A Random Walk with Dr. Potomac

Yes, it has been too long. Too bad. Dr. Potomac has something to say today.

He is much vexed by the Intelligent Design controversy. As a Christian committed to the truth of the biblical narrative, he believes in a human anthropology rooted in the uncaused cause of God's creative action. As a political professional he has deep misgivings about the way the ID debate is playing out. Unless there's a quick change in tactics that incorporates both science and the humanities, all may well be lost for another century.

Forget about Richard Dawkins. The real problem for the ID movement is that the conservative intelligentsia is out in force against ID. George Will, Charles Krauthammer and, most recently, James Q. Wilson, have all published briefs, and fairly compelling ones at that, against ID in the biology classroom. Unless ID advocates have decided to "go it alone" against the universities, the New York Times and their own friends in media, something has to change.

Now, Dr. Potomac freely acknowledges that many of our conservative intellectuals have gaps in their reasoning concerning ID. Wilson's piece, for instance, argues that the "blind spot" embedded in the human eye is evidence against a creator -- for what all knowing God, he says, would permit such a deficiency? Dr. Potomac responds with, "Why stop there? What about cancer, hurricanes and earthquakes?" Wilson's statment seems to be not much more than a redraft of, "Why do bad things happen to good people?"

Which brings Dr. Potomac to his point. Our ID folks are earnest but weak and are locked in a cage-match with Science, by far the strongest force in Western thought. In such a fight, they will eventually be carried from the arena unconscious. To mix metaphors, in the science courtroom all the evidence is on their side, they have hand-picked the jury and the judge dines daily with prosecutor and the foreman. The process is rigged. It is a fight worth having -- if for no other purpose than to drive the Darwinist priesthood into frenzy -- but no one should be under the illusion that it can be won.

Creationists (and what a fine bit of work has been done to render that word an unspeakable embarassment!) are strongest (or at least should be)in the humanities. Despite a couple centuries of assault, denigration and obituary notices, God is, as always, cheerfully persistent about His own existance. The human heart remains tuned to eternity, and ultimate questions continue to wake us in the middle of dark nights. The moral imagination is alive and well; indeed it is both immeasurable and unquenchable. When one reads the work of Darwinists as they grapple with the uncomfortable questions of existance that arise from the imagination (the "God gene", altruism as a genetically selected behavior, ethics in general) they sound rather out of their depth, in the same way that ID advocates sound in a biology classroom. There's a weakness there, a blind-spot, as it were, in evolutionary biology. We ought to be making the most of it.

Dr. Potomac read the other day that a Kansas University professor, who regards himself as a scourge of the ID movement, proposed making a science class on ID part of the university's offerings on mythology. This gesture of contempt ought to be considered an invitation and opportunity to rethink the strategy.

O Emmanuel

O Emmanuel,
Rex et legifer noster,
expectatio gentium,
et Salvator earum:
veni ad salvandum nos,
Domine, Deus noster.


O Emmanuel,
the one awaited by the gentiles,
and their Savior:
come to save us,
Lord our God.


And with that last O Antiphon the Style Edotor departs for vacation. A blessed, joyous Christmas to all and a Happy 2006!

I have returned. In reality, I never really went away, but I've been very busy and lurking on the site, hip-hip-hooraying every time the Style Editor and O-man contribute.

Speaking of meat-pies, I love them. It has become a family joke in some ways. I mean, what's better than meat covered in buttery pastry? Maybe meat stuffed with meat (like roast turkey with a pork stuffing?), but pies will do just fine. Yesterday, as a matter of fact, I went to my favorite neighborhood market in Methuen, Mass. to pick up some gorton (Quebecois spiced meat spread, a poor man's pate), two small steak and kidney pies, and a tourtiere pie. I'm feeling my Quebec roots. no? The smell when you open the market door knocks you over. Lovely. I miss it living so far away in Indiana. [Sigh] Pastie pies are lovely too, but I find them heavier in the belly than the French pork pies. Once upon a time, the O-man insisted that pies were New England culinary culture par excellence, and I poo-pooed the idea. Now I am reconsidering...

Since I haven't blogged in such a long time, I'm tagging myself. "Tag, I'm it!"

1. I met both Dan and Marilyn Quayle. I actually met Veep Quayle at Burlington (VT) International Airport as part of the "welcoming committee" that was ushered planeside. This was back in 1991-1992.
2. People have said, at various times (and obviously under the influence of something rather potent), that I look like Bucky Showalter, Audie Murphy, and/or Nathaniel Hawthorne. Get your glasses cleaned, please.
3. I like very cold beverages. Ice cold. No warmish British beer for me.
4. The last cd I bought was Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald singing Gershwin.
5. I have never been west of the Mississippi River.

I have returned. In reality, I never really went away, but I've been very busy and lurking on the site, hip-hip-hooraying every time the Style Editor and O-man contribute.

Speaking of meat-pies, I love them. It has become a family joke in some ways. I mean, what's better than meat covered in buttery pastry? Maybe meat stuffed with meat (like roast turkey with a pork stuffing?), but pies will do just fine. Yesterday, as a matter of fact, I went to my favorite neighborhood market in Methuen, Mass. to pick up some gorton (Quebecois spiced meat spread, a poor man's pate), two small steak and kidney pies, and a tourtiere pie. I'm feeling my Quebec roots. no? The smell when you open the market door knocks you over. Lovely. I miss it living so far away in Indiana. [Sigh] Pastie pies are lovely too, but I find them heavier in the belly than the French pork pies. Once upon a time, the O-man insisted that pies were New England culinary culture par excellence, and I poo-pooed the idea. Now I am reconsidering...

Since I haven't blogged in such a long time, I'm tagging myself. "Tag, I'm it!"

1. I met both Dan and Marilyn Quayle. I actually met Veep Quayle at Burlington (VT) International Airport as part of the "welcoming committee" that was ushered planeside. This was back in 1991-1992.
2. People have said, at various times (and obviously under the influence of something rather potent), that I look like Bucky Showalter, Audie Murphy, and/or Nathaniel Hawthorne. Get your glasses cleaned, please.
3. I like very cold beverages. Ice cold. No warmish British beer for me.
4. The last cd I bought was Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald singing Gershwin.
5. I have never been west of the Mississippi River.

O Rex Gentium

O Rex Gentium,
et desideratus earum,
lapisque angularis,
qui facis utraque unum:
veni, et salva hominem,
quem de limo formasti.

O King of the Nations,
and the one they desired,
keystone,
who makes both peoples one,
come and save mankind,
whom you shaped from the mud.

Doubting Thomas

Even doubting Thomas gets his day, and it's today, December 21st.

Today's Collect:
Everliving God, who strengthened your apostle Thomas with firm and certain faith in your Son's resurrection: Grant us so perfectly and without doubt to believe in Jesus Christ, our Lord and our God, that our faith may never be found wanting in your sight; through him who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

Don't forget to bake your meat pies!

O Oriens

O Oriens,
splendor lucis aeternae,
et sol justitiae:
veni, et illumina
sedentes in tenebris,
et umbra mortis.

O Dawn,
splendor of eternal light,
and sun of justice,
come, and shine on those,
seated in darkness,
and in the shadow of death.

Bunnie Diehl has tagged me to list give random facts about myself. This is a poor choice on her part, because there is no more boring subject to give 5 random facts about oneself than I, and yet nonetheless here I am giving in to vanity for the sake of all two of our readers:

1.) My favorite Christmas video (and second favorite Christmas story) is A Child's Christmas in Wales.
2.) When in high school, I passed off my freshman English teacher as 33rd in line to the throne of England. I must confess it caused a sensation, but I was dealing with honor students there. Bright people, but not very smart.
3.) While young, I scored very high on the geek meter by writing a longish story around the Battle of Brunanburh. It was awful. (The story that is. I suppose the battle was awful too, but as it didn't exist then, the English language was not slaughtered in the battle. It certainly was in the story.)
4.) I never had my teenage rebellion. I think I'm saving it for my 40's.
5.) I can milk a cow.

As for tagging other people, I'm always the person who breaks the chain mail chain, so perhaps I 'll do it here as well, although if Singin' in DC wants to oblige, I'm sure we will all be entertained.

O Clavis David

O Clavis David,
et sceptrum domus Israël,
qui aperis, et nemo claudit,
claudis, et nemo aperuit:
veni, et educ vinctum
de domo carceris,
sedentem in tenebris,
et umbra mortis.

O Key of David,
and scepter of the house of Israel,
you open, and no one shuts,
you shut, and no one opens:
come, and lead the prisoner
from jail.
seated in darkness
and in the shadow of death.

O Radix Jesse

O Radix Jesse,
qui stas in signum populorum,
super quem continebunt reges os suum,
quem gentes deprecabuntur:
veni ad liberandum nos,
jam noli tardare

O Root of Jesse,
who stand as a sign for the people,
kings stand silent in your presence,
whom the nations will worship:
come to set us free,
put it off no longer.

O Adonai

O Adonai,
et dux domus Israël,
qui Moyse in igne flammae rubi apparuisti,
et ei in Sina legem dedisti:
veni ad redimendum nos in brachio extento.


