Then, in the secluded surroundings of the University of Nebraska, a sudden and unexpected rebellion broke out. Thirsty students, eager students, lost their sanity in a moment. And, as if nothing had happened, they sent the classes to hell, they ignored the authority of brainy and serious professors, they beat themselves up in the strict codes of the cloister and made a fuss. It was April 14, 1955 and the unleashed protesters interrupted pedestrian and vehicular traffic, invaded the girls’ dormitories and seized their dresses and danced passionately while chanting unusual slogans that had nothing to do with improving the quality of education, the increase in the budget or another demand of the classrooms, but with the urge to drink beer.
Inflamed Nebraskan students were not content to sip or drink that liquor at home or in crowded bars. They weren’t content with having weekends to throw overboard the boring and tedious classes and throw themselves a sovereign face. And they longed for other spaces, other areas, to do the usual health and to raise their elbows. They wanted official permission to suck even in the classrooms and during academic class hours. In the delirium of the urges of their untied throats they sought to inaugurate a colossal tavern that did not respect limits and prohibitions. And since the heads of that prestigious institution, who of course drank its waters discreetly, had opposed the beer in the Alma Mater, the students went into a courageous protest.
The student beer riot paralyzed university life, because the thirsty students were not willing to twist their arms and give up their drinking purposes. They considered that it was a fundamental right to open the bottles within the limits of that superior house of studies, to do the dry and flipped with panuda obstinacy and take until the last consequences. The authorities of that cloister felt that they were facing an earthquake and had to seek dialogue and agreement at all costs to stop a final explosion. The liquor argument was definitely important and lukewarm concessions had to be made to allow not the drinking orgy that might turn that center into a riotous bar, but rather that the hotheaded protesters had a suitable place for their occasional drinking. In this way the serious and serious University of Nebraska allowed the moderate consumption of beer among the students.
The consumption of liquor has never been alien to the university faculty. Among us, the thirsty jungle people who, to great honor and thirsty throat, occupy one of the first places in consumption of the foaming beer, the chupandanga has its history. It has, for example, professors who usually wake up in bars instead of attending classes. It also has avid students who combine lessons with drunkenness who do not despise the unusual and burning pharmacy alcohol. Liquor and cloister go hand in hand and there is never a lack of a polite toast to celebrate some academic event, a prologue to a later safe drunkenness. In the Amazonian cloisters there was never a protest for the sake of drinking beer or other liquor in the same classrooms. That calm was not due to a lack of rebellion or desire to suck in the middle of class, but to a dissuasive measure.
That measure works best and most visibly at our oldest university. So that there is no fuss and so that no one is upset, certain visionary and enterprising citizens surrounded the Unapense territory with bars. The aforementioned cloister has more taverns around it and university students, professors and students, can go from classrooms to bars without much effort and enjoy the seduction of bottles to their hearts content.
