Hereunder

Woke Shaving

Gentle visitors, just after shaving with one of Harry's razors the other day, your humble Contributor read of a kerfuffle over a Facebook ad posted by Harry's concerning toxic masculinity.  It seems that Harry 's, which makes excellent, inexpensive blades, no longer wants men to man up so much as to man down: a counterintuitive approach to increase sales to men, but there you go.

Were it up to him, your humble Contributor would hardly be shearing the stubble each morning.  Rather, he would allow the beard to be what it wants to be: a salt and red pepper bristle covering cheek, chin, and jowl, shielding these fleshy parts against the cold north wind, offering an indication of wisdom where little actually resides, and compensating for a receding hairline.

But, the Other Householder frowns upon such a facial growth, suggesting that, if he did so, your humble Contributor may end up sleeping on the concrete slab in the unfinished basement, mid-winter, with perhaps a carpet remnant rolled over as a blanket.   Your humble Contributor intimated that the Other Householder really fears that a neatly trimmed Van Dyke, for instance, would make himself dangerously (not to say toxically) handsome. However, she observed that the risk of this was equivalent to the chances of the Washington Nationals winning a play-off series:  that is, nil.   With that observation, any danger was averted.

Still, it is difficult for us pre-millenials to keep up with what is now good and bad.  We knew that wolf whistling was not good; but, now dog whistling (bad);  virtue signaling (good or maybe bad);  body shaming (bad); woke shaving (good).   And, what any of these has to do with dragging an incredibly sharp piece of metal across one's face each day is mystifying.

But, all of this raises further questions:  if there is a toxic masculinity, is there also a toxic femininity?  Or, does the toxicity only affect the XY but not the XX, chromosonically speaking?  Or do the toxins cross over the gonosomic divide?  If so, would it be appropriate for Venus Soft Touch to call out the offending ladies?

Moreover, Harry's gives males too much credit for being able to think these things through.  On any given day, most unwoke guys, wake up, scratch themselves, yawn demonstratively, use the facilities, think about something to eat, think about coffee; in time, they shave while thinking about nothing or about not shaving, getting through the time when the beard gets itchy, stroking the mature beard thoughtfully without actually thinking about much;  magically thinking that the beard may actually help their favored team win the playoff series, cheering the team on with their beards, their beers, and their loud yelps.  Next morning, wake up and do the same. 

Scientists believe that, genetically, men most closely resemble dogs -- though, a significant minority say pigs.  In any case, with effort, they can be trained and largely housebroken.

As for the horndogs who have recently been exposed and rightly driven away with whips, their sin is not being male, but rather being lustful, one of the seven deadly sins that persist like ancient, mortal bacteria.  Centuries ago, Thomas Aquinas pictured lust as a lion ogling a gazelle -- seeing not the gazelle's inherent beauty, strength, and grace, but his next meal.  That predatory gaze has not changed in the intervening years. 

Add to that, power.  Lord Acton wrote that "power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely [and] great men are almost always bad men...."  Perhaps  a harsh assessment, but power and overweening pride -- the king of the deadlies -- always invites the other sins in to join the party: lust, certainly, and greed, anger, envy, etc.  We all, men and women alike, need to keep a wary eye on those lowlifes.

But, in the main, Harry's should leave the unwoken just shave: better to let sleeping dogs lie.

 

 

Humbled and Surprised

Gentle visitors,

When the news hit yesterday morning, your humble Contributor was even more humbled than normal -- he had been nominated for the 2010 Nobel Peace Prize!  To say that he was surprised would be true, but only in the sense of "he surprised himself," since the nomination came from his own hand. 

In any case, here is the text of the nomination.

October 9, 2009

Norwegian Nobel Committee 
Olso, Norway

Distinguished & Noble Norwegians:

I write to nominate myself for the 2010 Nobel Peace Prize.

I realize that your rules forbid any person from nominating himself for this illustrious honor, and that I am not a "qualified nominator."  Believe me, I understand how your Committee would exclude me, in my abject humility and inconsequence, in favor of, say, a member of the U.S. Congress or a learned Professor, who, just by virtue of such an honored office, has exhibited the requisite level of nobility and repute to merit the Committee's attention.  For the reasons set forth below, however, I would ask that the Committee waive these requirements in my own case.

I also realize that this nomination would appear premature and presumptuous to say the least.  With regard to the timing of this nomination, coming some weeks or months before deserving nominees, I am inspired by the current Nobel Peace Laureate: for he came to power in the great land of Chicago, where the electors are encouraged to vote early and often, to bring great tributes to their leaders in order to lay asphalt for the camino real, etc.

With regard to presumption, I can only say that this is very strength of my application. 