O Mighty Lord,
and leader of the house of Israël,
who appeared to Moses in the burning bush,
and on Sinai gave him the law,
come to redeem us with outstretched arm.

O Sapientia

O Sapientia,
quae ex ore Altissimi prodiisti,
attingens a fine usque ad finem fortiter,
suaviterque disponens omnia:
veni ad docendum nos viam prudentiae.

O Wisdom,
who proceeds from the mouth of the Most High,
reaching out mightily from end to end,
and sweetly arranging all things:
come to teach us the way of prudence.

O my! O Antiphons!

December 17th is the traditional start date for the Great O Antiphons of Advent. What are the Great O Antiphons? Good question!

Let's start with what an antiphon is. An antiphon is "a refrain-like verse from Scripture that begins and concludes a psalm or canticle. Sometimes it is also interspersed within a psalm. " Or so claims the LCMS Liturgical Dictionary. The church music kids writing on Wikipedia give a more comprehensive definition, and point out that antiphon is essentially "a response, usually sung in Gregorian chant, to a psalm or some other part of a religious service, such as at Vespers or at a Mass."

The Great O Antiphons are the seven antiphons recited or chanted before and after—although such are standards these days that often they're chanted only before—the singing of the Magnificat during Vespers (Evening Service). If you want to be extra solemn about it, you can chant the antiphons 3 times, "once before the canticle and before and after the Gloria Patri." The Great O Antiphons are sung on the days leading up to Christmas, starting on the 17th of Dec and ending on the 23rd. (The liturgically inclined Roman Catholics know this as "the Octave before Christmas.") The Anglicans got it in their heads at some point to start O Antiphoning on the 16th of December, but I really can't be responsible for what the Anglicans do, can I?

No one knows how old the O Antiphons are. Apparently Boethius (c. 480-524), when he wasn't consoling himself with philosophy, mentioned them. Others say by the 8th or 9th century they were being used in worship in Rome. Still others give props to Gregory the Great. But no matter really, what is clear is that the Great O Antiphons have been part of the liturgical celebration of Advent since the early church.

There are actually divers O Antiphons, but "by the end of the Middle Ages their number had been almost universally fixed at seven, the key words of which, when reversed in order, form an acrostic that beautifully fits the Advent season: "Ero cras"-"I shall be tomorrow."" Except in England, which as an island didn't get the message from Continent in time, so they went with eight antiphons and the acrostic "vero cras", which shows you that either they weren't so hot with the Latin or with the acrostics. (This is why the Anglicans start the O Antiphons on the 16th, so they can fit their last one, "O Virgo Virginum" in on the 23rd. (I'm still not responsible for what the Anglicans do.))

And now let me quote some more from someone who sounds like he knows what he's talking about:

"The importance of “O Antiphons” is twofold: Each one highlights a title for the Messiah: O Sapientia (O Wisdom), O Adonai (O Lord), O Radix Jesse (O Root of Jesse), O Clavis David (O Key of David), O Oriens (O Rising Sun), O Rex Gentium (O King of the Nations), and O Emmanuel. Also, each one refers to the prophecy of Isaiah of the coming of the Messiah."

You think you don't know the O? Actually, you probably do. That clever clogs, John Mason Neale, popped them all into a hymn known as "O come, O come, Emmanuel." If you've ever sung that, you've sung the O Antiphons.

So there you have it: the dealio with the O. I shall post one each day, but I promise I shan't add anything beyond the scripture references. You don't need me to give thoughts on the texts O Antiphons. You do some thinking for yourself.

And so, as the monks used to say to each other: "Keep the O!" (No really they did. I'm not making that up.)



The interesting and literate bits of the above come from "The Great O Antiphons of Advent" by Carl Schalk and "What Are the ’O Antiphons’?" by Fr. William Saunders. The annoying bits are solely mine.

Clearly I'm Not Getting Through...

Last Sunday, one of my Sunday School students asked, "Do you celebrate Hanukkah or Christmas?"

The Second Vermont Republic

...which seems to be pretty much the same assortment of nuts the first one was.

If this article from the Buchanite/Libertarian/Green/Wacko part of the political spectrum doesn't bring the Doc out of his early winter hibernation, what the hell will?

Dawkins Craftier Then Dennett

So Richard Dawkins, Oxford Village Atheist, got interviewed by Beliefnet. (Heh. How he must have cringed and curled his lip at their name.) The result is all pretty much standard Dawkins' stuff: since I am a scientist, I have the priestly authority to say that you are an idiot for being religious, blah, blah. Also much use of the argumentum ad Herculeum, ie., "I'm tougher and stronger than you, wimp, because I can deal with the universe as it is." Standard stuff.

But I thought this was rather clever of the old rogue:

Is atheism the logical extension of believing in evolution?

They clearly can’t be irrevocably linked because a very large number of theologians believe in evolution. In fact, any respectable theologian of the Catholic or Anglican or any other sensible church believes in evolution. Similarly, a very large number of evolutionary scientists are also religious. My personal feeling is that understanding evolution led me to atheism.

Why is this clever? Because of this chortle-inducing episode recounted on the excellent First Things blog by Stephen Barr, professor of physics at the University of Delaware.

The philosopher Daniel Dennett visited us at the University of Delaware a few weeks ago and gave a public lecture entitled “Darwin, Meaning, Truth, and Morality"... Dennett claimed that Darwin had shredded the credibility of religion and was, indeed, the very “destroyer” of God. In the question session, philosophy professor Jeff Jordan made the following observation to Dennett, “If Darwinism is inherently atheistic, as you say, then obviously it can’t be taught in public schools.” “And why is that?” inquired Dennett, incredulous. “Because,” said Jordan, “the Supreme Court has held that the Constitution guarantees government neutrality between religion and irreligion.” Dennett, looking as if he’d been sucker-punched, leaned back against the wall, and said, after a few moments of silence, “clever.” After another silence, he came up with a reply: He had not meant to say that evolution logically entails atheism, merely that it undercuts religion.

Jeff Jordan’s question underlines how the self-appointed defenders of the scientific method are trying to have it both ways. Don’t allow religious philosophy to intrude into biology classrooms and texts, they say, for that is to soil the sacred precincts of science, which must be reserved for hypotheses that can be rigorously tested and confronted with data. The next minute they are going around claiming that anti-religious philosophy is part and parcel of the scientific viewpoint.

You see? Dawkins' doesn't let himself fall into the trap that Dennett does; but, as Barr points out, both Dawkins and Dennett want to have it both ways. Dawkins is just cleverer about it.

Barr also makes the very useful comment about the real world of academia, rather than the caricature that Dawkins and Dennett and bad journalism have created:

One of the glories of science is that people come together to do it who have all sorts of religious beliefs, philosophical views, cultural backgrounds, and political opinions. But as scientists they speak the same language. It is a wonderful fellowship. I have written research papers with colleagues (and friends) who are fierce atheists and think my Catholic beliefs are for the birds, and they know that I think their atheism is for the birds. Yet we respect each other as scientists. People like Dennett who wish to equate science with their own philosophical views (presumably out of vanity) risk doing immeasurable harm both to science itself and to its prestige. He is entitled to his philosophical opinions, but he is not entitled to claim them as the utterances of Science.

Goodness Gracious!

...as the Secretary of Defense would say, doubtless while mentally subsituting some Navy oaths he learned back when he was flying off a carrier.

The Ombudsman had literally no idea he would stir up a hornet's nest when he made some mild comments re Christmas and Megachurches. I mean, the Ombudsman is a weak violet who flinches from the brisk give-and-take over at Bunnie Diehl's. He does not have well-developed canines; he does not believe that truth is necessarily on his side because it is his side; only once in while does the Ombudsman have a right to his opinions. [Ed.-Then why the hell are you blogging? Good question! Note that I haven't been doing it much!]

So I am surprised, and I guess it is because people can't parse distinctions. Me, I am willing to blame it on email and blogging...somehow they are mediums that encourage inattention. Let me therefore say it plainly. Megachurch members are not evil...megachurch pastors are not evil. They are, even, Christian brothers and sisters of mine. That does not mean they can't do silly things, and do them for all the wrong reasons.

Look, it goes beyond the whole Christ-mas argument. (You made your point, Bunnie. Now move on, or find another argumentum ad somethingorother.) It is profoundly a question of Christian discipleship. I note that a favorite culture-war gambit this season are protests against saying "Happy Holidays" instead of "Christmas"; or protests at Target because they do not allow Salvation Army bell-ringers on their property. These protests are attempts to, I believe, make it clear that the commercial extravaganza that now begins just after Halloween is really, truly, Christian...kind of.

Well, if the best we can do for the Faith is grab hold of those enormous inflatable plastic lawn ornament snowglobes with the happy snowman inside, or the "Grinch" Holiday Special, and shout "This is about Jesus!", then count me out. I'm not interested. Wal-Mart can own that holiday season, if that's the case.

It seems to me that the best thing to do to reclaim Christmas as Christmas is to worship...

Holiday Shopping Tips!

When in doubt, there's always Che-Mart! That's where Che Guevara, "world's greatest T-shirt salesman", has many designs to suit your whim and fancy.

