The attack came. In the night, as usual, because in the night America has eyes, and the enemy is blind. It came, and everybody knew it would come: the allied, the still mildly reluctant Arab countries, the Taliban, and even those poor sods who on Sept. 11 were cheering in Ramallah without knowing that in the end, somehow, they would be the ones who would pay.

Kenrick Leung
Guardian

European congressman Pierre Lellouche in an interview to the newspaper Liberation shortly after Sept. 11, said that this struggle against terrorism is not a war, but the first example of what he called the apres-guerre: the post-war. We still don't know what the rules of the apres-guerre will be, but we are seeing the first chapters unfolding, and we can try to understand something from them.

The apres-guerre does not take place between countries or between cultures, but between partially hidden networks of complex political and military alliances. As the Bush administration made very clear, conquering Afghanistan, or even forcing the creation of a friendly government is not one of the goals of this fight. The enemy, in the apres-guerre is not clearly discernible, and not easily reconcilable with simple national or cultural labels: We are fighting against Muslim terrorists but Muslims have also been most of the victims of the terrorists, who killed at least 40,000 people in Algeria, although, in the west, we knew very little about them.

This leads to the second characteristics of the apres-guerre: the constant tension between the public and the secret, in which the media play a role as important as that of the military.

This role is evident in two aspects of the conflict: the need for some clearly discernible action, and the care taken to accompany the military action with humanitarian aids.

As Secretary of State Colin Powell has repeated many times, the response of the United States is (and will be) extremely complex and spread over a wide spectrum: political, economic, humanitarian and, if necessary, militaristic. All these branches of the American response are already in place and have been working for some time. From the point of view of the information society, however, they present a terrible inconvenience: They are either long-term efforts, slowly moving through embassies and foreign offices, or are invisible, like the intelligence effort and the use of special ""commando"" troops.

The society of instant news and instant gratification needs something more. Sometimes, symbols count as much as action, and the attack of last Sunday certainly served this purpose, at least judging from the new wave of flags that appeared here and there all over San Diego.

While this flurry of symbols is somehow understandable, we must constantly ask ourselves whether it is accompanying rational analysis or taking the place of it. Is there an objective and compelling justification for bombing Afghanistan (and its public appeal is only incidental)? Or, was this spectacular military action undertaken, at least in part, because of its symbolic value?

It is a terrible notion that Afgnani civilians, already tried by more than 20 years of wars and brutal dictatorship, are sacrificing their lives on the altar of public opinion, but, alas, it is not a far-fetched scenario.

But -- and this is another quirk of the apres-guerre -- the same instantaneous world news that requires spectacular actions against an enemy, any enemy, also plays on the other side. Every action of the western coalition will be observed from the two points of view, and every civilian suffering will be reported in the most minute details.

A consequence of the media's presence is that, in the apres-guerre, a modern country must show the world that it is trying to kill as few people as possible or (since this is more a pious desire than a realizable objective) to keep the casualties as far away from the cameras as possible. This is opposed to traditional war, where one tries to kill as many enemies as possible.

The administration took great care in pointing out that, together with the bombs, airplanes would drop food on the Afghani refugees -- the apres-guerre is, at its bottom, as dirty an affair as the old fashioned war, but it is important to surround it with all the paraphernalia that are commonly associated with Hollywood movies: Only the bad guys kill the innocents.

The images of food being dropped from American planes, which the Pentagon has eagerly distributed around the world, also serve another purpose: The administration realizes that the political capital constituted by the international outrage after the events of Sept. 11 will rapidly evaporate as civilian casualties are reported, especially in countries like Pakistan, where the sentiment of identification with the Afghani people is stronger.

The bombing has already caused confirmed civilian casualties: four U.N. workers on a mission to remove land mines, and we can expect more.

It will take all the diplomacy that the administration can muster to keep the frail network supporting the action together.

In the past week, even vocal opponents of Bush, such as myself, were surprised by the restraint, the rationality and the diplomatic capacity of this administration. Now they have embarked on an operation that could constitute a positive step in the struggle against terrorism, or that could lead to a disastrous spiral of hate and terror.

This is a move without return, and the administration knows very well that it will have to face many consequences: the pledge of the terrorists to bring more terror, the growing instability of crucial Arab countries, increasing indecisiveness among the allies and, most important, the Israeli time bomb.

Never like today could a wrong move by the Israeli government aggravate the situation, and Prime Minister Ariel Sharon has shown a preoccupying tendency toward thoughtless action. Bush knows this very well, and in the last few weeks he has been tougher with the Israeli government than any administration in the recent past.

Behind all these considerations, however, is the simple truth that in the apres-guerre, as in war, the civilians will pay a terrible price, either in buildings destroyed by the blind hate of terrorists, crying their farewells into cellular phones or in nights of darkness and terror in Kabul, where nobody can hear their cries.

The other day, somebody from Switzerland asked me if I could cook. I had to laugh; I knew right away from the sarcasm in his voice that it was just his sense of humor in action.

We decided that his question fell under the category of ""things you should not ask a girl upon meeting her."" We made up that little rule, and it quickly became something of an inside joke among the people who invented it. You could always bet that a good laugh would follow.

Sometimes it's easy to forget that our cozy little university hosts so many international students. My friend, the Swiss joker, isn't alone. Only recently did I realize just how colorful our campus is, with people studying here from places such as Milan, Sao Paulo, Tokyo and Paris.

At times I feared I would scare them with all my questions and enthusiasm. I used to have a hard time holding it in. I have since learned to chill out. I didn't want to come across as another pushy, overly inquisitive American. Despite my efforts at restraint, I have happily worn my sincerity on my sleeve. By and large, the international students have been equally friendly.

