“But last week’s Paris attack was different. It was about radical, violent Islam’s hatred of the West and desire to kill and terrorize its people. They will not be appeased; we won’t talk them out of it at a negotiating table or by pulling out of Iraq or staying out of Syria. They will have their caliphate, and they will hit Europe again, as they will surely hit us again, to get it. So again, the only question: What to do? On this issue the American president is, amazingly, barely relevant. The leaders and people of Europe and America will not be looking to him for wisdom, will, insight or resolve. No commander in chief of the U.S. armed forces can be wholly irrelevant, but to the extent one can be, Mr. Obama is.”
— Peggy Noonan 11/19/15
Archive for the ‘Current Events’ Category
Friday, November 20th, 2015
Saturday, May 2nd, 2015
“Many whites fear being called racists. And many black leaders have a vested interest in blaming black problems primarily on white racism, so that is the narrative they push regardless of the reality. Racism had become an all-purpose explanation for bad black outcomes, be they social or economic. If you disagree and are white, you’re a bigot. If you disagree and are black, you’re a sell-out.
“The shooting death of a young black man by a white police officer in Ferguson, Missouri, last year touched off a national discussion about everything except the aberrant behavior of so many young black men that results in such frequent encounters with police. We talked about racial prejudice, poverty, unemploymennt, profiling, the tensions between law enforcement and poor black communities, and so forth. Rarely did we hear any discussion of black crime rates.
“Homicide is the leading cause of death for young black men in the U.S., and around 90 percent of the perpetrators are also black. Yet for months we’ve had protesters nationwide pretending that our morgues are full of young black men because cops are shooting them. Around 98 percent of black shooting deaths do not involve police. In fact, a cop is six times more likely to be shot by someone black than the opposite. The protestors are pushing a false anti-cop narrative, and everyone from the president on down has played along.”— Jason L Riley 1/30/15
Look! It’s a bird . . .
Monday, January 26th, 2015Intelligence-gathering drones to mimic the look and behavior of bumblebees, hummingbirds, and bluefin tuna? Kiddoes, this will not be your Grandy-bo’s Cold War.
Monday, November 10th, 2014
Tomorrow is Veterans Day and, sadly, I am thinking less about the men and women who have served and more about the current commander in chief. America elected someone she thought was a catalytic figure, and still longed for true leadership four years later, but the man has squandered nearly every opportunity provided by the flow of events. He and his apologists will always attempt to persuade otherwise, with excuses that historians must soon discard when the comparison to effective presidents is made. Ultimately, leaders are never judged by the nature of any obstacles they faced, but by the magnitude of difficult personal achievements in spite of them.
Wednesday, November 5th, 2014
“I am not on the ballot this fall. . . . But make no mistake — these policies are on the ballot, every single one of them.”
— President Obama in Chicago 10/02/14
Monday, September 29th, 2014
“Sex crime springs from fantasy, hallucination, delusion, and obsession. A random young woman becomes the scapegoat for a regressive rage against female sexual power: “You made me do this.” Academic clichés about the “commodification” of women under capitalism make little sense here: It is women’s superior biological status as magical life-creator that is profaned and annihilated by the barbarism of sex crime.”
— Camille Paglia 9/29/14
Sunday, September 14th, 2014
“There have always been isolated losers. But that isolation often inspired its own remedy. People want to belong to a community. That desire fuels assimilation and civilization. The horrifying challenge of today is that thanks to the digital age and an ideology and a culture that often sees assimilation as incompatible with “multiculturalism,” the losers no longer have to stop being losers to cure their sense of isolation. They can join a huge virtual rape gang on the Web and have their evil desires confirmed and celebrated. And some of them, weary of puncturing their masturbatory reveries by pecking out LOL on a keyboard, have the option of hopping on a plane.”
— Jonah Goldberg 9/5/14
A lifetime of laughs
Tuesday, April 29th, 2014For some reason, I have always thought of Mickey Rooney as a contemporary of my mother, perhaps due to his association with Judy Garland. When he died on April 6th, my sadness was out of proportion to how much I admired him as an entertainer, because I thought that he had been the last living cast member from It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World. I was wrong. Carl Reiner (Tower Controller), Marvin Kaplan (Irwin), and Barrie Chase (Sylvester’s Girlfriend) are still with us. Although Rooney reportedly changed his view later in life, he was known to have disliked the movie. Like Gleason, he was under-appreciated as a dramatic actor, and recognition for his talent could never fully rise above the criticism directed at this private life. I felt more genuine sorrow when other favored participants passed away in recent years — Peter Falk (Third Cab Driver), Sid Caesar (Melville Crump), and, of course, Jonathan Winters (Lennie Pike), the character that cracks me up the most.