No fair review of my life would lead any rational or thoughtful Norwegian -- or, if you would forgive me, any Scandinavian whatsoever -- to believe that I have brought peace to any human, much less global, situation. Instead, it would be fair to conclude that I have brought rancor, dissent, tumult (not to mention turmoil, turbulence, clamor, hubbub, and even hullabaloo).  Moreover, I have generally done so with a particular boorishness and alarmingly distasteful sense of "humor" -- although, I use the last term very loosely.  Furthermore, these disturbances have involved only the most pedestrian, mundane, and provincial matters -- none have concerned great matters of state or of peoples.

Still, I have found myself thinking of peace of late -- that is, within the last few hours.  This morning, I began to long for it and wish for it, over a coffee and biscotti; I then brought these peaceful thoughts to my friends and co-workers, who, sadly, have the habit of ignoring my observations; and, I intend to bring this wishful thinking to the nation and to the world and beyond.  My message, from my heart, under its current disposition, shall be this:  "Give Peace a Chance."

Your awards over the last few years have demonstrated that a laureate need not have accomplished anything of lasting value -- indeed, his accomplishment may be a mere chimera.  In your inscrutable wisdom and foresight, however, you have rightly determined that reality must bow to possibility -- even the most illusory and imaginary.

I would submit that my own curriculum vitae presents the very best case for a plaudit fashioned from your majestic tundra -- having done nothing to promote peace, but wishing fervently that it might be otherwise, etc. 

Sage and generous Norwegians, I can assure you that the award money will be applied as a stimulus to my mission and my lifestyle -- springs at Cannes, summers at Lake Como, winters at St. Moritz, a cruise along your famous fjords, and so forth.

In conclusion, I commit this nomination to your careful consideration (with the requested rule waivers, as previously noted).

Your humble and obedient Contributor,

Remainderman

Embracing Convention

Gentle visitors, the very infrequency of posts, hereunder, makes it necessary to describe our publication as an occasional rather than a journal, since the latter denotes a daily contribution.  Not that a daily portion would improve, in any measure, the quality of our fare -- no more than the mass manufacture of cans of carbonated corn syrup could exceed, except in number, the selective bottling and aging of a fine wine.

Indeed, the long intervals -- seemingly interminable to our faithful visitors who languish by their flat blue screens, listlessly gripping their hand-operated electronic device, named for a common rodent, that controls the coordinates of a cursor on said screen, longing for the next great insight to appear on these pages, -- these intervals are not a sign of sloth or inactivity, but of consideration and contemplation, which, in due time, may yield a vintage of complexity and character. 

A recent visit to the grand town of Solon, Ohio, reminded your humble Contributor of its namesake -- Solon, the great Lawgiver of Ancient Greece  and "Father of Democracy" -- and it stirred a little notion, long germinating in our otherwise lifeless and fallowed mind.   In a nutshell (or an acorn, if you prefer), here it is:

In view of the rather tangled and brambled situation in which we find ourselves these days, wouldn't it be nice if a few chosen representatives of the people sat down around a very large table, without the distraction of our revered, regular representatives, and discussed ways in which we might improve the governance of the Union.  Then, having arrived at a few favored proposals, put these to the people for their approval. 

My, it would be nice.  And, happily, the framers of our Constitution made such provision, in the case that Congress, wise though it may be in matters of toy arrows and wool research, race tracks and rum, does not act to correct or limit itself. 

This little notion of ours is the subject of a timely site, Embracing Convention, which we will pursue for the balance of the political season, whereupon we will return, with more frequent occasionality, to our normal posting, filled with the usual style, best described as "avuncular", "astute", "athletic", "adamantine", "alliterative", "assonant", and a host of other words beginning with the letter "a".

The Shriving

Gentle visitors, from time to time, your humble Contributor receives a dark and terrible vision of what will be. We would prefer to keep this terror from you, but no prophet can rightly withhold what he foresees. What follows is a vision of a strange ritual of the sect of New Puritans, circa 2020, which has its precursors in the present day.

Deaconess: Sistren and brethren and othren, do we have a penitent who wishes to be shriven?

Kowalski: I wish it.

Deaconess:  Come forward penitent. [Kowalski advances, kneels, and hands the Deaconess a parchment.]

Deaconess: Brother Kowalski, thou hast sinned and done evil in the sight of the people.

Kowalski: I have.

Deaconess: Time and again, thou took up the fowle leaf of towbacco and set it afire with an infernal flame. And, thou breathed it in – unlike the blessed example of our Master William, who took only the curative fruit of the hemp – and then thou breathed out of thy mouth the awefull fumes upon the Elect, stinging and beclouding their eyes and befowling their lungs, such that they all perished in awefull pain and agony.

Kowalski: I confess.

Deaconess: Time and again, thou devoured murderous meat and fat, serving thy unsightly belly, and therefrom becoming unshapely and unfit and taxing the common wealth. And, in doing so, thou brought mortal assault upon the persons of our peaceful four-legged sistren and brethren of the field, such that they all perished in awefull pain and agony.