I probably shouldn't worry so much. I'm just doing my job: I have conversations twice a week with people from around the world who choose to study American culture and English at UCSD. Not a bad gig, I think.

I used to joke with my friends that this job would be the closest I would get to studying abroad, at least for now. Although I have never traveled anywhere except Korea, and I know that traveling to another country would be an arguably better experience, I can still appreciate my current arrangement for its own often hilarious perks.

When is the next time I'll be able to shop at Victoria's Secret with Yoshi, a Japanese student, on my right, pretending to fit into a skimpy thong, and Nelson, a student from Brazil, on my left, asking the suspicious clerk what kind of lotion he should buy his fake girlfriend. All this is part of their sincere effort to practice English in a ""real American setting.""

These little bonuses continue to make me smile, all for a job that remains pretty simple.

I don't want to bore anyone with banality, but after four months on the job, I believe that some cliches really do hold true about foreigners. You may already know some of them, but I'll mention a couple anyway.

First, most people around the world -- or at least in Europe, South America and Asia -- are just like Americans, superficially speaking. Perhaps it's that thing about globalization and everyone looking toward America to absorb pop culture, be it through music, clothes or even thought. Most of the international students I've met really do look a lot like us.

Of course, it works both ways. America borrows -- or steals -- from other cultures all the time to spice things up. Whatever you want to call it, the exchange is there. Exceptions exist, however.

Despite the apparent homogeneity of everyone's dress, for example, each country has a style of its own, even if it's just a variation on that one ubiquitous outfit, T-shirt and jeans. Clearly, what is comfortable is often more expedient than what will simply impress, although some are successful in combining the two.

Brazilians seem to have their own flair with fashion -- especially the girls, who have no problem showing a little skin. Going from one beach culture to another, most of those I met seemed to enjoy the San Diego experience.

I also like the style of the Italians and the French. It's not exactly formal, but it's always cute. One time, Giulia from Rome showed me an impressive bracelet she made from about 1,000 safety pins. You have to love the Italians.

Something else I would always hear about was how much Europeans love to party. After experiencing firsthand the craziness of an ""international party"" -- endless smoking and alcohol included -- I can vouch for that statement, but with one exception: Parties at the UCSD's International House would be a virtual, global open house. Everyone was invited, and everyone came: Japanese, French, Swiss, Argentines, Brazilians, Chinese, Chileans, Italians, Koreans and everyone in between.

I had the unique chance to witness something truly special from my party experiences: people from all over the globe partying together. Amid all the fun, and short of grabbing everyone's hand to sing ""We Are the World,"" I would often catch myself thinking, ""This is beautiful.""

In these confusing times, when most people wonder about whom to trust and whom to hate, despite declarations of unity that remain tenuous at best, I think of what I have learned from meeting so many interesting and diverse people. The world seems to have gotten a little smaller and more personal. After putting faces on places I have only heard about or seen in movies, I have realized just how uplifting it can all be. My thoughts on the world and its people have changed oh-so slightly.

Now when I think of France, I'll think of a country girl named Anais playing Django Reinhardt on her guitar, or Emily, the only Parisian I've ever met who wouldn't touch a cigarette.

I'll remember Simone, from the only Italian city I could never remember, and how he'd always complain about wanting an American girlfriend.

I'll remember Makiko trying to teach me the Japanese word for every English word I could think of.

And finally, I'll remember Niko, from my very first class, telling me how Swiss cows are the best cows in the world.

I hope to keep the memories. More importantly, I hope I never forget that our world is still a wonderfully diverse place and that differences are always a good thing. After all, they give people something to talk about, and who couldn't like that?

The U.S. response to the tragedies of Sept. 11 is turning from shock and anger into a fanaticism that leaves no room for rational critique and analysis.

Pat Leung
Guardian

Hate crimes across the nation are only a glimpse of the emotionality that threatens to plunge the country into blind vigilantism. Everyone knows of someone who has been threatened or harassed since the attacks -- Guardian staffers, too, have suffered from the backlash -- but few seem to realize that the spirit behind the harassment is perpetuated through other, more socially acceptable means.

Everywhere you go, you can see indications of the nation's hatred for Osama bin Laden, the chief suspect in the attacks. While driving the other day, I saw a motorcyclist whose helmet read, ""Execute Osama.""

Such actions do not help us heal; they only perpetuate the ""eye for an eye"" attitude that has taken hold. Very little separates someone who sports a helmet with such a logo and someone who gets a tattoo showcasing a murdered, mutilated bin Laden -- which, by the way, is offered at the Alien Arts Tattoo Shoppe in Savannah, Ga.

There is also little difference between those passive-aggressive actions and the Sept. 15 murder of a Sikh man in Arizona who was targeted because he was wearing a turban.

The recent plethora of American flags and patriotic merchandise also indicates that misapplied fervor may cost us more than we have bargained for. I have no qualms with patriotism because I believe that now, more than ever, Americans need to come together. Unfortunately, I suspect that the ways in which patriotic imagery has been employed only alienates people from one another; it unites one group at the expense of ""outsiders.""

Witness the efforts of those of Middle Eastern and Asian descent who have tried to partake in the ceremonies to mourn the dead, but who have felt branded with hateful stares, as though they did not belong at such ceremonies. In many people's minds, unfortunately, there is a clear-cut distinction between ""us"" and ""them,"" and those on the losing side are those who are not of European descent.

