Names make news. Last week these names made this news:

Sauntering across Korea, preceded and pursued by wolf cries from U.S. troops, Cinemactress Marilyn Monroe appeared on open-air stages in a skin-tight purple cocktail dress. She talked some and sang a bit before a microphone, but mostly she just showed off her unspoken lines. Results: stampedes of G.I.s tried to overrun cordons of military police; one amateur soldier-talent show haplessly billed ahead of Marilyn's appearance was stoned. Once, Marilyn had to take off by jeep from some 6,000 ill-disciplined troops who rushed the stage. She also discomfited MSAdministrator Harold Stassen, who made the mistake of dropping in on one U.S. division the same day Marilyn was distracting it. Muttered he: "I did not have this much competition when I ran for the presidential nomination." At Taegu Air Force Base, her last wolf-whistle stop, Marilyn was "very pleased" to find her famed nude calendar photograph pinned up in the mess hall. "I wish I could have seen more of the boys," she purred. Returning to Japan, she was briefly bussed by her groom, ex-New York Yankee Outfielder Joe DiMaggio, who somewhat obliquely announced to her: "I've found a place in Osaka that has a very good pizza."

To a rapt audience at Baltimore's Goucher College, Novelist Carson (The Member of the Wedding) McCullers streamed through her consciousness, trying to tell the strange tale of how she and Playwright Tennessee Williams converted Member into a Broadway hit one summer on Nantucket Island. "Ten's not a cook and I'm not a cook, and the house kind of went to pieces," recalled Carson in a kind of far away tone. "We ate mostly pea soup with wienies in it, I guess, and the cat had kittens on my bed. There were milk bottles and whisky bottles everywhere, and the windows were all blown off in storms and these strange cats would come in." On the play's opening night, storm-blown Carson "was so scared and so worked up I couldn't go, so I stayed home and ate spinach."

Army's outspoken Football Coach Earl ("Red") Blaik, irritated by persistent de-emphasizers of intercollegiate sports, took a flying tackle at them and their "theory of mediocrity." Said he gruffly: "They've made it so you feel there's something shameful about having a good team ... If they succeed in getting rid of football . . . they'll have Americans like the French, spending their time sitting around in sidewalk cafes, sipping drinks and eying the girls."

New York's Supreme Court moved to straighten out the troubled lives of the two sons of executed Atom Spies Julius and Ethel Rosenberg. The boys, Michael, 11, and Robert. 6. were given by the Rosenberg's defense attorney, the late Emanuel Bloch. to a Manhattan couple, Songwriter Abel (Strange Fruit) Meeropol and his wife. The Society for the Prevention of-Cruelty to Children charged that, in the hands of the Meeropols, the two orphans were ruthlessly exploited by Communist groups as fund-raising tools and propaganda sob stories. This week State Supreme Court Justice James B. M. McNally asked the children's grandmother, Mrs. Sophie Rosenberg, if she wanted the boys. In tears, she said: "That's my children. I want to take them, please." Then the judge asked her (for the record) whether she would "teach these children to hate this country." Her reply: "No, no, no!" Judge McNally awarded her temporary (presumably until her death) custody of Michael and Robert. Piped Michael: "God bless you, judge."

Peru's multi-octaved Yma Sumac, whose extraordinary voice ranges easily from a mockingbird soprano to a deep, womanly baritone, gave a concert in Manhattan's Carnegie Hall, so impressed the Herald Tribune's Composer-Critic Virgil Thomson that he wrote: "She belongs in the great houses of opera." Said Yma, who claims to be 24: "It's too late for me to do it . . . [Besides,] I make very much more money than if I sang in two cr three operas a year for the Metropolitan."

Egypt's government, busily auctioning off the confiscated assortment of treasures and junk which formerly titillated banished King Faroulc (TIME, Feb. 22), set an admission fee of $14.000 minimum for a mere look at Farouk's collection of pornography, which is not going on the block.

First to get a peek at the gallery were an American and a Briton, each of whom had bought more than $14,000 worth of Farouk's stamp collection. The American marveled: "Boy, this is certainly some collection of dirt!" Mused the Englishman: "I cannot understand why the monarch, who was surrounded by so much that was desirable, found pleasure in such obscenity." Meanwhile, four city fathers of Venice demanded that Farouk be kicked out of his Italian exile because he offends "national dignity and morality."

Cinemactor Marlon Brando, who took off from a Hollywood movie set last fortnight and landed on the couch of his Manhattan psychiatrist, was sued for $2,000,000 by 20th Century-Fox, which called him irreplaceable in his role in The Egyptian, but said that his couch time was costing the studio $10,000 a day.

Splenetic Author Philip (Tomorrow!) Wylie, 52, was tracked down by the New York Times and asked about the present state of Mom, whom Wylie branded a matriarchal reptile in his Generation of Vipers, published in 1942. Wylie, who has obviously never underestimated the power of Mom again, did some furious backpedaling: "There were 19 pages about that ... In the middle of it, I said the whole thing was a gag. I thought it was hilariously funny. When I was writing it, I'd come downstairs and read it to [my wife] Ricky, and we'd laugh 'till our sides hurt. I didn't expect to become known for the rest of my life as a woman hater. That's the first thing they'll put in my obituary--a woman hater ... I certainly was a damned odd one."

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