Why is this motion picture my favorite comedy from childhood? Well, I can watch it anytime, anywhere, never tire of its pure humor, and know that particular scenes will always make me laugh, no matter how many times I have seen them. I viewed excerpts again today, because it is my birthday, and I realized that it has been 50 years since “Memoms,” my grandmother Dixon, took me to the Dabel Theater to enjoy the curved, widescreen version during its initial release to Cinerama venues. (actually it was shot in single-film 70mm Ultra Panavision). It was a transporting experience for a twelve-year-old boy (the ideal target viewer for the Stanley Kramer slapstick classic). Because I must have been sitting on or near the optical “sweet spot,” it was my first full-immersion sensory experience in life. Those Rooney-Hackett airplane sequences were a helluva ride, but I guess “you had to be there.”
Some people have their comfort foods. I have my comfort film. If I ever have to take the Norman Cousins prescription, “It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World” surely will be my laughter therapy of choice.
Gallery Hop ~ a precursor to Open Studio
Wednesday, August 21st, 2013At the recent Gallery Hop Stop in downtown Danville, I was pleased that people sought out my display of collage miniatures, tucked away in the conference room of Tye Financial. Needless to say, this small town in Kentucky is not a stronghold of contemporary art collectors, but the opportunity to interact with those kind enough to pause and discuss the medium of collage is always a valuable learning experience for me. Most of my hoard is now configured for direct purchase at The Collage Miniaturist, before all of it is made available to the public at the 2013 ArtTour, Annual Open Studios of Central Kentucky.
Go ahead and grab one for yourself before November.
My recent display of collage miniatures in downtown Danville.
Mar/X Three
Sunday, March 3rd, 2013Haven’t even taken three sips of bean brew this morning and my mind is already galloping free. Is the world changing too fast or just caught in a bizarre status quo? The “news” out of DC is unbearable. Is anyone there capable of leadership or problem solving? Naive to even think that’s possible? Can’t tell anymore if things are going haywire or are carefully scripted. Corporations seem prepared to do almost anything in service to the bottom line (even Maker’s Mark tried to water down its Bourbon before a base of dedicated consumers took to pitchforks), and political whores seem willing to stop at nothing to erode what were once enduring freedoms. What is with this throwback to the roots of proto-fascist collectivism in the American body politic? Was the pendulum bound to swing, or is “my America” really slipping away? Perhaps it was an illusion, but I can’t let it go. Is there some way for me to incorporate my concerns into my art? Good question. Collage can be an ideal medium for social commentary, but it needs to be done with careful, nuanced thought. Not sure if I am the best guy to tackle it, or if I even want to, but I know that I should not reject the idea just because it would be more difficult than what I’m currently creating. No doubt that I could bring all the same aesthetic considerations to bear, but it would be a much deeper conceptual challenge. And, sadly, I do fret about producing work that has no market value (probably the most stupid worry in which a creative person can indulge and still purport to call oneself a modern artist).
It’s only about We if it rhymes with Me
Monday, January 21st, 2013
This president— who today begins his second term in office —never has been the leader to competently unify our country. He merely has been clever enough to prevent anyone else from doing so. He has blunted the ambition of his rivals (the Clintonians) and kept his opponents fragmented (the Republicans), without offering serious solutions to grave problems or paving the way for someone who will. His emphasis on “We” must be interpreted in the context of his purposeful rhetoric of condescension, exclusion, and division. The feel-good unity of “We the People” is actually a call for solidarity within his collectivist coalition and a message to those who disagree with his priorities and policies to fall in line or back out of the national conversation.
Not a bad precaution . . .
Sunday, January 13th, 2013“When the resolution of enslaving America was formed in Great Britain, the British Parliament was advised by an artful man, who was governor of Pennsylvania, to disarm the people; that it was the best and most effectual way to enslave them; but that they should not do it openly, but weaken them, and let them sink gradually …. I ask, who are the militia? They consist now of the whole people, except a few public officers. But I cannot say who will be the militia of the future day. If that paper on the table [the Constitution without a Bill of Rights] gets no alteration, the militia of the future day may not consist of all classes, high and low, and rich and poor.”
— George Mason
In response to a friend who said, “I tire of the suggestion that we need semi-automatic weapons just in case we need to overthrow the government,” I replied:
I respect your view, but think of the countless mothers worldwide who have lost their families in brutal coups and tyrannical oppressions (even during our lifetimes). The idea is not that Americans will need to mount an overthrow. The idea is that the need will never emerge in the first place
because those who framed the Bill of Rights did not find the deterrent a bad precaution, as tiresome as it may seem at times.
Virginian George Mason ultimately did not vote to ratify the U.S. Constitution because it did not include a Bill of Rights. Thus, he sacrificed his place in history as the leading mind that helped shape the invention of American self-government.
“Ain’t you afeard?”