The sad effect of the combined backlash and patriotic fervor, pundits fear, will be the loss of the very values that America claims to represent. When we join together in solidarity, we call on principles such as freedom and individualism to feel unified. Those people who perpetuate hate crimes in the wake of the September attacks invoke the same standards, but their actions obviously reek of anything but these sentiments.

What is more frightening is that when the anti-Middle Eastern backlash dies down, the American mindset likely will have changed, and not for the better. The events of September will continue to resonate for months and years to come. This emotionality is already unable to coexist with rational, objective thought concerning the attacks.

Though anti-war sentiment is growing in America, an overwhelming majority supports decisive and violent revenge upon the perpetrators of the attacks. A September New York Times/CBS poll discovered that 85 percent of those polled believe that the United States should take military action against those responsible for the attacks. A further 75 percent of that group of warhawks agreed that the United States should instigate military action even if many thousands of innocent civilians must be killed.

Those who object to violent retaliation risk being branded as disloyal and unpatriotic. In this way, the patriotic bond shows itself to be a double-edged sword.

Though patriotism has united millions across the country, it is clear that anybody who is perceived to step out of line will suffer the consequences. The United States lauds individualism and its upkeep at all costs, yet Americans run the risk of sacrificing that individualism on the altar of single-minded frenzy.

If the nation is to step from this ordeal with its cherished values intact, it must be willing to see that there are more sides to each story than it has so far been willing to admit. It must be willing to recognize that constructive dialogue about these events will mean attacking the things that breed comfort and laziness within us.

Americans must not shy from analyzing the media and its ability to string us along on propaganda. They must not be complacent when the news describes the attacks as ""the destruction of symbols of wealth and power."" They must dare to question what, if anything, could be so wrong with such a statement by itself.

These things are a lot to ask, but without regaining its critical eye, our nation risks falling victim to the temptations offered by indolent complacency.

There's no such thing as a true nonconformist. Even if one did exist, he couldn't last long. Every stoplight would be a disaster. Stopping at a red light would be conforming to the standards of conventional society, so the rule-breaker would be forced to ignore the light. Green lights would cause multi-car pile-ups as well, as the nonconformist would be obliged to stop traffic immediately. And that's just one intersection.

No, a true nonconformist is doomed in today's rule-filled, obligation-crazed society. Regardless, there's something to be said for going against the norm every now and then. Although nonconformists may be incompatible with the world, nonconformity is something altogether different.

Take being a punk. It's more than the mohawks and the piercings, the tattoos and the clothes. It's more than the stereotypes, the assumptions, the labels.

Despite popular opinion, we don't dress or act the way we do out of intimidation. We don't listen to the music because we want to scare people. Because being a punk is about more than the clothes or the music. It's about rebellion.

People are always so eager to accept without question. So eager to judge, to presume. And part of those assumptions and judgements always seems to involve the automatic swallowing of the superficial, as opposed to taking the time to look at people for who they are.

The vast majority of kids who would be willing to put themselves into the punk category aren't trying to scare or intimidate. They merely want to make a statement, to garner a reaction. They want to force the understanding that people are more than what they look like, and that to be accepted, to live the norm, may be safe, but it's not always best.

In some ways, it might almost be worth it. Fitting in means taking the easy way -- there's no ostracizing from peers or from adults. No staring, no snickering, no insults based on appearances alone. Such a response can come from almost any form of convention breaking: being too smart, too stupid, too fat, too short, too poor, and certainly, too punk. When going against the norm can result in almost instant discrimination, longing to conform seems understandable, even desirable.

Of course, there is a price to pay. Choosing to follow the beaten path means never knowing what might have been. It means choosing to ignore one's own individual talents and abilities. It means denying the amazing gift of individuality.

Nonconformity means being comfortable with who you are. It isn't self-esteem, and it isn't egotism. It's the ability to face a crowd of people and not back down. It takes strength and stubbornness; it takes individualism.

It takes courage not to need to fit in. It takes strength to stand up for what you believe in, to test the precedent. It's hard to fight against a crowd that believes in the conventions of society. Yet somehow, the tighter the conventions, the more people feel the need to rebel.

The spirit of punk goes beyond whether someone is Straight Edge or Ska Oy, whether they like indie or emo. At the risk of suffering backlash from the punk community itself, I'd risk the following: It's not easy being a punk. Maybe that's why we come across as defensive and confrontational. Maybe that's why we're so eager to fit the constraints of being labeled as lost causes and outsiders.

Granted, there are those who wouldn't recognize themselves as trying to make some grand, wide-sweeping statement. But if there's one thing that all punks have in common, it's the joy of being different. Nonconforming is difficult, but it can be a lot of fun.

The decision to conform can shape a life. It can quite definitely define someone's personality and future.

The choice between being the same and being different goes beyond clothes, cars or cliques. It's more than the superficial signs of what people wear or what kind of music they listen to or what they seem to be. It's the conscious decision to take the time to look at people for who they are, not what they are. It's never easy.

Breaking the standard rules of convention means going against the majority. But in the end, it's the difference between being an individual and being just like everyone else. And being an individual -- being a punk -- is what nonconformity is all about.

""Safe"" and ""Washington, D.C."" These are terms that are not usually used in the same sentence when attempting to describe our nation's capital.

Instead, images of missing interns, serial killers, the uncontrollable crime and violence rates are immediately conjured.

When I arrived in Washington on Aug.25 I had been warned by everyone I knew about the outrageous crime rate there. I was never to walk alone or go out after dark unless I was in a large group.

So, I was on guard. But then the worst occurred: Nothing happened. I had built up this horrible, violent, crime-ridden image of Washington, and nothing I saw matched up to it.