My favorite, I think, is "My parents paid for college tuition and all I got was this Che Guevara t-shirt".

No Church on Christmas

The wonderful Bunnie Diehl and her readers have gone off on a tear, viz., "...Megachurch People are Evil", blah, blah, blah. The Very Cheerful "Singin' in DC" at Songs for Frogshas registered what she refers to as "Liturgical Rant #1" in outrage at Megachurches. "The thing about Christmas," she cybersnarls between clenched electronic teeth, "is that it is about *Christ* and *mass*, gathering together to celebrate the birth of the infant Jesus in Bethlehem." [And, goodness, maybe "Singin'" should not only come up with a new handle (I mean to say, really) but start a Liturgical blog with Bunnie and the Style Editor...it would be like the Three Liturgical Horsewomen of the Apocalypse.]

What is the reason for this outrage? Some Megachurches, you see, are cancelling Christmas. That is, they are not having service on Sunday, December 25th, because it's...Christmas. It takes a lot of people to put on a Megachurch Extravaganza, you see. Hundreds. And on a holiday, shouldn't they be allowed to be home with their families?

Lee over at Verbum Ipsum wonders, if they aren't having services because the unchurched won't show up for Christmas, well, "'reach[ing] the unchurched' is presumably not an end in itself is it? I mean, once you've got them what do you do with them? The whole point can't be to reach the unchurched "seeker"; you have to be reaching them for something."

Well, not to be blase and cynical about it all, but colour the Ombudsman unsurprised, kids. I mean, let me flick off some dust from my impeccable Mechlin lace and 'splain things. No, "reaching the unchurched" is the telos of the Megachurch. Indeed, Megachurches are not really churches so much as they are businesses designed for the purposes of evangelism. Note comments by Willow Creek that "church leaders decided that organizing services on a Christmas Sunday would not be the most effective use of staff and volunteer resources". Effective use of staf and volunteer resources...man, if that ain't B-School Talk, what is?

My only problem with this argument is that all the other Big Box Stores will be open for business on Christmas Day! Of course they will, we have to be able to make a return! So when are the Holy Big Boxes going to realize that viability and maintainence of their Brand requires them to utilize resources for Customer Interaction on December 25th? Couldn't they at least have some people to pray with people who stop by and want their money back?

The Comedy of Life

So you're a professor at UC Berkeley. You are walking into your office. And there are a couple of students involved in the Act of Eros; they are in flagrante delicto, as those of us with a smattering of the classics would say; they are caught in the carnal clench, tupping away like sheep in the spring, as Brigadier Sir Harry Flashman, VC might put.

I mean, I wish I can make this stuff up, but I'm not clever enough. Hey, and those of us who put Doctor Curmudgeon & Co. on their Lutheran blog roll? Just hope you have a good Lutheran earthy sense of humor, OK? You, too, mother.

Also I note with chortles of pleasure and guffaws of glee a real-life "Dead Parrot Sketch", via the misfortune and frustration of Verity at Albion's Seedlings. Verity, you see, wants to move to India; and apparently they don't allow any foreigners to own land there. And they can't really believe that anyone would want to be an Indian citizen.

So that results in problems for Verity and comedy for us, don't you see?

[Ed.: What do you think of these Anglosphere chaps, anyhow? Ombud: [shiftily] Well, er, nice folk, um...[inspired] why don't you ask the Doc? They like Albion's Seed, you know. Ed.: [with a frown] Isn't that the book you have agreed not to discuss lest your friendship be ended? Ombud.: That's the one! Though, mind, he has almost convinced me of his point. That, and reading primary sources.]

Hmmm, What is This Place?

Yes, I seem to remember it...furniture very dusty. Bourbon bottles where I left them. Dishes still in the sink...Style Editor must have rushed out the door, I presume.

OK, it's good to be back.

Guinea Wop Representation Up!

The President has nominated Judge Samuel Alito of the 3rd Circuit to the Supreme Court. As conservative guinea wops from New Jersey ourselves, The Ombusdsman and I think this is an excellent choice, especially with Justice Scalia looking like he's due for a heart attack anyday (The Ombudsman suggests that perhaps on the next duck hunt, Justice Scalia asks Dick Cheney about a good cardiologist.)True, this move may drop the conservative guinea wop population of New Jersey by 33% and the Lutheran quota has been lost to the Papes (and on Reformation Day too), but we must take the the roughs with the smoothes. Overall, this is wonderful news.

The ruse of "small ball"

All through the baseball playoffs I kept hearing that the White Sox were devotees of "small ball" or "smart ball," in other words they succeeded by using bunts, sacrifices, and stolen bases. They did the little things to win, rather than swing for the fences a la Earl Weaver. And they were roundly applauded on tv and radio alike for this philosophy of play; many hoped it would harken a new era of the game, a back to the future movement opposed to the unpopular (with some) ideas of "money ball."

Seems all that was a bit overdone. According to this study, for all the talk of Chisox speed, it really didn't make that much difference. Their stolen bases added 3 runs to the total number of runs they scored all year (about 1/4 of a win) and, on top of that, they scored almost 1/2 of their runs by way of the homerun (second in all of baseball behind the Twins in that category). Which means the Chicago White Sox scored more runs and were more dependent on the homer than either the Yankees or Red Sox. So much for small ball.

Of course, not everyone agrees. Witness this writer in the Toronto Star who is dead wrong on so many levels. The stolen base canard aside, he suggests that money ball philosophy is only about OBP and not about pitching, which seems conveniently to forget that one whole chapter of the book "Money Ball" was about an undervalued pitcher named Chad Bradford that Billy Beane managed to pry away from Kenny Williams of (you guessed it) the White Sox. This writer clearly did not read the book. Where does it say that pitching is not important? Horse manure. Look for high OBP guys who walk a ton, don't strike out, and take a lot of pitches; find pitchers who don't walk a lot of guys, throw strikes, and keep the ball in the park. How radical is that?

He notes the importance of Scott Podsednik to the Chisox this year, and how the team traded away a power hitter to get the speedy leadoff man. True enough, but Podsednik was central to the White Sox because of his, ahem, OBP which if memory serves was north of .400. He helped them because of was the quintessential table setter, not because he stole bases. By the way, the White Sox led baseball in caught stealing -- think of how many extra outs they ran into because of their silly small ball tactics, taking the bat out of the hands of power hitters behind them. Why such bitterness against "Money Ball" anyway?

On a lighter baseball note, a funny little mock article about how Leo Strauss impacted the Pale Hose championship this year can be found here.

Listen Very Carefully I Will Say This Only Once

People don't like your opinion. No really it's true. There are scads of people, hordes even, who dislike your opinions. Some may even find ways of voicing displeasure with your opinions, thereby expressing their own opinions. I would hope they follow the general rules of civility when doing so, although from what I've seen of the blog world this is not always the case, but people are free to express their disapproval of your opinions. And now for the really earth shattering news: advertisers are people too. If you are a blogger blessed with advertisers, and an advertiser doesn't like what you say, that advertiser has a perfect right to withdraw advertising from your site.
This public service announcement is prompted by a a story out of Maryland. To sum it up a blogger put up what many considered an offensive reference to the Lieutenant Governor Michael Steele, a senatorial candiadte for the Sarbanes seat. An advertiser on the site, Virginia gubernatorial candidate Tim Kaine, was one of the people who found it offensive, so offensive that he withdrew his ad and thus his financial support from the site. The article in the Washington Post covers the incident and then sussed out this fascinating take on this action from other bloggers:

Other liberal bloggers defended Gilliard and took after Kaine for pulling his ad. Markos Moulitsas, editor of the blog Daily Kos, said that advertisers should expect edgy content and that Kaine's actions could threaten their editorial independence.

"I don't want bloggers to be afraid to say things because they don't want to offend an advertisers," Moulitsas said.

Oh puh-lese. No one is obligated to support you. If you modify your opinion so an advertiser stays, this is not the fault of the advertiser, but of your money loving heart. You can cook with gas, but if your advertisers can't stand the heat, they have the right to get the hell out of the kitchen. The decision to stick with gas or switch to electric is entirely up to you, however, and trying to place the responsibility for this decision on others sounds more like petulant whining than a bold declaration of intellectual freedom.

She Knows the Croaking Chorus

A big cordial blogger hello (HELLO!) to the new blog Songs for Frogs and its uberposter "Singin' in DC". The official tag reads: "A Capitol Hill reporter shares the amusing anecdotes that can't make it into news stories ... and thoughts on life, love, faith and running shoes." But those of us fortunate enough to know the zany, talented and downright HI-larious Singin' know that this is but an understatement of the matter. As the posts already up reveal, the entertainment value is high. Where else will you find comments about Senators and their hand grenades?

The Obesity "Epidemic"

We Americans are not only growing but are actually BREEDING obese pumpkins ! When will the epidemic end? And how can the Brits hope to compete against the hefty Yankees?

You know, I have never been to an opera either, not because of anti-elitism (hell, I'd go in spite just for that reason), but because the opportunity and time have not emerged. Then again, I've not been to many concerts or performances at all. I saw Chorus Line on Broadway in the late 80's (fell asleep in the warm theater), caught Phish (guy played a vacuum cleaner during a song, and virtually all the fans looked like Jesus) and Great Big Sea (in DC about 7 years ago, not bad) while in college (ungrad and grad), and, um, that's about it. A few plays here and there. Quite disgraceful, no?

