published Jan. 29, 1998 As one might imagine, University Register Editor-in-Chief Reid Sorenson receives countless letters every week. Many of these letters-to-the-editor are published, albeit in a revised, more amusing format. Consider, for example, a letter that was submitted by MPARG — The Minnesota Public Affairs Research Guild — last November, encouraging respect for the environment. Revised, however, the letter read as follows: “Dear editor, “I got a snake, man. One night we fed it some beer.  It was slithering this way and that. It was really freaked up, man. “Sincerely, MPARG” Other letters, however, are not published for a variety of reasons. Many of Sorenson’s letters are solicitations from pornography producers, impressed by his rumoured “special gift.” A second category of unpublished letters violates the UR’s censorship policy by stating political opinions with which the UR editors strongly disagree. In most cases, these letters disapprove of marijuana’s legalization, although they occasionally condemn LSD, heroin, and steroids, a popular drug for the outrageously buff UR staff. There exists a third genus of unprinted letters-to-the-editor, though: Letters that fall prey to spatial constraints. Normally, Sorenson makes every effort possible (possible… for a monkey, that is) to print all correspondence that arrives on his desk, but the UR’s substantial volume of cigarette coupon advertisements limits the space available for student concerns. In fact, approximately 67% of the letters submitted every week are pulled, only to resurface later as letters to “Dear Reid.” Some of these letters have included such pertinent topics as “KUMM’s Rock n’ Roll Music is Corrupting Our Youth!,” “The German Club: Poor Personal Hygiene,” and “Chancellor Dave is One Hunky Administrator.” So now, as a service to the public, the University Register is proud to print a small selection of those letters that have thusfar remained unpublished.  And the names of the actual writers have been changed to those of famous old celebrities, to protect their anonymity. Enjoy, but remember: These letters are raw and unadulterated, so the views and opinions expressed are not necessarily those of the University Register staff… unless they promote marijuana, of course. The truth is out there I’m at my wit’s end. In the past, I used to take pride in UMM traditions, such as “the UMM Year-End Hoedown,” “Catch the Cougar!,” and “99 Hours of The Can of Treet.” Lately, however, I’ve had cause to question whether this campus deserves my loyalty and allegiance. As a sports columnist, I’ve always said what I believe, unadulterated and without hesitation. Now. perhaps, I face the biggest test of my courage yet, as I confront the biggest problem yet that threatens to strangle the “breath of truth” from this campus’ ever-asphyxiated lungs. What is this problem about? It’s not about sports scholarships, the Cougar Keg, or the ever-growing prostitution problem in the Student Center. It’s much greater than this, and it extends beyond the topic of athletics that has dominated most of my editorials in the past. It’s about the truth. The only question is: Do you want the truth? You can’t handle the truth! But if you can, here it is, spelled out plainly and clearly: What would people say if a faculty member gave a glass of urine to a student, claiming that it was “Lemon Gatorade?” And the student drank it, unaware that Lemon Gatorade doesn’t normally taste so peculiar? That would be terrible for the school’s reputation. But students are unable to see the truth through the covert administrative fog. It’s funny how foggy it can be here in Morris. Especially with that high administrative dew point. Sometimes, as a reporter, you discover facts that would shock and disgust the campus community. But you can’t print them, because they might damage the school’s reputation as a great place for nerds and scholars. And this simply won’t be allowed by the campus’s authority figures. Professors, seeking to prevent the release of the truth, tell me, “You’re not Superman. Or even Mark Trail. You don’t have to save the world, man. Just eat your granola and leave well enough alone.” People in the administration and faculty choose to ignore the truth, with all of its scandals, cover-ups, and mafia connections, for fear that the truth will hurt the reputation of UMM. For that very reason, I have lost any and all remaining respect for the leaders of UMM, and I have lost control of my bowels while writing this lengthy editorial. Excuse me… I must use the bathroom. Wilford Brimley, Junior Matrats don't smell like guinea pigs I am writing in regard to the special “scratch n’ sniff” photo that was featured on page 51 of the November 31st issue of the UR, which portrayed some of our UMM wrestling matrats, with an added “guinea pig” rodent smell. The editors of this paper should be aware of the following: 1) UMM matrats are not guinea pigs. A guinea pig, according to the New Webster’s Dictionary, is “a small, tailless, short-eared South American rodent, nocturnal fast-maturing and prolific…” If the author believes that matrats smell like guinea pigs, then I would think those who have or still do wrestle would be interested in setting up a possible beating. 2) Wrestling is not to be joked about. It can defined as “a global interchange of multicultural suasory information over the period of several years throughout the world.” But this information would be incorrect. 3) Wrestlers do not stink. After a round of wrestling, it is true that their smell does not fall within the guidelines that our society accepts. But Socrates, Plato, and members of the German Club all reek pretty badly. I must say, even with various degrees and levels of education, a UMM undergrad or athletics coach can be viewed as a fool when expressing themselves with a pen or computer. Willard Scott, Head Matrats Coach Students deserve the truth Eating recently at a popular “restaurant,” I couldn’t help overhearing a conversation between several UMM faculty members. It was mostly about sex, drugs, and rock n’ roll, although the professors apparently thought themselves real brainiacs. The talk was largely “coffee talk,” about Barbra Streisand, feeling verclemped, and talking amongst themselves. But they also complained about city slickers, nerdy kids, and the gifted. (Why aren’t they in the ivy league?) They also complained about the community, the administration, and the local problem with “manure rain,” similar to acid rain but much fouler. Professors X and Y enjoy fisting, and newspaper columnists A, B, and E often drag their columns on for much too long. Of course, the official image of UMM is that it is flawless, and “gouda,” to coin a term. What is the truth? Did I just hear the tip of the iceberg? Should I end this letter now? Yes? Alright. Estelle Getty, Glenwood, Minn.