The streets in view of the Capitol were clean, bustling with people and businesses and bars open at all hours of the day and night. The streets were under constant patrol by four separate police departments: the Capitol police, Metro Transit police and Metropolitan police along with the Secret Service.

Life on Capitol Hill seemed perfect: The immediate world in which I walked, ate and shopped was completely safe.

I was lulled into a false sense of safety and security. This illusion was shattered last Friday night when my friend was brutally mugged. A man jumped her from behind, slammed her face-first into the concrete sidewalk, grabbed her purse and ran.

My friend's mugging was a wake up call because it occurred in one of the purported ""safe"" areas of Washington.

How it works in Washington is that the closer you are to the Capitol, the safer you are, supposedly. Starting from the Capitol, Washington is broken into four quadrants: Northwest, Northeast, Southwest and Southeast.

The entire area of NW is considered the safest, since some of the ritziest areas of Dupont Circle, Georgetown and Adams Morgan all hail from that quadrant. Most of NE is considered safe, but after hitting 10th Street there is no guarantee. This is also the case with the other two quadrants, SW and SE.

The informal rule of thumb I've learned from Washington natives is that a person is relatively safe within a 10-block radius in all four quadrants. But that informal rule was blown to bits Friday night because my friend was mugged in NE Washington, within a few blocks from the Capitol.

And this past Sunday afternoon, I received an even more personal lesson in Washington Personal Safety and Crime 101. I had just finished cutting across the Capitol and began to cross the street when a white blazer suddenly swerved, made an illegal U-turn and came to a skidding halt by my side. Then the two men inside physically tried to get me in the car. But I yanked myself away and made a mad dash for the other side of the street where a Capitol police officer was standing.

That thwarted kidnapping attempt and my friend's mugging made me realize that that crime can happen anywhere, and those neat tricks we are taught about the crime and safety in Washington don't necessarily work in the real world.

Yet I do believe that there are generally safer areas in Washington than other cities. Sadly, the areas that are considered to be the least safe are in the ghettos, where there is a dramatic disparity of life from that of life on the Hill.

It is not surprising that the crime rate is, in some cases, triple the amount of crime than what occurs in the police districts closest to the Capitol. For example, according to Washington's 2000-2001 crime statistics, in district 1, which encompasses the Capitol area, there were eight homicides in June. In sharp contrast, in district 4, one of the ghetto areas, there were 27 homicides in June.

As a defense investigator intern, nearly every day when my job takes me into what is considered a ghetto area of Washington, there are some simple safety rules I've been trained to follow.

First, lock purse, valuables and legal documents in your trunk before you get to the ghetto. Second, never wave a friendly greeting to anyone in the ghetto, for waving is the signal that a person wants to score some drugs. These simple rules have protected my investigative partner and I thus far from becoming victims of violence.

Yet, the most ironic thing I've discovered is that in the areas that are the most openly crime-ridden I feel perfectly safe, while in the areas considered the safest, I do not feel nearly as safe.

I guess this little idiosyncrasy is what makes me love and hate Washington at the same time.

In the Sept. 24 issue of The Koala, there appeared a personal ad that singled out the members of a particular ethnic group and declared simply that nobody liked them. In the same issue, a satire of the UCSD Greek system was printed, naming a made-up Jewish fraternity called XKA, the members of which were called ""Chikes."" The Greek letter X, or Chi, is pronounced with a hard ""k"" sound, making the word sound like a racial slur.

Now, freedom of the press is one of the most cherished and fiercely defended tenets of the American way of life. Being a newspaper, the Guardian is very aware of the necessity of this right for the existence of freedom of expression, especially at a university where young minds should be opened through exposure to as many viewpoints as possible.

It is exactly for this reason that the Guardian cannot agree with The Koala's decision to run mock advertisements and personal ads that use hateful, racist language in their student-funded publication.

This type of material only acts to belittle people simply because of their racial backgrounds, and serves no purpose at this university. In fact, all it does is potentially make members of the UCSD community feel uncomfortable to study, work and live here.

We feel that this kind of message is stifling to the freedom of those who are made to feel hated simply because of which ethnic group they identify with, something over which they have absolutely no control. Even worse, it is the money of these individuals that is being used to fund the expression of hatred against them.

The Guardian is fully aware that The Koala is meant to be a humor publication. Much of what makes it so popular is its constant irreverence to the current standards of what is politically correct, and it achieves its humor by continually pushing this envelope. However, even if some on this campus find racism funny or amusing, that kind of humor does not belong in a student-funded publication.

The Koala states that it does not write the personals, but they certainly choose which ones to run. We hope The Koala reconsiders becoming a platform for racism at UCSD.

Watch the FOX News Channel and you will hear pundits like Sen. Zell Miller, D-Ga., proclaim that the United States needs to bomb Afghanistan, civilians be damned. Thankfully, others are discussing more responsible options.

However, sending in ground troops and carrying out blunt bombing are the options most frequently discussed. Neither option is sure to bring those responsible for the Sept. 11 attacks to justice, but both guarantee the U.S. involvement in this conflict to the point of no return. This may satisfy many by creating the impression that we will not stand for any attack on America, but it will do little to ensure that this does not occur again.

The United States needs to act for the long term, addressing the problem in Afghanistan, - the Taliban, - and the foreign policy decisions that have aided its rise to power. There is a group already fighting the Taliban, the Northern Alliance, and if the United States were to fund it we could avoid direct confrontation while diffusing some tension in Afghanistan.

The United States has entertained this idea, but those wielding the most influence seem tepid on the proposal. However, looking at the perils of the other options, funding the Northern Alliance seems less of an option than the only reasonable course of action.