Perhaps Bunnie should not read this lovely bit by Theodore Dalrymple over at the Social Affairs Unit. Baroque is superior to Rock! Imagine!

Speaking of disgraceful, there were plans to auction off the jawbone of an unknown Civil War soldier in New Hampshire, until it was pulled under public pressure. Everything has a price apparently.

A lovely commentary here by Roger Sandall. Just a taste for you,

But I don’t care if the Maya civilization did collapse. I don’t think we should shed a single retrospective tear. It might be interesting to know how or why it fell—whether from war or drought or disease or soil exhaustion—but I don’t much care about that either. Because quite frankly, as civilizations go, the Mayan civilization in Mexico didn’t amount to much.

Now I know this is a shocking thing to say. Gallery owners in New York and elsewhere will cry out indignantly about the glories of Maya art. They will show you terra cotta figurines and fine reliefs and paintings and tell splendid tales of “kings” and “nobles” and such. In deference to this view we shall gladly concede that Maya art is not uninteresting. But it is sheer romantic fantasy to mourn the passing, around 900 AD, of an aristocracy of hypersensitive native aesthetes—though anthropologists and art critics have written reams of such stuff.

Glamorous talk of “kings” and “lords” and “nobles” always sounds better than a realistic description of murderous and predatory chieftains with little but power, conquest, self-glorification, enslavement, and killing and torture on their minds. Yes: they wore spectacular feather head-dresses. Yes: they built sky-high piles of masonry. But their hands dripped blood—incessantly.

Yet another disgrace: the Beatles have been voted an icon of the 20th century over Louis Armstrong. This is right up there with those who have been memorializing that Baby Boomer bard John Lennon, whose "gifts" I simply do not understand or appreciate ... or see evidence of. I just don't get it.

Nice commentary on John Buchan right here, the greatest of the espionage writers.

Only Gassy Old Windbags Need Apply

The Nobel Prize for Literature has finally been announced, a week after the originally scheduled time, and it has gone to Harold Pinter of the UK.

I have no opinion on the Pinter. I've not read him. I know his political views, which are a dime a dozen in the literary world, but I don't know his actual work, so it may be he well deserves it. He may be the best pick ever for all I know.

But what is far more interesting than the Pinter is the possibility as reported for the past week is that the Nobel committee hesitated because it was split on giving the Prize to the Turkish novelist, Orhan Pamuk. Why? Because Pamuk has publically come out against genocide, stating that the Turkish government was responsible for genocide against the Armenians and the Kurds, a statement for which he will soon be tried.

So now with the announcement of Pinter, we see the Academy has shown it's usual courage, the courage it so boldly displayed during the Rushdie affair. The much mentioned possibility that Pamuk was too young for the award is completely specious. Much tosh is talked about how the Nobel is an award for "lifetime achievement" and at 54 Pamuk doesn't have a large enough canon (Only 7 novels. Shocking!) to justify the award. Nonsense. If you look at the history of the Nobel, it has been given many times to authors in their 50's or even YOUNGER. Gracious this author didn't publish her most impressive work until 15 years AFTER her Nobel.) But then people used to think that quality trumped quantity. Now apparently the Nobel Committee thinks that if you want to be considered, you have to be a gassy old windbag. If I were Mr. Pinter I wouldn't be very flattered.


I don't know whether Mr. Pamuk is Nobel worthy. I've never read him, and it's not my call anyway. (If it were, here would be the 2005 winner for Literature.) The point is the Committee thought Pamuk Nobel worthy but then backed away because it values politics over literature. The last courageous choice the Nobel committee made of literature over politics was in 1970. Judging from this year's actions, the committee will never be as courageous again. The only good thing about this decision for me is that it has inspired to me not only to read Pamuk, which I've never done, but to buy his books as well. I may well hate his writing, but I say the courageous should at least get some royalties.

What Bunnie hasn't told you

I offered to PAY for her opera experience and still she turned up her twitchy nose and muttered rich atavistic libertarian oaths against the elite under her carrot laced breath.

He's Irish, not stupid

The Corner at National Review is touting the bizarre rumor that U2 is holding a benefit concert for Sen. Rick Santorum's re-election campaign this Sunday in Philadelphia. I know that speed is thought essential in the hurly burly blog world, but could we pause for thought occasionally? How likely is it that Bono, who has been very careful to not align himself too closely with any political side, would commit not just himself, but his BAND for a political fundraiser for the re-election campaign of a Senator with whom he some things, but not everything in common? Next to impossible. Has The Edge no edge? Does he just knuckle his brow to the commands of Bono if Bono had in fact so commanded? I think not.

I am the rasaest of tabulas when it comes to rock music. I am not just a void of knowledge on the topic; I am a black hole. But like everyone else in DC, I have been an interested observer of Bono going through his political paces, and while I do not agree with many of his positions, what is clear is that he's a canny man. He's been careful to appeal to both sides, and while he thinks well of Santorum's former Chief of Staff, I doubt he would go out on such a political limb as to volunteer his BAND for a fundraiser. He does not strike me as a man who would throw over his mates for the sake of a tenuous political tie. ( I assume the members of the band are his mates but perhaps those with knowledge of the rock world will tell me everyone in the band hates Bono's guts, and he theirs, and it's all about him in his mind.) Bono doesn't need Santorum for his political ends--Casey would probably be just as sympathetic to his desires--but he does need his band.

As for the rumor, consider the source . Or rather don't. I know many in the conservative movement love this source, because it feeds them the kool-aid 24-7 through a 14 gauge IV, but I have found it to be notoriously unreliable. I wouldn't trust a story from it unless I established three independent confirmatory sources for the story, and there are none for this one. What is clear from the Internet is that U2 is playing that evening in Philly at part of their tour. (Get your tickets here!) I'll bet Santorum's re-election campaign has bought seats at that concert, and the reporter zonked on the heavy kool-aid spun it. Now if this is obvious to me, why can't the bright lights at National Review figure this out?

(To be fair in the 30 minutes it took me to spew this piece, The Corner did figure it out and put up the correction, but my original point stands. They should have known this story was ridiculous on its face and should also know better than to trust NewsMax. Clue in Conservative Kids!)

Scooter Support

Now that the White Soxs have swept the Red Soxs, the Pink Soxs, a new breed of hairless Corgis has been created. Before he starts building this breed, I encourage Dr. C to go see Wallace and Gromit, The Curse of the Were-Rabbit. For one thing it will cheer him up. For another, it 's a valuable lesson about mucking about with nature. I'm sure Scooter would agree.

Nobelly Done

The Style Editor interrupts her extended hiatus to congratulate the winners of the 2005 Nobel Prize for Physiology or Medicine, J. Robin Warren and Barry J. Marshall. Drs. Warren and Marshall received this well deserved honor for their discovery that ulcers are caused not by stress and diet but by a bacterium, Heliobacter pylori. The Style Editor remembers vividly the controversy that surrounded their discovery and the lengths to which Dr. Marshall went to prove the connection in the face of established thought and the contempt of his "peers." Elias A. Zerhouni, director of the National Institutes of Health, is spot on the money in saying: "I think this is a perfect example of how excellent science triumphed over conventional dogma. The prize affirms that we must keep true to our scientific principles of exploration, and continually question our assumptions." The academy, or established thought, can be a huge threat to actual science, and I am pleased that in honoring these two scientists the Nobel committee seems, at least for a moment, to recognize that.

Congratulations to two Aussie scientists who got the vibe of science. (It's the inflammation; it's Heliobacter pylori; it's the vibe.) I hope they're stoked.

Pope Benedict XVI opened his first bishop's synod today, with a full plate of issues to mull over. "A tolerance which allows God as a private opinion but which excludes Him from public life... is not tolerance but hypocrisy," the Pope said in the homily. "When man makes himself the only master of the world and master of himself, justice cannot exist." Delicious!

As usual, it is difficult to tell the difference between a Boston Globe article and one of their editorials. The two tend to blend together. Read this article on priests in the Boston Archdiocese and decide for yourself. Ugh.

I thought this was quite interesting: researchers claimed to have found the home of Homer's Odysseus. Robert Bittlestone - backed by two experts - claims the rocky island depicted in The Odyssey is part of Greek tourist destination Cephalonia. He used satellite imagery to match the area's landscape with descriptions in the poem about the return of the man behind the wooden horse of Troy.

Too bad most of the "hurricanes are examples of global warming" crowd haven't read this rather interesting article in Reason. Too much to expect, I guess. Anyhow, it dismisses the notion that big storms have anything to do with g.w. or G.W.

And this article was fascinating: British teachers using an online site have reached the conclusion that children's names are a fairly accurate indication of what kind of student they will be. You can bet the parents were outraged at this. The good names (studious and polite) are: Kate, Gregory, Sean, Charlotte, Jamie, Daniel, Lucy, Isobel, Ben, Sam, Harpreet, Imran, Asam, Alice and Joseph. The bad names (rude and disorderly) are: Bobbi-Jo, Kloe, K'tee, Kristopher, Jayne, Wayne, Charlie, Liam, Ryan.