Kowalski: I confess.

Deaconess: Time and again, thou brought the devil’s draught to thy lips, swilling the sirup of gluttonie and fowle carbon, and therefrom becoming unshapely and unfit and taxing the common wealth.

Kowalski: I confess.

Deaconess: Time and again, thou sat by idlie whilst thy sistren and brethren and othren Elect labored in great and wholesom exertion, toiling upon the machinerie of goodly health, and by thy sloth became unshapely and unfit and taxed the common wealth.

Kowalski: I confess.

Deaconess: Time and again, thou set out upon thy smouldering carriage, burning the bastard childe of carbon in infernal flames and spewing his reek upon Holy Mother Earth, choking her blessed frame and bringing her awefull pain and agony and well nigh her perishment.

Kowalski: I confess.

Deaconess: Vile sinner, thou hast been obdurate in thy sins as well as in thy awefull paleness and stubborn fixedness of gender, violating the great Law of Diverseness.

Kowalski: I confess.

Deaconess: Sinner, thou art Impure!

Congregation: Impure!

Kowalski: I am impure.

Deaconess: Dost thou ask to be shriven and made over?

Kowalski: I do.

Priestess Hillary: Sinner, be glad that thou hast, at last, found thy voice and confessed thy sins. Thou art shriven. Let him be flailed and reassigned and made over in the image of the Goddess. [congregation applauds]

Deaconess: Step forward Penitent No 1 and receive thy penance with joy. Do we have another penitent who wishes to be shriven? ...

Life with Dignity

The past few days I have been thinking about this Oregon assisted suicide law.

When the news came out that SCOTUS determined that the Atty Gen overstepped his limits by telling physicians that they could not dispense controlled substances in lethal doses, I went to the washingtonpost dot com website to see how they covered it. They linked to their online blogs where folks can post comments on various (selected) issues. The overall theme of many posts is that physician assisted suicide (PAS) is a good thing.  It's a privacy issue.  It's a compassion issue.  It's a dignity issue. It's a "you can't legislate morality" issue.

I am not a lawyer and I have not thoroughly analyzed the opinions as many folks on both sides of the issue have. But I have my opinions

One of my major concerns is the "slippery slope" issue. Proponents of PAS say that it is carefully regulated, the patient has to have a very limited life expectancy, there have to be 2 physicians concurring, etc. If the day is not here already, I can see where it can soon be acceptable that "quality of life" and "he would have wanted it this way" will be reasons compelling enough for a physician or caregiver to pursue the death option.

Tangential to that is the degradation of the medical profession by expanding its role away from preserving life to promoting death. I don't like it. I think it's bad enough that a doctor can mutilate the genitals of a man and then declare the person a woman when they are done. Abomination I say!

Regarding "death with dignity", what does that mean? When my father was in the last six weeks of his life we had to perform for him those duties he had performed for us when we were newborns. Some may say there is a degradation in dignity in that, but for me it was an oddly rewarding experience (albeit difficult) I am sure that is not the experience for everyone, but the subjective judgment of what comprises dying with dignity is not a compelling argument for allowing doctors to kill patients.

Finally, I would like to respond to a comment in which the writer felt that those who think PAS is wrong are attempting to legislate morality. After thinking about this a while, I came to the conclusion that a lot of morality is embedded in statute and law. Recently, a number of laws have been passed concerning "hate" crimes, which I guess need to be distinguished from apathy crimes by the intent of the criminal. That, to me, is a legislated moral good.

Another example of a legislated moral good are certain aspects of the Fair Housing Act, which regulate how an American can decide who to sell or rent their house too. Attorneys who read this may be able to poke holes in those examples. Come to think about it, those of us who oppose PAS are not, in this case, trying to legislate morality, but to prevent the decriminalization of immoral activity.

Well like all good rants, I could go on and on. But I must stop. Now if I could only figure out how to run the spellchecker without losing my post.

Stop Me Before I Fail Again

“Football doesn’t build character. It reveals it.” – old football axiom, frequently attributed to former Buffalo Bills and Kansas City Chiefs coach Marv Levy.

Sen. Joe Biden told NBC’s Today hostess Katie Couric on Thursday that it would be better to skip judicial confirmation hearings and simply send a nominee’s name and record to the Senate floor for a vote. “Just go to the Senate floor and debate the nominee's statements,” Biden said, “instead of this game.”

After this week’s embarrassing performance in the Senate Judiciary Committee’s consideration of Judge Samuel Alito’s nomination to the Supreme Court, Biden is looking everywhere for someone to blame and trying to find some way to shift the focus from where it actually belongs: on the long time Committee Democrats.