To bomb Afghanistan would be to bomb a people that does not support, and is in fact being oppressed by those responsible for the terrorist actions being addressed. President Bush has said that the United States will make no distinction between terrorists and those harboring them, but one would hope that the United States will differentiate between terrorists and innocent people.

Action with ground troops would allow more selective attacks than blunt bombing, but it carries its own perils. On Saturday, a Senior Iranian cleric effectively said that Muslims would not stand to see any Muslim nation attacked. Any direct attack on Afghanistan could result in World War III: Muslim nations against NATO. Even John Ashcroft, an unlikely dissenter in the Bush cabinet, has voiced concern that retaliation would simply open the United States to more terrorism.

The Taliban shows no signs of weakening in its resolve to harbor the suspects that the United States demands, so any action in accordance with international law seems out of the question. The United States has never followed international law, anyway. But that is another story.

So we are left with the Northern Alliance.

The group, which now actually controls 5 percent of Afghanistan, has taken new ground even in the weeks since the attacks. Russia, India and Iran are all considering pledging aid to the Northern Alliance.

Democratic Rep. Brad Sherman of California advocates assisting the Northern Alliance.

""These forces have fought the Taliban to a standstill without American help,"" Sherman said. ""With our help, they could march on the ruling Afghani leaders in Kabul.""

Sherman is a member of the House International Relations Committee.

A move to sponsor a foreign military would not be unprecedented. The United States has funded and trained the Israeli armed forces since the state was formed. Ironically, that action has certainly contributed to the prevalence of anti-United States sentiment in the Middle East, even though the World Trade Center and Pentagon attacks were not a direct reaction.

After the Taliban came to power in 1996, militant resistance groups began to form. Admittedly, there has hardly been a period in post-Soviet Afghani history where rebel groups, Islamic or otherwise, have not been active.

But at the current point in time, the lines are somewhat clear. The Taliban has no mandate from the people. Civil war is continuous, but with U.S. support, a resolution could be near.

U.S. sanctions on Afghanistan have done little to help its cause. This only hurts the general population of Afghanistan, already in poverty and susceptible to anti-United States propaganda from the Taliban.

Pledging support to the Northern Alliance would swing at least some favorable public opinion toward the United States.

Of course, the ruling Islamic powers in the area would object, but it is unlikely that tension would escalate to a point where it would surely erupt, like it would if the United States were to launch an attack. The United States has a unique opportunity to protect itself and set the wheels in motion for a necessary revolution in Afghanistan.

Editor:

Reading the Monday, Sept. 24 issue of the Guardian, I was really offended by the ads for Sony Screenblast.com that were published.

Sony's advertising used photographs of attractive young men and women -- with headings that read ""Use me,"" ""Manipulate me,"" ""Share me,"" ""Enter me"" -- to market its newest product.

I found it particularly ironic that the ""share me"" one was positioned alongside an article on how pornography leads to violence against women.

Perhaps the Guardian can solicit more tasteful, less pornographic and more professional advertising in future issues?

-- Sylvia Castelluzzo

Editor:

Where is the balance?

Your news story, titled ""Illegal alien tuition bill proposed"" (Sept. 24, 2001), contains lengthy quotes about the personal philosophy of UCSD Vice Chancellor of Student Affairs Joseph Watson and interviews with two students, both of whom agree with Watson.

Polls suggest that most Californians find the idea of rewarding illegal immigration very objectionable, so your reporter should have had no trouble finding opponents to quote.

If Gov. Gray Davis signs AB-540, those who have entered our country illegally will be given benefits that U.S. citizens from other states are denied.

To allow illegal immigrants in-state tuition rates is wrong. To allow illegal immigrants access to student aid programs such as Cal Grants is wrong.

This bill is fiscally irresponsible and morally indefensible. AB-540 is a slap in the face of our legal, law-abiding citizens and the laws of our land.

Responsible journalism demands balance, and UCSD students must insist upon it.

-- L.M. Zink

Editor:

As the instructor of ""The Rhetoric of the News,"" referred to in Margaret O'Neill's editor's soapbox on media bias (Sept. 18, 2001), I was pleased to see that O'Neill is continuing to wrestle with journalistic responsibility. I would like to take issue, however, with part of the characterization of my course.

O'Neill writes that ""The instructor argued that objectivity -- the act of representation without extraneous factors -- is not possible."" While I did, in fact, argue that objectivity is not possible and that it is not even a reasonable goal for journalists, the definition of objectivity used in class was very different from the one used in this article.

For the purposes of the class, objective reporting was defined as the presentation of facts, separated from values. Because there is always an infinite set of facts to choose from, some selection process is inevitable. Journalists and editors need to decide which stories to report on, which aspects of the stories are relevant, which sources are reliable and informed, which words and photos to use, et cetera.

The decisions concerning which facts to present will inevitably be guided by some set of values: either the journalists' personal values or the more impersonal, institutional value systems of news-gathering organizations.

Objectivity, or the separation of facts and values, is therefore a theoretical impossibility. This does not mean, of course, that journalists should not strive to be fair, accurate and responsible.

-- Jonathan Markovitz

Department of Sociology

Muir College Writing Program

Editor:

In the aftermath of World War I, Europe lay in ruins. The resulting inflation, desperation and rage led to the rise of Benito Mussolini and Adolf Hitler, and ultimately to the second World War. Realizing our mistake, the United States was quick to rebuild Europe and Japan after that second war. In the process, we made longstanding friends and allies out of former enemies.

In the 1980s, the Soviet Union attacked Afghanistan. Although we were slow on the uptake, the United States finally gave material aid and training to the Afghan fighters. In the process, we trained and supported Osama bin Laden.

