The manners of the world are not a regular system, planned by philosophers upon settled principles, in which every cause has a congruous effect, and one part has a just reference to another. Of the fashions prevalent in every country, a few have arisen, perhaps, from particular temperatures of the climate; a few more from the constitution of the government; but the greater part have grown up by chance; been started by caprice, been contrived by affectation, or borrowed without any just motives of choice from other countries.
To be able to procure its own entertainments, and to subsist upon its own stock, is not the prerogative of every mind. There are, indeed, understandings so fertile and comprehensive, that they can always feed reflection with new supplies, and suffer nothing from the preclusion of adventitious amusements; as some cities have within their own walls enclosed ground enough to feed their inhabitants in a siege. But others live only from day to day, and must be constantly enabled, by foreign supplies, to keep out the encroachments of languor and stupidity.
By JONATHAN MARTIN & CARRIE BUDOFF BROWN | 1/22/09 6:43
PM ESTUpdated: 1/23/09 7:20 AM
President Obama made a surprise visit to the White House
press corps Thursday night, but got agitated when he was faced with a
Asked how he could reconcile a strict ban on lobbyists in
his administration with a Deputy Defense Secretary nominee who lobbied for
Raytheon, Obama interrupted with a knowing smile on his face.
"Ahh, see," he said, "I came down here to
visit. See this is what happens. I can't end up visiting with you guys and
shaking hands if I'm going to get grilled every time I come down here."
Amazing. A member of the White House Press Corps actually attempts to do his job in the presence of the anointed One, and this is what emerges.
Does Obama really think that a simple, single question constitutes, "grilling?" Well, I guess we better get the lawyers at Justice to send down a ruling and figure out if the press now fits the legal definition of torture. Oooh, harsh interrogations!
What the hell does he think the press room is for? Just hanging out with the buds, joking and giving out fist bumps?
Oh. Yeah. Right. How silly of me.
The president was quickly saved by a cameraman in the room
who called out: “I’d like to say it one more time: ‘Mr. President.’ ”
The press is in such a state of post-coital bliss that all it can do is roll over towards the One - enjoyin' his cigarette - snuggle up and whisper in his ear, "Mr. President," with such sycophantic adoration as to put Marilyn Monroe's singing of Happy Birthday to JFK to utter shame.
day to remember Garrison
Keillor January 21, 2009 One simply
wanted to be present. Freezing cold or not, a crowd of 2 million, whatever—solemn
warnings about tight security, long lines, traffic jams, cell phones not
working. In the end, one wanted to be there on the Mall before the Capitol on
Tuesday at noon amid the jubilant throng and see the man take the oath of
office—our first genuine author-president.
Hold on there, cowboy. Not by a long shot.
Hey moron, let's try Thomas Jefferson, to begin with. 1782. Notes On The State Of Virginia, one of the great observational histories written up to that time. Sounds like an author to me.
Or, how about Theodore Roosevelt? He managed to publish The Naval War of 1812 upon his graduation from Harvard in 1880. Of course, Harvard wasn't dumbed down then like it is now. He wrote it as an undergrad. It's still the definitive book on the subject. Yeah. He was an author.
Woodrow Wilson. Congressional Government and Constitutional Government. And numerous other books. Yep. You guessed it. Author.
Kennedy's Profiles In Courage doesn't count. He didn't write it.
Those are just the ones I remember off the top of my head.
Garrison Keillor is a bloviating fool, skating on the ever thinning ice of past, questionable talent. He wouldn't know real authorship if it crawled up his ass sideways.
I mean, really. Obama's pieces of masturbatory fluff are going to stand up to serious histories and analytics from people far more talented and intelligent than he could ever dream of being?
Of all kinds of credulity, the most obstinate and wonderful is that of political zealots; of men, who being numbered, they know not how or why, in any of the parties that divide a state, resign the use of their own eyes and ears, and resolve to believe nothing that does not favor those whom they profess to follow.