Now, when asked to think up a list of the most violent countries in the developed world, few people come up with Scotland. But, according to the UN (admittedly a pretty bad source for anything), the Scots are commiting violent crimes at a high rate. By the way, England and Wales are #2.

The study, by the UN’s crime research institute, found that 3 per cent of Scots had been victims of assault compared with 1.2 per cent in America and just 0.1 per cent in Japan, 0.2 per cent in Italy and 0.8 per cent in Austria. In England and Wales the figure was 2.8 per cent.

And I thought gun control would solve all their problems...but apparently, in Scotland at least, there is a knife control problem. Maybe we should have registration and a waiting period on knives too.

A good looking blog, The Joy of Curmudgeonry, is on the scene. T'will be linked soon.

President James A. Garfield died on this date in 1881, the victim of assassination, leaving the White House for the inestimable Vermonter Chester Alan Arthur (right there behind Pierce, Buchanan, Fillmore, and, of course, Warren G. Harding in the heart of the Doc). Raise a glass to Garfield tonight.

And perhaps the proprietor of Zambone.com will explain to us all why he likes cows so much.

Interesting note here in the BBC, that KGB agents infiltrated the highest levels of the Indian Government in the 1970s -- "We had scores of sources throughout the Indian government," the book quotes former KGB general Oleg Kalugin as saying. "It seemed like the entire country was for sale."

Did everyone see this so-called debate between Christopher Hitchens and George Galloway on C-Span the other night? Entertaining, but, as the WSJ makes clear, was more a red meat festival for the New York leftie crowd (or perhaps I should say soy burger festival) than an actual forum. Still, Hitch held his own admirably.

Apparently there is a move afoot to change the Red Cross emblem to something "less religious." One proposal is to change the cross to a red crystal.

Who the hell is Harold Evans over at the BBC? He claims (sounding a tad like Don Quixote, methinks) that Katrina will finally wipe the last vestiges of Social Darwinism from American shores. Read, for instance:

America has long been entranced by stories of fortunes made by hard work and perseverance without help from government. More tellingly many of them come true, truer in America than anywhere else. It is just that they are not the whole story. When people fail it leaves, exposed as a raw nerve, the question of moral duty in a civilized society.

So Social Darwinism has remained in the American psyche, sometimes submerged in the current, sometimes coming to the surface like a log in a fast-flowing river. [President Grover]Cleveland's sentiments might have popped up any time in the 1980s on Ronald Reagan's teleprompter. His remark that "government is not the solution to our problem, government is the problem" was an echo of Cleveland and many presidencies thereafter.

The log came clearly into view again when turbulence in the wake of 9/11 led to the re-election of George W Bush. His instinct for low taxes and small government has been neatly encapsulated by the evangelical tax cutter Grover Norquist: "I don't want to abolish government. I simply want to reduce it to the size where I can drag it into the bathroom and drown it in the bathtub."

My judgment is that the log of Social Darwinism will disappear again under the toxic flood waters of New Orleans. The corpses floating face down in the muddy overflow from broken Mississippi levees are too shocking a sight for Americans of all classes and parties. They are too kindly a people. They will look once again for vigour and compassion in government, even at the price of higher taxes.

Apart from my amazement of his using Grover Cleveland, this is fighting paper tigers. As he readily admits, Americans are a most charitable and kindly people, itself deflating the central factor of Social Darwinism that people ought to be allowed to fail and fail hard, without much compassion and concern from the rest of us. We have the lovely mixture, which works well in a federal system, of distrust of centralized government (which has zero to do with compassion, by the way -- few things are more cold than a national bureaucracy filing paperwork and filling patronage) and individual and neighborhood acts of compassion.

We fear national incompetence -- well-established here and elsewhere over these many, many years of New Deals and Great Societies -- and embrace private initiative and the acts of those governments closest to us. When they fail, then and only then are the feds invited and welcome. Mr. Evans seeks to upend this, and make the feds welcome first on the basis of a vague, curious, and frightening "compassion in government." Governments can love us too much, and when they do they take more than give, talk more than listen, and grow at the expense of individuals and competing institutions. And soon that love is smothering, unwanted, and inescapable. This has absolutely nothing to do with Herbert Spencer, William Graham Sumner, and the host of Social Darwinists. It has everything to do with history and the track record of governments.

Yes, Bunnie, we are a bunch of derelicts, aren't we? August was vacation, but we should be back on the job now.

So.

I just love how the media is all over the President and the feds about the lateness of the hurricane response. It was late, but last I checked the first respondents in any natural disaster, and the first planners of evacuation routes, are the local and city governments, backed up by their state. 25% of New Orleans is below the poverty level, thousands do not have the automobiles to leave, and depend on local public transportation for evacuation. And yet still, Mayor Nagin screams and yells on the radio (but was quick to get some good photo ops with the President yesterday too) about late federal response. Hey, Mr. Mayor. Why are all these buses just sitting here in a flooded parking lot? Whose plans were foul? Who was unprepared?

And then they begin attacking the President about not fully funding levee reinforcement, ignoring former ACE Director Mike Parker (brilliant on CNN last night, I thought) who calmly explained that levee funding has been negligent since the LBJ Administration. And even if Bush had funded the levee reinforcements way back in 2001-2002, the current ACE Director even said it wouldn't have made much difference, and that the repairs wouldn't have been completed by now anyway.

I see that a consortium of nations is releasing 60 million barrels of oil to help the US fuel crunch, and that is admirable. I think it is also good economic policy. If gas prices remain at an average of over $3 for the rest of the year, consumers will cut back radically on spending (can you imagine what Christmas at the malls will be like? Would you like to own retail stocks right now?), and the economy will flatline. And when the US economy flatlines, it takes others around the world with it. Keeping US gas prices low is good global economics.

Here's a laugher: first the media and many pols says FEMA's late response is due in part to bureaucratic snafus, paperwork, red tape, and poor coordination. Fine, I don't disagree a bit. Then Mary Landrieu turns around and suggests creating a Cabinet-level position to coordinate disaster relief. Then another talking head on CNN yesterday said because unemployment in the Gulf States would be such a problem, perhaps we need to create a National Recovery Administration, a la the New Deal. Wait, I thought bureaucracy was the problem...

Another good one: Katrina's devastation was due to global warming. Excuse me, when hurricanes were devastating the Gulf Coast around the same time that St. Thomas Aquinas was writing the Summa, was that due to global warming too? Even the Weather Channel this week discounted the role of global warming in this disaster, and they are hardly a branch of the Republican National Committee.

David Frum has some particularly good links on the politics of Katrina over at NRO.

That should cover me for a day. O-man? Style Editor? Doc Potomac?

TO Has a Good Point!

It's sizzling hot; dogs are dying in the streets; pavement has turned to glue.

Let's talk football!

Fans of da Phil-del-phia Iggles are currently fixated on a drama involving Terrell Owens. But as the Philadelphia Inquirer puts it:

Since his dazzling Super Bowl performance, Owens has shown himself to be many things - disrespectful to Donovan McNabb, naive to the ways of Eagles fans, easily manipulated by his agent, greedy, and foolish for blowing a rare opportunity to own the notoriously fickle city of Philadelphia.

But it could be worse...he could be wacky Ricky Williams!

As for TO: shut up and play.

Things have been disgracefully quite around the place. Naturally we can make all sorts of excuses. The Doc has doubtless been taking his prize corgim (Welsh plural?) around to various dog exhibitions in the hopes that they will be Best in Show. The Style Editor has been trying out Summer Hats. Dr. Potomac has been mind-melding with Karl Rove so that there will be a Sucessor Svengali should The Architect be removed from his position. And I have been doing...well, nothing, to be honest.

This must change! It will change!

So if you have not heard of the website Iraq the Model, you should, and you really must go there to read something about the new Iraqi Constitution. Interesting stuff. It would appear that the Constitution is going to be a rather leaner document than I had suspected, for which I am grateful. But there is some disturbing stuff in there as well. Take a look.

Oh Puh-lese!

This article by Marc Fisher had precisely the opposite effect upon me than I believe it intended. It laments the poor teachers who must work summer to make ends meet. Why take dear "Lorelei Emma, a 28-year-old special-ed teacher at Columbia Elementary in Annandale, teaches summer school in the mornings, tutors, dog-sits, house-sits and drives out to Lexington each weekend to work at her family's flower shop. Even with all that, and with mom's help on her student loan and car payments, Emma lives in a small bedroom with no closet in a Fairlington house she shares with two roommates.

Last week, Emma applied for work at a Whole Foods store -- she and her teacher buddies call it "Whole Paycheck" -- "because maybe I could get a discount on groceries there."

"I love my kids, and I love teaching, but I can't afford it," Emma says. "I can't be a 30-year-old and expect my mom to keep paying for my car." With a master's degree and four years of experience, Emma makes $49,000 in the Fairfax schools. But housing and other costs in this area make seemingly decent salaries feel like poverty wages."