Against all odds, Afghanistan prevailed against the mighty Soviet army, ultimately leading to the downfall of the Soviet Union. This would certainly qualify Afghanistan as a natural ally, at the very least.

And how did we repay Afghanistan? We went away and left it in ruins, just as we did Germany after World War I. Under the circumstances, the success of the Taliban was entirely predictable. What's surprising is that the results weren't worse.

After the Soviet downfall, it would have cost us far less to rebuild Afghanistan than we're now spending on this one attack. As we learned with Germany and Japan, it would have been a small price to pay.

George Santayana said, ""Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.""

Nowhere is this more true than in Afghanistan today.

-- Peter Rowat

Associate research professor

UCSD Institute for Neural Computation

The electricity crisis, the gas shortage and the recent terrorist attacks are all important issues that I would like to discuss in a serious and thought-provoking manner. But first, I want to talk about the season premier of ""Friends.""

For the record, I would like to state that I do not watch this show because of its pop culture subject matter, or because I like to live vicariously through the relationships of overly skinny people.

When I watch ""Friends,"" I do so for its intellectual and provocative content, such as what it really means to be ""on a break."" Plus, I think Matthew Perry is kinda cute.

Anyway, as everyone and her mother knows by now, Rachel -- the ditzy blonde who isn't Phoebe -- is officially pregnant and intends to keep the baby.

But Monica, the brunette with obsessive compulsive disorder, raised an interesting question: ""How, in this day and age, could a woman possibly get pregnant by accident?"" In other words: How could you be such a dumbass?

I have always been a major fan of birth control. Even before I knew how babies were made, I was actively endorsing contraceptives at my parents' dinner parties.

No, I'm serious.

Yes, there was a time when my parents were actually real people who had real friends who liked to eat together. Those days are, of course, long gone; my parents have since transformed into Old People, who are not really members of the human race at all.

I distinctly remember one dinner party my parents had with a young couple whom we shall call ""Bob"" and ""Mary"" for the sake of anonymity (their names are really Jake and Susan).

Bob and Mary had recently gotten married and were very much in love, so my parents decided that it would be best to banish me to my bedroom so they would remain that way.

With promises of ice cream in the morning if I stayed out of the living room, I was ushered out of the presence of the two guests. But was I going to stay in my room? Hell no, not a little social butterfly like me.

So after about 10 minutes I flittered (yes, flittered) into the living room and plopped myself right smack-dab in the center of the couch, a spot that coincidentally also happened to be between Bob and Mary.

Now, I think I should take a moment here to talk about my pajamas. I may have the fashion sense of a wombat, but I know my PJs, and when I was 4 years old, I had the coolest ones in the world. They were the kind that has a zipper from your neck to your hips. Of course, the best part was that they came with the feet already attached. You just stepped into them, zipped them up and you were good to go, baby. God, those were cool.

So there I was, sitting next to Bob and Mary (whose names, keep in mind, are really Jake and Susan), with my pajama-covered feet dangling over the side of the couch. It was clear that my neighbors were very uncomfortable in my presence, especially since they were holding liquor.

But Bob, being the good sport that he was (and probably a little tipsy), decided to make the best of the situation and attempted to establish communication.

Our conversation went something like this:

Bob (gripping his wine glass like there was no tomorrow): Um, hello there.

Me (smiling adorably): Hi!

Bob (searching desperately for a conversation topic): So -- those are great pajamas you have there.

Me (so pleased he had noticed!): Yes, I know.

(At this point, I tried not to get too excited, because it was clear that Bob did not own PJs this cool, and it would be rude to flaunt mine in his face. I was a very well-mannered child.)

Me (trying to make Bob feel better about his pajamaless status): But you know, sometimes they aren't that great.

Bob (by now incredibly fascinated with me -- he wanted to adopt me, I could tell): Oh? Why is that? (He smiled at Mary -- what a wonderful father he will make, he is thinking!)

Me (leaning in close and whispering solemnly): Because sometimes, when I zip them up, the zipper gets caught in my vagina, and it really hurts.

Bob was understandably quite taken aback by this information, since he no doubt considered my PJs to be immaculate symbols of perfection.

I'd also like to think that he was rather impressed with the fact that a 4-year-old was able to use the term ""vagina"" correctly.

Bob stared at Mary in horror, who stared back in equal shock.

Then, quite suddenly, Bob and Mary had to go, due to ""prior engagements"" they had suddenly remembered.

I don't remember the details, but Bob and Mary never came over to our house for dinner again.

According to the sources of my parents, the couple never had children. For some reason, I think they just felt that they weren't ready for kids.

You see, even at the tender age of 4, I was a walking advertisement for birth control. Had Rachel realized what a tricky thing pajamas can be, I think the plot of ""Friends"" would have gone a bit differently.

So basically, I tricked you into reading this entire thing with my little introduction about ""Friends."" Let that be a lesson to you: Never trust a woman who wears pajamas with feet.

It's an apple-cheeked truism often quoted by perky people looking to cheer someone up: ""When you smile, the whole world smiles with you, but when you cry, you cry alone.""

Patrick Leung
Guardian

Such is clearly not the case for America. Over the past weeks, the ""whole world"" is sharing in our tragedy. The leaders of nearly every nation in the world have expressed their condolences for the events of Sept. 11. Indeed, the citizens of many nations are grieving with the same intensity as Americans, as if international borders matter little when people are faced with such devastating and pointless loss of life.

One would like to think that is actually the case.

