St Fidelis Seminary - Skullcap Yearbook (Herman, PA)

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LQ7l1e gidelianj AN AMERICAN FAD - REGIS WALTER A fad in music has swept over America but the blue-bloods in the world of music have retaliated with violent criticism. Music is an art having live organizing factors which swing distorts, sometimes to such a degree that they can hardly be recognized. Rhythm is the one factor that receives the greatest mutilation. It should be a symmetrical movement, but as presented in swing, it has anything but the beauty of symmetry. In the basic rhythm of music, each measure has a major accent, sometimes lighter accents, and notes with no accent. Syncopation is the factor that distorts basic rhythm. Master composers have used it with moderation to great effect. Swing uses it almost constantly! With true rhythm, great composers have produced works which can create a vivid mental picture of almost any mood of life or nature. From the ordinary jive piece, the only picture which can possibly be formed is turmoil. Melody is ruined by breaks in which an individual player is at liberty to create as he plays. The saxaphone, trombone or trumpet takes the floor as he feels emotionally stirred to originate his own interpolation. Taking swing as it is ex- plained, one can never hear the same piece played twice identically. The soul-touching, almost magical effects of pure harmony are thrown away for dissonant chords. Sometimes two keys are used to produce a decided discord. Muting of the brass instruments creates abnormal sounds, realistically imitating unmusical noises. A final glance at swing reveals that it has no form, because the instrumentalists play what they want when they get that emotional stir. If a structure has no walls, it is no house, and if dough has not been baked, it is not bread. There are basic requirements in every art and craft. Distorted rhythm, melody, form, harmony and tone color can, at most, give us only half-baked music. i 1 fl. if iligi, POLISHING THE MAPLE ALL POLISHED UP

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Lglie Qliclelianj that the Martians, if there be any, are an extremely rugged race. However, the consensus of opinion among astronomers has it that life on Mars, if existent, is almost extinct and is of the lowest nature. It is compared to our own planet perhaps some thousand million years from now. Possibly the best hypothesis thus far advanced, and accepted by most astronomers, for the birth of our own planetary system is that of Russell and Lyttleton of Princeton. They claim that millions of years ago another star came too close to our own star, the sung and, by its overwhelming gravitational pull, raised a great tidal protuberance on the sun, which became larger and larger until a tremendous amount of matter was drawn out. As the stranger star passed on its way, the tidal wave on the sun subsidedg but the matter drawn out condensed into embryonic planets, and grew larger by the infall of planetesimals and meteors. Further disturbances between the planets account for the formation of the satellites, and the mutual attraction of the planets altered their orbits into their present condition. Stars, however, are so extremely far apart that the above incident rarely happens. Calculations suggest that it may occur once in every 5,000 million years. Therefore we may conclude that planetary systems are not the rule, but rather the exception. In short, it seems that in any planetary system, the conditions necessary for life must be nearly perfect. If the planet is too near its parent sun, the temperature will be too high for life to exist 5 if it is too far away, the temperature will be too cold. If it is smaller than our Earth, it will lose its atmosphere 5 if it is larger, it will keep too much and be poisonous. Finally, let me state that there is no absolute evidence whether for or against life on other worlds. But one fact is certain. The conditions favorable to life seem to be so exacting and complicated that the possibility at the most is very slight. And why should we wonder at such a design of the Creator of all things. Indeed, it should strengthen our belief all the more in a good and ever present Divine Providence. 1' M A 1.1:-rrmz Fon ME? ASTRONOMERJS HAVEN

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Lgli iclelicmj THE STORM BROKE josram-1 KLEBER To all appearances, the night of January twenty-ninth was an ordinary one, but that night will haunt my memory for many days to come. The seven o'clock study hour had passed rather quickly, for I had become engrossed in an interesting survey- ing problem. The spiritual reading before night prayer, from Fr. Cuthbert's Life of St. Francis, related the Seraphic Father's second attempt to reach the Mohammedans. Night prayer was over before I knew it. In the dormitory, I finished brushing my teeth sooner than usual. Then, having attired myself for the night, I stood for a while at my window, wondering what the weather would be on the morrow. There was a brisk wind blowing from the north which chased scattered clouds hurrying southward. And as I watched the sky the clouds seemed to stand still and the stars to move. The stars of Orion's belt seemed to be the navigation lights of a formation of bombers. The stars Betelguese and Bellatrix ahead and Rigel and its companion star behind seemed to form the lights of the bomber escort. This group seemed to be chased by the stars of Lepus, the Hare, as by a squadron of pursuit ships. Now the stars were hidden by clouds, now they emerged again, winging their way Northward. The firm tread of the prefect walking in the corridor brought me back to reality. Reluctantly I crawled under the covers. What a beautiful night thought I as I drew the covers over my shoulders. What a night for an air raid. If I were an attacking pilot. I should want just such a night as this. By heading into the wind I could blend in with the stars on account of the clouds and thus confuse the observer on the ground. Then, too, the wind would help to keep the sound of my approach from any town in mv path until too late. Rather, the sound of my motor would follow in the wake of my plane more so than if I were flying with the wind. I was off on an air raid, following a ribbon like river far below me. Now it was visible, now obscured by fog and clouds. Then, from close by came the violent ringing of the fire alarm bell and I was back in my room at St. Fidelis. I jumped from my bed and dressed hurriedly. It seemed that it took me an hour to lace my shoes. I cast a hasty glance out of my window and saw that Orion was low in the west. In the corridor I saw that about twelve students were already assembled, checking on their partners, seeing that everyone was answering the bell with more than verbiage. When that rotund, iron, ringing messenger of evil finally ceased its warnings, the seniors were all in line. After a final check to insure that no one was missing, we started for the downstairs. Everyone down in the bowling alleys, shouted Fr. Victor who met us on the second floor landing. Will Kato and Walter see to it that all the lights are out in the senior department? The rest of you check on everybody else as you enter the base- ment. When we got downstairs, several priests were already there ahead of us. We