Cry me a river, Lorelei Emma. With 4 years experience and a JD, I got paid less than you do AND I only got 2 weeks off not a whole summer. Even in the years I was making CONSIDERABLY less than you, I managed to live quite comfortably in Arlington, socking away some retirement funds each year, going to plays and concerts, and for most of the time living on my own in a one bedroom apartment or in an apartment or a nice house (both of which had closets)with roomates. At one point until he could clunk no more, I even had a car. And what's more I am a financial idiot. My budgeting and financial restraint are definitely not what they should be. And you know what? I had and still have a great life.

So, whining teachers, shut up and get off my lawn! Not a penny more of payment or a jot of sympathy will you get out of me.

A light blogging season...

Great article here by Kathleen Parker on the wristband fad and, in her delicious phrase, "the era of competitive caring."

Like nearly everything else these days, it’s all about moi. Here’s the trick: While publicly declaring your deep concern via colored ribbons and embossed bracelets, you get to draw attention to yourself. It’s not enough to care quietly or to commit private acts of conscience. You have to erect a billboard on your forearm.

With waterfalls this really feels like a sanctuary!"

Two words to that: Oh, buh-ruuuhhhh-thah!

I am going to stop now and put my ear to the ground to catch the inevitable explosion from Bunnie Diehl.

Vote or else!

Now here's the most hysterically bad idea I've seen in a long time: compulsory democracy!

Brit Labour pol Geoffrey Hoon suggests that in order to boost election turnout (only 61% voted in the last general election) citizens who do not vote will be fined. That's right, if you choose not to vote or forget (apparently, to Hoon, there is no difference), the government will track you down with its lists and police, and fine you for a lack of civic mindedness.

Apparently, this is already in place in Australia, Austria, Belgium and Greece.

Just goes to show that there is a mightly big difference between liberalism and democracy. They are not synonymous. Somewhere, Rousseau is smiling.

French woman ordains herself

Yes, you read that correctly, woman ordains self. It looks like an Onion headline, but it is not. Rather powerful of her, I thought, being able to make oneself a Catholic priest. I thinking about ordaining myself all kinds of things, a housecat perhaps or an owl. Maybe I'll ordain today National Gin and Tonic Day. I am powerful that way too, you know. The whole thing gives new meaning to word "individualism," no?

And her "reasoning" for this is rather funny: "This is not a rupture with the Roman Catholic Church," Beney said in a statement read aloud before she boarded the boat. "If there is a rupture on my part, it is with a situation that I consider to be obsolete and unjust to women."

I figured "I" would come in there somewhere. The "I"s always know better than immemorial institutions, don't they?

And then: "We consider ourselves Catholic," Beney told AP in an earlier interview. "But we do not agree with the church law ... that says only a baptized male can be ordained as a priest."

Yes. Well. I consider myself a bird, so let's see if I can fly. Can you be a part of something yet oppose what that something stands for? Let's have some fun with this:

"I consider myself a Girl Scout ... despite the fact that I am a 78 year old man."
"I consider myself a member of the Red Sox ... even though I cannot play and am not a member of the team."
"I consider myself a student at your university ... even though you rejected my application and have barred me from campus ... I'll be holding classes off campus and will give myself your degree in four years."

Rome hardly blinked and excommunicated the lot. [Yawn] What is it that Evelyn Waugh wrote (perhaps the central meaning of the text) in Brideshead?

Sayeth Julia: "...I've always been bad. Probably I shall be bad again, punished again. But the worse I am, the more I need God. I can't shut myself out from His mercy. That is what it would mean; starting a life with you, without Him. One can only hope to see one step ahead. But I saw to-day there was one thing unforgivable -- like things in the schoolroom, so bad they are unpunishable, that only Mummy could deal with -- the bad thing I was on the point of doing, that I'm not quite bad enough to do; to set up a rival good to God's."

I know I should put this in the comments to Doc's entry but who reads the comments? We only have three people reading this blog anyway, and I want them all to know this: Mark Helprin is the greatest living writer in the English language. In his writing you hear the echo of the angels. The excitement most people have for the upcoming Harry Potter novel, I have for Freddy and Fredericka . My copy is pre-ordered, and if I had a custard store, it's the book for which I'd have a special flavor .

A wonderful profile of writer and columnist Mark Helprin in the latest Harvard Magazine. To say he's an unusual fellow with a rather amazing tale to tell is, ahem, a slight understatement. This should whet your appetite:

Helprin is a classicist. He believes in history, tradition, and eternal verities. He values aesthetic symmetries and the literary forms the centuries have passed down to us. To Helprin, the principles of modernism are fatal to art, and he has no truck with the avant-garde. “The avant-garde are frauds,” he bluntly declares. “Modern literature is all cool and detached, even though a lot of modern writers are passionate about their politics. To me, passion should be for literature, and reason and detachment for politics.

“A lot of people hate heroes,” he continues. “I was criticized for portraying people who are brave, honest, loving, intelligent. That was called weak and sentimental. People who dismiss all real emotion as sentimentality are cowards. They’re afraid to commit themselves, and so they remain ‘cool’ for the rest of their lives, until they’re dead—then they’re really cool.”

And Shelby Foote, the great narrative historian of the Civil War, died this week at age 88. I first encountered Foote's multi-volume history of the late unpleasantness while in high school. Those days, after school was completed for the day and waiting for my ride, I would wander around the library stacks looking for a book, usually history or politics, to pass the time. Foote was a revelation, and although many academics scoffed at him for being too novelistic rather than source and footnote-bound, how I wish all historians could write with such grandeur and love of their subject.

The BBC skimps on its coverage of the anniversary of Trafalgar. Next they'll be running bits suggesting the Brits issue an official apology for sinking so many Spanish and French ships. "Blair issues apology for 19th Century Naval Hegemony," perhaps, or "Brits Nix Nelson; Sorry for Oceanic Oppression, says PM." (Thanks for Englishman's Castle for the tip)

Turns out there was really was a Moonlight Graham of Field of Dreams fame. Great article in the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette.

The BBC headline read: A Catholic woman is "ordained" in a secret ceremony in Europe. More correct, it should have read: A "Catholic" woman is "ordained" in a secret ceremony in Europe.

On a similar grammatical note, the Supreme Court now considers private property (and picture Justice Stevens gesturing with his fingers to denote quotes) "private property." There are now no limits to takings.

Strawberry Kiwi Goo

Snapple attempts to set up the world's largest popsicle (or iced lolly if you prefer.)in NYC in June. Popsicle melts before being erected. Sic transit gloria mundi.

I'm not sure what pleases me more: confirmation that Sartre and de Beauvoir were debauched (and did I mention Stalinist apologists?) or the fact that even the French really don't care all that much for them any more. I suppose I'll choose the latter. What better revenge than seeing them totally forgotten. "France hated him when he was alive and shuns him in death," French philosopher Bernard-Henri Levy said.

Ah, that's a shame.

The British Royal family costs the British taxpayer 61p. a year. Whoopdedoo. How much does Parliament cost, with all their junkets and privileges? Congress? What a bargain!

Man fills out a job application at a pizza store, and while waiting for his pizza, changes his mind and robs the store instead. And, yes, he left the application behind. "I would chalk it up to either inexperience or plain stupidity," Clark County prosecutor Frank Coumou told the Las Vegas Review-Journal for a Wednesday report.

According to Any-Day-In-History, today the first doughnut was made. In that case, June 22 ought to be a national holiday.

The first "humanist wedding" in Great Britain took place at the Edinburgh Zoo. Seems about right, no? I wonder who gave the bride away, the panda or the giraffe.

Enoch Soames sticks up for the bully Waugh against the bully Baldwin. Here, here. And I have been to a tractor pull.

Dahn entertaining article by Peter Hitchins on the impending death of the British Tory Party. He wants a new British party of tradition: On the great battlefields of marriage and the family, education and culture, morality and law, the Tories have been utterly outmanoeuvred and bypassed. Because they did not fight, they co-operated in the destruction of their own electorate. To this day, they have no idea why it is that they are so despised by the young, and their wretched attempts to toady to fashion — in such areas as civil partnerships for homosexuals — manage to offend or puzzle their supporters while utterly failing to convince their opponents that they are genuine. It would be perfectly all right to be the Nasty Party if they knew why it was necessary to be nasty and meant it. Millions long for a truly Nasty government, that will be thoroughly horrid to the wicked, the criminal and the dishonest, and to the European Union. But to be Nasty without meaning to is worse than useless. And to be Nice about these things is to let down the besieged, oppressed, vandalised, burgled, mugged people of Britain. Long live the Nasty Party!

I thought I read this headline wrong when I first glanced at it: "Plumber who took leak convicted." But, no, the BBC is quite punny this morning. The plumber did a nasty thing on camera and was caught.

Sporting News

A great essay in the WSJ by the one, the only, Julius...Dr. J...Errrrviiiiing!. He remembers the 1980 NBA Finals in which rookie Magic Johnson helped the Lakers win against the Sixers...a very gracious essay, considering how bitter that memory still is for Sixers' fans. But then, what sports memory isn't bitter for a good Philadelphia fan? I know I must have some happy, sweet ones in the cerebrum somewhere...oh, yeah, there's a real good one. Tug McGraw's last pitch to win the World Series. Mmmmm. Let me just bask in that for a bit.