Unfortunately, such politics-free concern for the well-being of others rarely materializes among Americans these days. Our country's persistent strain of isolationism has long led us to ignore many of the troubles of the rest of the world. Or, when we do get involved, we are guided more by political and economic aims than by a nationality-blind desire to assist people in need.

With all the instability in countries and regions all over the world, it is more important than ever that Americans pay attention to humanitarian disasters, and that we not only lend our sympathy and empathy, but also our help. This, to be truly effective, must be done without regard to political concerns.

Instead, our care and assistance should come from a deep respect for the intrinsic value of human life. This is something in which Americans are rich when it comes to our friends and neighbors, but which must be extended indefinitely to include everyone on this lonely blue and green island.

Every year, countries are hit hard by natural disasters: earthquakes in Turkey, mudslides in Latin America and flooding in India being some recent examples. Federal organizations such as the U.S. Agency for International Development and private donors are quick to send money and supplies to help ailing countries, which are often not developed enough to provide for adequate disaster relief on their own.

Of course, to say that American attention toward such disasters is minuscule compared to the international outpouring of love and support we have received in the last three weeks would be quite an understatement indeed. Few Americans give to organizations designed to help, and few feel a personal loss over those thousands of deaths, perhaps because they seem very far, indeed, from their own backyard. This attitude -- that the only issues deserving of attention are those that directly influence us -- is at the root of our unwillingness to make extra effort to assist those in need in far-off countries.

The issue is further complicated in situations where it is not an act of God, but political situations that create humanitarian crises. The U.S. government often finds itself torn about how to use its power and influence on the international scene. On the one hand, some argue we must promote democracy and place sanctions on nations with bad human rights records or despotic leaders. Others point out that sanctions do little to change these situations for the better, and instead demonize the countries imposing them and lead to even worse conditions.

In such debates, the desire for friendly governments wins out over humanitarian concerns. Americans would do well to re-evaluate this stance and consider the impact our decisions have on actual quality of life for people living in the countries we deny supplies and goods.

The past few years have also seen growing populations of refugees, as is now the case in Afghanistan and Pakistan.

The United Nations has estimated that the cost of aiding these refugees -- who have fled their homes believing that American bombs will soon fall over them -- will total over $600 million. Where is the fund for donations toward this effort? Is American reticence toward assisting all people negatively affected by the acts of violent extremists due to indifference? That cannot be true, because Americans have shown themselves to be generous in giving to the relief efforts on our own soil. This generosity must be extended outside our borders.

Maybe it's idealistic and naive to suggest that we should give of our great bounty to help all people in need, whether they're citizens of nations with which we agree or disagree, nations that are our allies or our enemies.

But whether it's possible or not, it should be something to which we aspire. To show the same respect to value of human life no matter race, religion, creed, ideology or nationality -- isn't that one of the central tenets of our culture? In fact, it's a major part of what makes America a great country.

We Americans have so much, and perhaps the thing we take most for granted is our security that we will not be stricken with overwhelming famine or an insurmountable natural disaster -- after all, even in New York, the quality of the engineering behind the World Trade Center held each of the towers steady for nearly an hour after the planes' respective impacts, allowing thousands to escape from the lower floors. And now, in the wake of the domestic disaster, our hospitals have the technology, supplies and staff to treat the injured; our infrastructure is strong enough to provide the services that will piece that city, and our nation, back together.

To take that for granted, to forget that the vast majority of people in the world do not have these luxuries and securities, would be a gross injustice to those people, and to ourselves.

Don't misinterpret this -- this is not a call for Americans to renounce the capitalist lifestyle we so enjoy, to sell our sport utility vehicles and fine homes and jewelry and designer clothing and send all but what we need to those at the other end of the wealth spectrum. Such a course of action is for few, and those who follow it are hailed as saints but little imitated in the West.

Instead, let us begin where we can, where we are comfortable. Americans have selflessly donated money and clothing and time to help the disaster relief in New York. What if the giving continues after the rubble is cleared on the home front?

We can help; that much is clear. Now all that is wanting is our commitment. Americans have been inspired to reach into their hearts and give condolences to the families of those affected by the attacks; we have reached into our pockets to give much-needed financial support. We have discovered the satisfaction that comes from knowing that our energies are going toward something constructive and positive. That satisfaction doesn't have to stop.

My friends tell me I'm in denial.

I tried writing something sincere and poignant about Sept. 11, but given my ignorance on worldly affairs and the fact that I'm usually insincere to begin with, failure was the only option.

So after consulting one of my best friends, I decided instead that as I embark on my fourth and final year at UCSD, I'd pause to reflect on life after college. I wanted mainly to assess all the ""exciting and promising career opportunities"" available to social science majors that I was promised access to upon my graduation.

Most summers, I aimlessly wander around until something falls in my lap. However, last year proved difficult for me, and after some soul searching I decided to try to find a job.

This time, I decided that I would have motivation and a plan of action. I'm scarcely more qualified than when I graduated from high school, so I figured some real world experience would be good for me. I'm faced with the problem of not really knowing what I want to do with my life.

My brilliantly commonplace scheme started with my application to three places: Tower Records, Barnes & Noble and Starbucks. The logic behind it was that I like four things: books, music, coffee and women. Since you can't really specialize in women, I went with the other three.

Starbucks happened to be the only place hiring, and thus the only one that interviewed me. It made up for the lack of interviews elsewhere by sheer quantity. I had three interviews at one store before being sent to a different store for another interview.

Four interviews and two stores later, I had a job. My father meets with drug representatives and the most respected members of the medical community across the nation, and he had only two interviews.

I tend to hate anything too corporate, but I feel I have enough self-loathing to deliberately seek out a job I had already planned to hate. It was either Starbucks or the Gap. A few months ago, I was making jokes about Starbucks -- now here I am, working for them.