Tuesday, July 24th, 2012What was the world coming to and what hearty pleasures folks today missed out of life! One bag of meal her pap said, used to make a whole family rejoice. Now folks came ungrateful from the store, grumbling they had to carry such a heavy market basket. Was that the way this great new country of hers was going to go? The easier they made life, the weaker and sicker the race had to get? Once a majority of the men got weak and soft, what weak, harmful ways would they vote the country into then? Well, her pap’s generation could get down on their knees and thank the Almighty they lived and died when they did. How would they ever have come and settled this wild country if they said to each other, “Ain’t you afeard?” How would her pappy have fetched them the long way out here on foot if he’d kept asking all the time, “Are ye all right? How do ye feel? Do ye reckon ye kin make it?” No, those old time folks she knew were scared of nothing, or if they were, they didn’t say so. They knew they ran bad risks moving into Indian country, but they had to die some time. They might as well live as they pleased and let others bury them when the time came.
—from The Town by Conrad Richter
This past weekend couldn’t dovetail more aptly with my previous musings on the parallel lines of sweetness and sorrow: the joy of hugging and laughing with Seitz Family loved ones mixed with the ache of seeing Kelly off to his final rest. I’ve never had a big brother. Wayne came the closest. If we had lived in proximity, Kelly might have filled that void in many ways, but now he’s gone, too. Susan’s choice of a strong set of funeral readings moved my spirit. The sadness was balanced with the opportunity for Mombo to see former friends from Tipp City: Jane, Flo, and Mary Jo, and I was able to kiss the cheeks of Angela, Lynnette, and Jenny, while meeting the eyes of Karen for the first time in 35 years. The bitter with the delicious—this seems to be the taste of things for me. Thus it probably always has been, but now I recognize and accept it.
Alyx joyfully announced her engagement, while grieving families in Colorado sorted out the tragic aftermath of a rancid nut-job’s evil handiwork. It’s hard not to wonder what our society is coming to when things like this happen, but how do such dangers compare to the daily risks our ancestors faced with no loss of determination? And if the frontier rangers had caught a murderer, rapist, or horse thief, the misfit would have swung from a noose in short order, without a thought wasted on his psychological deficit or woeful childhood. Perhaps we shall eventually see a would-be exponent of such premeditation swiftly and lawfully cut down by a “citizen sheepdog” who just happened to be carrying his weapon in circumstances one would think it unnecessary to do so.
Dana and I watched The Iron Lady last night, and we found too many flaws in the motion picture to recommend it, but I must say it caused me to remember Thatcher’s firm resolve in crisis. There are many kinds of fear. They must all be cast out—whether by righteous indignation or by perfect love. Throughout a life now cut short, I’m certain that Kelly was afraid at times, but I have always thought of him as one of the most fearless men I have known. Whether it was having the courage to marry young and to bear whatever stigma the world would throw upon his path, or to take on the high-pressure world of corporate sales, or live his convictions as an example to his family … or to bravely face a diagnosis that would suck the hope from someone who didn’t know what he believed. It never seemed written for the two of us to go beyond a periodic big smile and strong handshake. Nevertheless, he always set a fine example from a distance. And, for me, I expect that will continue to be the case.
Taking stock
Monday, April 16th, 2012Certainly there are numerous examples in our modern world of neglected values and inhumanity, but one would hope that the race is making steady progress, when we score ourselves against the prevailing conditions of the not-too-distant past: unbridled tyranny, wholesale intolerance, unapologetic bigotry, vicious persecution, and the justification of might for its own sake. Nevertheless, there are deeply troubling problems with aggressive human greed at the core: gross manipulation of the food supply, relentless loss of biodiversity, the trampling of fragile cultures for resource acquisition, a mass media that thrives on the banal, and the insidious stripping of individual freedoms in the quest for political gain (to name a few). Although woefully less self-reliant, I think that most human beings are less violent and more sensitive to others than our typical counterpart from previous ages, but the base distortions that drive our pervasive communications infrastructure would make us believe otherwise.
Inestimable vacuum
Tuesday, March 23rd, 2010March Exercise V —day twenty-three— Sometimes a book will accidentally get shoved behind the others on a shelf, and that’s what happened to my copy of “High Performance Health” by John Yiamouyiannis. Thinking it was long lost, I discovered it was only hidden. After a bit of skimming, it didn’t take me much time to remember that he’d outlined one of the best, most practical anti-cancer regimens I’d ever read. Ironically, “Dr. Y” died of cancer in 2000, and he was about my age. I’d lost touch with him in the 90s and, needless to say, I was stunned at the news of his demise. I can only conclude that he became so tirelessly devoted to his crusade that he neglected his own program. The other possibility is that he was covertly murdered, which wouldn’t be impossible for me to comprehend, given the powerful enemies he made over decades of bitter lawsuits and uncompromising activism. I can’t help but wonder what he’d think of the sweeping federal legislation just signed.
