biggest game Cappicade's marksmen went after, and both escaped with nothing worse than powder burns.

One of the divorce pieces, a report of the Toad power v. Toad-power divorce case, was undoubtedly the best written contribution. But It was never more than pleasant, fireside reading.

The first two pages of an illustrated article classifying New Zealand trampers were well done, the remaining four should have been left undone.

Parlour games were for some reason popular this year. Best of a poor bunch was "The Game of Polute-o." It took several clever and many clumsy swipes at the NZ political scene, a rich source of material which was largely ignored this year.

The Thomson takeover bid for the Dominion should have provided wonderful material, but the four-page "Organ" is probably the least funny contribution this year.

The art work throughout the magazine was primitive but adequate. The best cartooning, an ingeniously drawn automatic beer pourer and alarm and reviver system, was contributed by Sam.

Had the contents of Cappicade '64 been more absorbing, the more technical production and design aspects of the magazine might have escaped notice. As it was the badly designed, oddly coloured cover and unimaginative layout were particularly obvious.