(Pause)

OK, all the other ones are really, really bitter. No way around it.

But...if you can't get good memories from Philly teams, maybe you should start paying attention to cricket.

Exciting stuff! A brilliant one-day by England against Australia...now there's a clause I never thought I'd write, for all sorts of reasons. Anyway, the English bowlers ("pitchers") Darren Gough and Jon Lewis got seven batsman ("batters") out in just 20 balls ("pitches"). In cricket this is akin to, I don't know...a triple-play. Twice in one game. Something like that. It's hard to do, anyway.

This is particularly important, because Australia is visiting England this summer to contend in the oldest tournament in sport, the Ashes. The Ashes is a battered trophy with, inside, ashes supposedly from burn cricket stumps. Legend has it some English ladies burnt the cricket stumps ("Stumps" are the verticals that hold up the little crosspieces called "bails" to form a wicket--that's what the bowler is trying to hit, and the batter trying to "defend") after Australia won a tournament in England in 1882...pretty early for a bunch of Australians to come all the way around the world to tour England playing cricket, but there it is. To say that England was collectively stunned is putting it mildly. The name for the tournament almost certainly comes from the following "memorial notice" in the Sporting Times, rather than from a rather dubious stories about cricket-loving cuties:

In Affectionate Rememberance of English Cricket Which Died At The Oval on 29th August 1882
Deeply lamented by a large circle of sorrowing friends and acquaintances
R.I.P
NB: The body will be cremated, and the ashes taken to Australia.


They've been playing ever since. The last time that England won was...

...Well, it was three years after the Sixers won an NBA championship.

In England, that's reckoned a long time to bear defeat. In Philadelphia, it's called life.

Any and all professors can relate to this article from the Post on grade pressure from students. I get the emails and phone calls every semester -- "but I worked so hard..." And this relates to your grade how?

Mighty fine to see that Andrew Cusack is hanging out with Welsh Corgi devotees on Long Island. If Mr. Cusack sees this, I'd be delighted to know where (confidentially, of course) his friends acquired these fine dogs, my dear mother being a breeder and judge of long standing. And tape that left ear up. It can and should stand. God Save the Queen.

The truth was, I began at last to see, that throughout those old days [Mr. Lowell] had known better than any of us what dull, fruitless beings we college boys were; but that his business had been to teach us all he could, and he had known that he, at least, could teach best by showing himself to us as he was. All this kindness, all this friendliness, all this humanity was real; all the culture he had striven to impart to us was as precious as we had ever thought it. We ourselves, though, were mere passing figures, not worth very serious personal memory; and Mr. Lowell valued people at their true worth, and was beautifully free from that clerical kind of humbug which presses your hand after an interval of years, and asks feelingly for the dear children it has never bothered its wits about.

Barrett Wendell on his former Harvard professor, James Russell Lowell, 1893

A low in the world of entertaining and interesting information was reached last week when we were having Piercefest '05, Bunnie was blogging on the Spelling Bee, and the Washington Post was of the opinion that all we wanted to read about was Deep Throat. On the other hand, I certainly did get a lot of work done.

And yet proving that even the most tedious story has its interesting aspects, this story makes an excellent point about the Deep Throat frenzy.

No, I'll have a few more things to say about the President coming up. I momentarily stopped talking about the great man because of an ill-timed sinus infection which put me flat on my back for three days. Now, fortified with anti-biotics and back in Indiana, I am gathering my strength.

Seems John Kerry was not the academic superman we thought. He finally released his Yale grades, and low and behold, they are nearly identical to President Bush -- in some cases far lower. He received 4 D grades his freshman year (two history courses, political science, and geology), while his best first year grades were in another poli-sci course and (hold the choking and ironic laughter) French.

Doc: are you done talking about Pierce? Surely that was just throat-clearing, wasn't it?

This Rob Long piece, which ends just when it starts to get lose-your-breath-from-laughing hilarious, is enough to make me consider buying National Review Digital just so I can read the end.

Read it at your own risk (Make sure you are not drinking coffee, as I was. Fortunately I missed my iBook.):



12, rue Jacob

Paris 75006

Jeudi, le 26 mai:
Le patient arrives, late in the afternoon, directly from the Elysée Palace, for his regularly scheduled session with le docteur, his psychiatrist. Le patient has been preparing his remarks to la République, which he is scheduled to give in the evening. In his job as le Président de la République he displays command and dignity and an almost de Gaulle-esque (a former patient of this humble docteur, incidentally) power. But in his private moments — naked, alone, tout seul — he is clearly in turmoil. He is playing a dangerous game, perhaps even a deadly game, with his political life. Should the vote go his way on Sunday he will be a hero, a god-king, a lion d'or. Should it not, the crétinisation de Jacques Chirac will commence, sans arrêt.

The crisis plays on his face. He looks terrible — old, haggard, wan — but when le docteur points this out, le patient merely shrugs majestically and lights a cigarette.

He is upbeat and optimistic. He tells le docteur that the various opinion polls that suggest that Sunday's referendum will result in a resounding "non" for the European constitution are "absurd" and "to be mocked." When le docteur shrugs, le patient chuckles loudly and rearranges his scarf as he opens a bottle of wine and lights another cigarette. For a moment, the office is silent save for the rustle and clatter of le patient's many activities.

After a few puffs and a sip or two of wine, le patient finally sits opposite le docteur. He smiles bravely. Le docteur shrugs. Le patient shrugs in return. The session begins.

Pierce-fest '05 continued

Red Ted excerpts from President Pierce's 1854 annual address (although there is some confusion here -- he calls it the Fourth Annual Address, which would make it 1856 -- again, being away from the books, I cannot verify which), a fairly standard Jacksonian Democratic grocery list, which a few items peculiar in their emphasis to Pierce:

"We have to maintain inviolate the great doctrine of the inherent right of popular self-government;" Standard stuff, although how you define popular self-government is a problem. Just ask Kansans 1854-1858.

"to reconcile the largest liberty of the individual citizen with complete security of the public order;" Goodness, Barry Goldwater said the same thing. The largest amount of individual freedom conducive to public order.

"to render cheerful obedience to the laws of the land, to unite in enforcing their execution, and to frown indignantly on all combinations to resist these;" That means you, abolitionists and others who view a disagreement with Federal law as reason enough to ignore it completely. Stop reading Thoreau.

"to harmonize a sincere and ardent devotion to the institutions of religious faith with the most universal religious toleration;" Pierce was a separation guy and well-known as an attorney for his defense of Shaker religious rights in New Hampshire.

"to preserve the rights of all by causing each to respect those of the other;" The power of example. Shame nobody was paying attention.

"to carry forward every social improvement to the uttermost limit of human perfectibility, by the free action of mind upon mind, not by the obtrusive intervention of misapplied force;" Good Jacksonian line -- reform via individuals and families, not government institutions and law.

"to uphold the integrity and guard the limitations of our organic law;" Pierce the lawyer talking.

"to preserve sacred from all touch of usurpation, as the very palladium of our political salvation, the reserved rights and powers of the several States and of the people;" States rights

"to cherish with loyal fealty and devoted affection this Union, as the only sure foundation on which the hopes of civil liberty rest;" But he was a states rights Unionist, very much in the line of Jackson.

"to administer government with vigilant integrity and rigid economy;" Jacksonians were renowned penny-pinchers of public monies. After four years of Pierce, the federal government was running a surplus and had entirely paid off the national debt. I think this is the last time it has happened in American history.

"to cultivate peace and friendship with foreign nations, and to demand and exact equal justice from all, but to do wrong to none; to eschew intermeddling with the national policy and the domestic repose of other governments, and to repel it from our own; never to shrink from war when the rights and the honor of :he country call us to arms, but to cultivate in preference the arts of peace, seek enlargement of the rights of neutrality, and elevate and liberalize the intercourse of nations; and by such just and honorable means, and such only whilst exalting the condition of the Republic, to assure to it the legitimate influence and the benign authority of a great example amongst all the powers of Christendom." A slightly misleading foreign policy grab-all, in that it looks pacifistic, but in reality was more than ready to fight for territory and honor if the chance arrived. Pierce was a "Young America" devotee -- expansion of national borders was quite desirable.

President Pierce, God, and Annoying Pastors

Well, well, well. You take a short vacation from the cornfields of Indiana and suddenly you are beckoned, lured, brazenly jostled out of your hiding place. As luck would have it, I am currently sitting roughly 10 miles from dear Frank Pierce's birthplace/father's home/pub in Hillsborough, New Hampshire. Back on the old rocky sod, God bless.

I haven't lost too much sleep in recent years on Pierce's religious proclivities, unless thoroughly lubricated with gin or wine (what better way to consider the sadly bibulous FP) and chatting with the O-man. Red Ted notes that the President (that's what we call him in our house) was a New England Episcopalian. Let me make a weak rejoinder based purely on memory, since I am away from all my books. He wasn't an Episcopalian when he was President. If memory serves, he professed the Episcopal faith in the 1860s, after his wife (a thorough-going old line Congregationalist like her father) died. He then began attending (and professed the faith at) St. Paul's Church in Concord, NH, across from the State Capitol. In fact, he was buried out of there in 1869. Before this, Pierce was a sort of loose Congregationalist out of respect towards his wife.