Today’s sight bite— The initial shock of the garish turf —c-l-i-c-k— as I first set my eyes on Centre’s all-synthetic football surface.
Previously on M-Ex— The Muse comes through for me. (3/23/06)
Tomorrow— Local cyclists gather for a group ride…
Gifted performances
Sunday, March 7th, 2010March Exercise V —day seven— I completed most of the items on my checklist, including treating the lawn with about a hundred pounds of pulverized limestone that I got from the library construction site when they drilled bedrock for the geothermal system. After that, I spread a bag of grass seed, counting on it to rain before the birds get to picking away at the yard. As usual, the day went by too fast, and I found myself settling down to watch the Academy Awards show. I hadn’t found it watchable since John Stewart played host a few years back. I was disappointed when Plummer lost, but I liked it when UP got the Oscar for best original score—that theme had me emotionally hooked within the first five minutes. I also dug the dance number used to exhibit the soundtrack nominees. Clearly the best outcome of the night was the statuette for Jeff Bridges, one of my favorite guys since The Last Picture Show. I was a big fan of his dad, and it was so cool when he mentioned the Sea Hunt series, which probably influenced my lifelong desire to spend time in the water. His remarks giving credit to his parents were an uncanny parallel to Mombo’s sentiments of Friday evening. Indeed, personal achievements are an extension of our mother’s and father’s character, but especially if they have admirably performed their roles.
Today’s sight bite— A craftsman holds high his token of recognition —c-l-i-c-k— and demonstates true sincerity in a shrine to false humility.
Previously on M-Ex— I balance real progress with out-of-reach ambitions. (3/7/07)
Tomorrow— Back to the weekday regimen…
“Jonrik” is no more . . .
Friday, January 8th, 2010
This is the last image I created in a partially successful effort to provide “cartoons to the editor,” in partnership with my pal, Rick. It’s from 2003, when several improbable events converged: Kentucky elected the first Republican governor in a generation, Saddam was captured in Iraq, Boyle County and Danville football teams concurrently won state championships for the third time, and local voters passed a liquor-by-the-drink ballot measure. The cartoon was rejected for unknown reasons. In retrospect, it does seen to violate one of the basic rules of editorial drawing— focus on a single, easy-to-grasp idea. Oh well, I still like that style, but it was too much work to continue for free.
“. . . peace to men on whom His favor rests.”
Saturday, December 26th, 2009“To be politically correct, I can say
that I’m scoping out the Norwegians
when I get on a plane, but face it,
if there’s a shaky Muslim cat near me,
I’m going to be keeping my eye on him.”—Dennis Miller
News of a thwarted terrorist act has popped the bubble of holiday euphoria, and yet, to maintain a festive mood is remarkably easy for those of us who weren’t called upon to celebrate Christmas by clambering over an airline seat to subdue a suicidal fanatic.
Yesterday morning found us at Terie and Marty’s for Christmas brunch gift giving. After arriving home we had some private time (I got a new bicycle helmet from Santa), before relaxing with afternoon victuals, enjoying the company of our dear friends, David and Lee, and a sensational Sonoma County Zinfandel from Dana’s brother Bill. A trip to Lexington followed, where we watched the new Eastwood picture and shared our evening at The Pub. Not surprisingly, “Invictus” pushed my buttons, but the editorial pacing of the World Cup championship match fell a bit short of my expectations. In any case, Freeman’s portrayal of Mandela was outstanding, and it’s my understanding that he has wanted to play the character for many years, having brought the adaptation to Clint while developing the property himself.
Today is Boxing Day, so it’s off to Kelley Ridge for more conviviality. Things just keep getting better during this splendid countdown to a landmark New Year’s Eve wedding in Louisville!
Your houses . . .
Monday, August 17th, 2009Help me into some house, Benvolio,
Or I shall faint. A plague o’ both your houses!
They have made worms’ meat of me: I have it,
And soundly too. Your houses!—MERCUTIO, Romeo and Juliet: Act 3, Scene 1
If the president was the “real deal,” he would forcefully declare that it is dead wrong for members of Congress to characterize those opposed to his health care reforms as un-American, just as it was dead wrong to have claimed that anti-Bush protesters were unpatriotic in their objections to the war in Iraq. Thus, he would likely mitigate his declining popularity, but he seems more interested in his relationship with the House Left. Presumably, he won’t invite anyone to portray him as a critic of Democrat leaders. He must be worried about their prospects in next year’s mid-term elections, but, ironically, his allowing them to blunder forward unchecked is precisely what will lose seats for his party.
Oops!
Saturday, June 20th, 2009When the tyrants of Iran invested their future in the radicalization of an entire culture and rising generation, did they ever once suspect that democracy might become the new jihad?
Saturday, May 2nd, 2009
†
Jack Kemp
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