Of course, corporate as Starbucks is, trainees had to go to a seminar called ""The Starbucks Experience."" When we had to complete a written response (and no, I'm not kidding) about our on-the-job goals, I wrote, ""To provide exemplary service in the face of adversity, sheer danger and almost certain death."" Really, would you want your barista to provide anything less? Later, I promised to give people correct change and not to pocket money from the register.

What I've discovered, contrary to the advice and guidance I've received throughout the years, is that your major doesn't amount to all that much. It certainly doesn't decide the course of your life or what you end up doing.

As long as I can remember, I've heard advisers harp on how your choice of a major will determine the rest of your life, but that's rubbish. What you end up doing may be completely different than whatever major you pick out of the course catalog.

The friend I mentioned earlier is the perfect example -- she graduated with an English major and now works at a video game company.

Employers seem to like the fact that you have a degree. They don't necessarily care what it is.

The utility of a college degree is analogous to my experience in high school gym class. It doesn't matter how good you are, just make sure you've given it some effort.

And what I'm discovering as I get closer to ending my collegiate years is that we're not supposed to have it all figured out by the time we graduate. We have as much time as it takes. What the advisers don't tell us is that after we graduate, we spend the next decade or so sorting it all out. We're not supposed to have our lives micromanaged down to the last detail while we're still in our twenties (or ever, hopefully).

As I start my senior year looking out from the counter at Starbucks, I have to repeat to myself, ""This is OK -- this is how it's supposed to be.""

I have a lot of respect for people who donate blood. They inconvenience themselves for the health of others, often without getting paid and without getting the title of ""volunteer.""

OK, so they get a free T-shirt and some orange juice, but that's nothing compared to saving someone else's life.

One of the reasons I respect blood donors so much is that I can't donate. Needles and I just don't agree.

The last time I had blood drawn, I dreaded it for days ahead of time. When I got to the hospital, my doctor decided to double the amount of tests she wanted done on my blood. There were so many little vials, I was surprised that my heart was still pumping blood through my body afterward. But the nurse sat me down, told me not to look at the needle and managed to make it relatively painless.

Although giving blood didn't hurt much, the mere idea of the blood loss got to me for a few days. If I looked at the tiny hole in the crook of my elbow or thought about the process, I would shudder to think how much of my blood had been sucked out through that itty bitty hole. It was my blood. I'm very possessive about that kind of thing. It's not the kind of thing I share with people, as I do my pens or pencils.

The problem is, I'm not the only one who feels this way. If I were, I could get used to the idea of being some kind of weirdo who didn't like needles. There are thousands of people like me.

Many who don't necessarily freak out at the sight of a hypodermic needle and who are eligible to donate just don't have the time or the inclination to do so. This is getting to be a problem in the United States because our standards for blood donation are getting higher and more people need transfusions, yet fewer people want to donate. One estimate says that the United States will need 250,000 more units of blood than people will donate this year.

There are two possible solutions. One, with which I agree, is to get more people to donate blood.

The other one, which is more complicated and will take much longer, is to find a chemical substitute for blood that can be used in operations and trauma situations. This option is currently receiving a lot of attention, probably because it will lift the burden of guilt off those of us who don't donate.

There are two fairly promising paths of research in the area of blood substitutes: plasma volume expanders and oxygen carriers. They are very lucrative fields for pharmaceutical companies, two of the major players being BioTime, Inc. and the Alliance Pharmaceutical Corp.

BioTime makes a product called Hextend, which is a chemically balanced plasma expander. Plasma expanders are based on a starch molecule that maintains blood pressure when blood is lost. They are later metabolized by the body and removed from the bloodstream.

The problem with plasma expanders is that they don't have the ability to carry oxygen to the body and if blood is lost in great quantities, the patient will still need a transfusion.

Plasma expanders can temporarily allow people with blood loss to survive without blood. If a patient undergoes surgery, blood is removed and then put back in after the operation.

Also, with the use of plasma expanders, trauma patients can be stabilized instead of needing blood immediately.

Plasma expanders are often used with hyperbaric chambers, which involve the use of pressurized oxygen to increase the level of the necessary gas in the patient's immediate environment.

Plasma expanders prolong the time before transfusion becomes necessary, but they don't reduce the need for blood donations.

Oxygen carriers, however, are able to deliver needed oxygen to the body.

Alliance Pharmaceutical makes an oxygen carrier called Oxygent, which is made of fluorocarbons. This oxygen carrier supplies oxygen to the body faster than blood itself, but it doesn't provide blood's healing and disease-fighting properties.

Oxygent is still in its testing phase. It has not been approved by the Food and Drug Administration, a process that could take years or may not even happen at all, depending on the results of the trials. It is still unknown whether it can be safely used on trauma patients. The use of this product isn't a viable option for people at present.

Where does that leave us? Back with the good old tirade about inconveniencing one person to save the life of another. If I were not so petrified of needles, I would take some time out of my routine every once in a while to donate blood -- but I'm still working on that part.

As for the rest of you eligible donors, what are you waiting for? If you're not afraid of needles, and you're free on, say, the third Sunday of every other month, go donate blood! It only takes about an hour, and according to the Red Cross' Web site, your donation can help to save the lives of up to three people.

And who knows, maybe someday you or a loved one will need a transfusion, and someone like you will come along and help out.

It can't hurt in the long run, and you'll probably get a free T-shirt out of the bargain -- a really cool T-shirt that proves you aren't a selfish bastard, in case you should ever be called upon to provide evidence.

So please, donate blood.