The President also had a lingering mistrust of American religion based upon the political pastors and reformers of the antebellum era, and this may have led to the lateness of his religious life. He blamed them for much of the strife of the 1840s and 1850s, claiming that God was on their side, and making what he considered political and legal matters into universals and ultimates. Frankly put (pun very much intended), he couldn't find a church or pastor that did not irritate the hell out of him. Yet the Episcopal pastor in Concord spoke of saving the soul and restoring all things in Christ, not making the American South look like Suffolk County, Massachusetts. Here, he finally felt comfortable and at home, not constantly henpecked on reformist politics. In so many ways, Pierce became an Episcopalian in reaction against abolition and the Civil War.

As to how Pierce compares to contemporaneous presidents (say, Jefferson to A. Johnson) in how they used religion, that is a very interesting and complicated question, one that I'll have to mull over a bit to cover it well.

You asked for it.

Take Her Down Fifty Meters, Number One! Rig for Silent Running!

Sound the klaxon! I have spied, like a tanned Yank sub captain [Style Ed.: Doubless, in your imagination, played by Cary Grant? Ombud: Yes.] seeing a low-flying Japanese torpedo plane approaching his command from out of the sunrise over the South China Sea, another person on the blogosphere besides the Doc committed to the study of Franklin Pierce!

(Alarm; running feet; sound of men falling through the hatch)

Red Ted (which, I must say, I believe to be a pseudonym) wonders what the heck was the nature of Frank Pierce's religious belief. He begins with this startling admission:

"I have spent much of the evening trying to make sense of Franklin Pierce."

(Sound of rushing water; hatches slamming shut; wheels being spun frantically)

"I know that I am not alone, [Ombudsman: Yeah, whatever, buddy] and that many of us spend our time trying to figure the guy out. Most of the blogosphere is well aware that Frank was the 14th president of the U.S., that he came from New Hampshire, that he was a dark horse candidate elected on a late ballot as a pro-Southern Democrat from New Hampshire, that he was widely derided during the campaign as being the "hero of many a well fought bottle" because of his disastrous experience as a Brigadier during the Mexican-American War, and that he is widely considered one of the worst American Presidents.

He is confusing to me because of his religious beliefs. A New England Episcopalian, he chose to affirm rather than swear his oath of office. Unusually for Democrats (and political hacks, he qualified as both) his public pronouncements show a complicated sense of civil religion and national providence. Unlike the simple-minded triumphalism of James K. Polk et al, and unlike the civic Providence of Jackson, Harrison, and Taylor (so long as we hold to the Constitution, then the nation will prosper and be blessed), he called forward a sense of national frailty and contingency, a national providence that might not be granted for the future. His term as high priest of American Civil Religion thus looked far more like James Madison and John Quincy Adams than like his contemporaries. The closest similarity is Abraham Lincoln, and yet the two men's Gods, biographies, and backgrounds are mightily different. About the only thing they had in common was a sense of humor.

Then again, humor is tied to an awareness of pain, so perhaps it is not so surprising that the two mid-century advocates of contingent Providence were also much funnier than Buchanan, Fillmore, Polk, or the rest of the crew. For that matter, I have trouble imagining Andrew Jackson teasing his friends the way that Pierce teased Benjamin Brown Finch after the accident with the rum and the lemonade."

The crew is silent; sweat running down their faces; they wait for the sound of a torpedo in the water. Then the Captain clears his throat and says, softly:

So, Doc, what exactly was the accident with the rum and lemonade? Is that some kind of New Hampshire cocktail?

The crew blanches; surely they are now for it...

(Mis-)Interpreting DC

Brilliant writers do not always make good political analysts, especially when they are from the United Kingdom and have Washington, D.C. as their beat. Dr. Potomac refers, of course, to Andrew Sullivan, late of the New Republic and now periodic contributor to the Sunday Times, the New York Times and his own blog. Mr. Sullivan's piece in the Sunday Times this week, while surely of great interest to readers in metropolitan London, was, from start to finish, a misinterpretation of developments in the American capital. It is difficult to tell whether this is the result of little or no reporting on Mr. Sullivan's part or his ongoing obsession with religious conservatives as a clear and present danger to the
Republic.

Paragraphs three and four are where Sullivan runs into a ditch he never gets out of. First, he explains that the filibuster deal in the Senate will "mildly constrain" the President hen vacancies occur on the Supreme Court later this year. Second, he claims the "hard social right" is "livid" over a "defeat" on stem cell policy in the House of Representatives. And finally, he believes that John McCain, by exploiting the excesses of the conservative wing of the Republican party on both of the above issues, has succeeded in transferring power away from the White House, toward himself and strengthening the McCain for President in 2008.

Let's take these ideas one at a time, shall we?

The ink on last week's Senate deal began to run off the page before all 14 signatures were affixed. (By the way, the pretentiousness of that signing boggles the mind. Signing things is what President's do and what just about every senator wants to do but can't. By in large, senators regard themselves as presidents-in-waiting and putting their names to that "agreement" must have given them a frisson of executive action but that's about all it will accomplish.) Sullivan's notion that this will in any way constrain President Bush in his choices for the Supreme Court represents a fundamental misreading of Bush's character. It is far more likely that Bush will take great joy in rolling a grenade onto the Senate floor in the form of a highly qualified and highly controversial conservative judge. This will re-divide the parties and force dissident Republicans back into the fold while driving the Democrats into full filibuster mode. The primary objective here is not to fill seats on the Supreme Court or the Appellate courts but to take the courts out of policy development and restore them to their proper role as administrators of justice. In short, POTUS wants a fight over the courts and the Senate "agreement" means little or nothing to his objectives. He has gotten approval for three conservative judges. Fine. He will want more and will continue to pursue this course irrespective of what the moderates think is best for the country.

On stem cell policy, pro-life forces on the Hill, far from being chagrined, saw last week's outcome as an unqualified success. No one is under the illusion that the Bush policy is in any way popular among Democrats, the bio-tech industry or the public at large (at least in the terms that the debate is typically conducted: people in wheel chairs versus frozen embryos.) The main threat the pro-life movement saw leading up to the vote was that there would be an insufficient minority to sustain a presidential veto of the legislation in the House. After weeks of intense effort, the pro-life movement was able to build a substantial cushion against a potential veto override. There was even modest progress on reshaping public attitudes on the moral status of the embryo through pictures like this that appeared on the front page of the Washington Post following the House vote. The Bush policy on stem cells is safe through 2008 and is likely to be a central issue in the Republican presidential primaries. No one who favors overturning that policy will stand a chance of getting the nomination meaning that the pro-stem cell research team must now wait for the election of a Democrat. That could be a very long wait given the dynamics of an Electoral College that continues it glacial movement toward the South and West.

Finally, John McCain. Dr. Potomac has a confession to make: he loves John McCain. This affection is based on having seen the man in action on the Senate floor in some private, unscripted moments in which he revealed great humor and personal humanity. He brings joy to the work of politics. He hates the French. So, what's not to like? Being a reasonable conservative, Dr. Potomac is as much dismayed as anyone by Senator McCain's strayings from the orthodox faith. He's like an unstable chemical element - on wheels. It would be great fun to watch a President McCain but there's a strong chance the whole enterprise would end in tears.

With this confession in mind, Dr. Potomac is willing to assert firmly that last week's Senate deal and the vote on stem cell research will do much to retard the Senator's chances of becoming President. On judges, he injected himself into an issue of great import to his chief adversaries - the base of the Republican party, keeping the enmities of 2000 very much fresh in the religious right's mind. On stem cells, he will face withering grassroots attacks and suffer a political death by a thousand door knockers in Iowa. New Hampshire independents will love him; latitude not withstanding, South Carolina will be much colder climes. McCain told reporters after the deal on judges was announced that he wasn't afraid of the politics as long as he was sure he did the right thing. Dr. Potomac
hopes this thought will warm him when his candidacy folds its tent on a cold March night in 2008.

The Shaky-Shaky Dance of Defeat

Readers of the Manolo know all about the Eurovision Song Contest, more really than we ever wanted to know, but did anyone ever suspect that the Eurovision Song Contest may contribute to the demise of the EU?

Bookish, hard, and full of rage

Far be it from the Style Editor to cock a snook at the writing world. I am generally supportive of most writers as I know darn well that I would never have the patience or talent to write an actual book; I can barely make it through a blog entry. Further more I salute any writer who can make a living at the game, even if they do so by writing the purplest of romance prose. But a deplorable spirit is creeping into the book world, a menace that must be stopped. I refer of course to the "SAT/ACT vocabulary novel" These novels are designed as "fun" prep pieces full of the 1,000 most common SAT vocab words. That is their purpose at any rate, although not all readers seem to grasp that purpose.

I've heard of teaching to the test, but this is ridiculous. When do the "SAT reading comprehension" novels come out? I can do no better than to quote the Ombudsman who when informed of this development replied, "Hey kids, read a damn book, and stay off my lawn!"