Some 1,200 undergraduates packed the debating chamber of the Oxford University Union Society to hear the titans. The resolution before the group: "That this house holds America responsible for spreading vulgarity in Western society." Chief spokesman for the affirmative: Britain's wily Gamesman Stephen Potter. Voice of the negative: rotund, orotund Orson Welles, not a whit shaken by his introduction as "the best film director-actor in the world today.'' Welles readily agreed that stereotyped U.S. culture is not easily defended: "This mass reduction of human dignity makes me sick." But he hastened to absolve the U.S. of disseminating vulgarity throughout the rest of the West: "If it fails to resist it, [Europe] must look to its own weaknesses and its own form of spiritual flabbiness. Now you are catching up with us! All Europe is drunk with the same poison!" Up stepped Gamesman Potter to tweak Uncle Sam's nose amidst general merriment. He quoted from a manual for U.S. cemetery-plot salesmen: "It's better to have a plot and no need for it than to need it and not have one." He sneered at a claim of California winegrowers that they have never had a poor vintage year. He declaimed: "The selling of sex [in the U.S.] is at the root of the trouble." But at evening's end, for all his wit, Debater Potter was over-Wellesed by a Union members' vote of 485 to 309, defeating the motion, vulgar hands across the sea and all that.

In West Germany aging (25) Dreamboat Groaner Elvis Presley, due for release from the U.S. Army in March, was promoted from specialist four (in a motor pool) to acting sergeant, but will get no pay boost (from his present $135.30 a month) until his promotion allocation is confirmed. Explained his commanding officer, a captain: "He has earned the job. We need a good man right away to do it."

In the royal palace at Rabat, Morocco's genial King Mohammed V was caught in a heartwarming domestic moment, as he fed a breakfast dainty to his dainty youngest daughter, Princess Amina, 5. Though plenty of gold and silver tableware was on hand, Mohammed ladled out the victuals with a wooden spoon.

Forcing onward on his U.S. tour (TIME, Jan. 4), Britain's doughty Conductor Sir Thomas Beecham, 80, steamed by train into Pittsburgh, hit his typical stride by riding from his Pullman sleeper to the depot on a baggage cart. After being pushed some 300 yds. (the length of eleven passenger cars) by a Pennsylvania Railroad cop and a Pittsburgh Symphony flack, Sir Thomas met the usual pack of newshounds, barked with a keen pitch for the headlines. As for the "lollipops concerts" that he planned to conduct, it would be the "soothing, soporific" music that he customarily plays for encores. Said he: "It places no strain on the mentality of the American, the Englishman, the German or anyone else. The orchestra more or less plays by itself." Do lollipops concerts strain conductors' mentalities? Smiling wispily, Sir Thomas challenged: "How many conductors have mentality?"

In a move that brought Australia closer to Britain than ever, Queen Elizabeth II granted a life barony to Down Under Minister for External Affairs Richard Gardiner Casey, 69. Baron Casey is the first life peer ever to be so elevated from outside the British Isles. If he ever comes to the Isles, Casey will be entitled to take a seat in the House of Lords. In England, meanwhile, Elizabeth, expecting her third child imminently, was the subject of a spate of delicious prattle. It seems that lightweight Novelist Barbara (Love Is the Enemy) Cartland had visited the exclusive Mayfair beauty salon of Mrs. Elizabeth Forsythe, who also enjoys the Queen's custom. Barbara told a group of housewives "in confidence" (during a lecture entitled "You Can Be Beautiful") what Mrs. Forsythe had told her: "The Queen is having a special facial just before her new baby is born, and will have one directly afterwards." It took all of 24 hours for this tiding to saturate London, where Elizabeth returned last week to await the royal event at Buckingham Palace.

It's never too late to amend the record, and last week Eastern Air Lines' Board Chairman Eddie Rickenbacker, 69, found himself one up on some old military history. As the No. 1 U.S. flying ace of World War I, Medal-of-Honorman Rickenbacker has long been credited with an official bag of 21 German planes, four balloons. Last week the Air Force, acting on a claim submitted by Captain Eddie last year, affirmed that on May 7, 1918, not too high over France, he had indeed gunned down his 22nd enemy aircraft. He had not got credit for this kill because of "post-Armistice confusion and unavailability of witnesses."

Bouncing into Washington for a Democratic National Committee palaver, Harry Truman spoke more candidly about Dwight D. Eisenhower than he has done in the seven years since Ike succeeded him in the White House. Plain-talked Harry: "I've always been fond of Ike, as you'll find when my book [Mr. Citizen'] comes out, but I'm so happy he had to fire Sherman Adams and go to work."

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