It was Senate Judiciary Democrats, led by Biden and Sen. Ted Kennedy, who destroyed the value of the hearing process nearly 20 years ago when they sought and got intellectually honest responses from Judge Robert Bork during his nominations hearing – and then proceeded to smear and distort the positions of an intelligent and decent man.   Remember Kennedy's speech, given within the hour after Bork's name was sent to the Committee?: "In "Robert Bork's America . . . women would be forced into back-alley abortions, blacks would sit at segregated lunch counters, rogue police could break down citizens' doors in midnight raids, schoolchildren could not be taught about evolution...." So much for a soft answer turning away wrath.

Then, against all honor, the Democrats acted as though they took Kennedy's words seriously, and committee calumnies took their toll. In defeating the Bork nomination, they set an all-time low in Senatorial dignity, while creating the blueprint for future Democrat opposition to all Republican Supreme Court nominees.

In this historical context, Biden’s opposition to confirmation hearings is like the Boston Strangler coming out against fingerprints.  He refuses to own up to his long-term, central role in the vivisection of what could be a useful lesson in democracy.

By turning the hearings into a cat-and-mouse game, with Biden and the Democrats playing the role of Roe-baiting felines, Republican presidents and their nominees are forced to choose between forthright responses concerning the craven shallowness and anti-democratic underpinnings of the Supreme Court’s abortion ruling, and a cagey reliance on the “impropriety” of judging cases that “may someday” come before them. The former path means certain devastation, while the latter means likely elevation.

Through it all, Biden remains as shameless as Ted Kennedy at the breakfast bar at Shoney’s. Instead of admitting his own and his fellow Democrats' responsibility for poisoning a useful exercise, Biden instead argues that the hearings themselves are the problem.

And while it is true that the hearings have become, as Biden himself in the past termed them, a kabuki dance, the bigger, darker truth is that, as they are currently constructed, they tell us more about the senators on the committee than they do about the nominee. And that is very bad for Democrats.

Vowel Sounds

What follows are excerpts from the unofficial, phonetic transcript of yesterday's confirmation hearing before the Senate Judiciary Committee.

***

KENNEDY:   Judge Alioto, it's true, isn't it, that your last name ends with 'O'?

ALITO:  Senator, it's A-L-I-T-O.  But, yes, Senator, it is true.

KENNEDY:   And, isn't it also true that your last name begins with an 'A'?

ALITO:   Yes, Senator, it does.

KENNEDY:   That's right.  And, Judge Alioto, isn't it also true that fully 66% of the letters in your last name -- (aside)  what? what? oh -- fully, 60% of the letters in your last name are vowels?

ALITO:   Yes, Senator.

KENNEDY:   So, we are presented with a nominee who's last name begins and ends with vowels and, is, in fact, filled with vowels. 

ALITO: ....

***

FEINGOLD:  Judge Alito, do you recall completing a questionnaire and submitting it to this Committee in 1990 in connection to your nomination to the Third Circuit bench?

ALITO:  Yes, Senator, I do recall that. 

FEINGOLD:  Well, you did, Judge Alito, so there's no use denying it.  I have it right in front of me.  It's some 30 pages in length.  And, I've looked over the entire questionnaire, every question, every answer, and I have not found any disclosure on your part that your name ended in a vowel, much less that it consists mostly of vowels. 

ALITO:  Well, Senator, I haven't seen the questionnaire in 15 years, but I do believe that on the first page I filled in 'Name'.

FEINGOLD:  Judge Alito, this is serious business.  This body has a serious duty to inquire about your fitness to serve on the Court.  Your decisions and actions are likely to affect the lives of every American until the Twenty Third Century. 

ALITO:  Well, Senator, I am attempting to take this seriously.

FEINGOLD:  And, Judge Alito, notwithstanding your failure to fully disclose the composition of your name, you failed to recuse yourself from the cases of Pesto v. Smith, Vermicelli v. Jones, and Ricotta v. Allen.  That's true isn't it?

***

BIDEN:  Judge, I have known many fine people whose names end in vowels -- really, wonderful people.  Good people.  Decent people.  I mean, I think our great country has been enriched by people such as yourself who came here with names ending  in vowels.  'I's', 'A's', 'O's'... what have you.  I mean, where would we be without you?  Who would have manned the fruit carts?  Who would have laid the stone?  And, who were those funny little men with the monkeys? -- that's right, the organ grinders.   I remember I used to love the funny way they talked -- "atsa lotta spicy meatballs."  (chuckles)   I tell you, that used to kill me.  But, let me ask you this, are you familiar with "The Soprano's"?  You know the TV series.

ALITO:  Well, Senator, I'm aware that there's such a program.  I don't watch it.

BIDEN:  Well, Judge, it's a series about an Italian family living in New Jersey -- such as your own wonderful, ethnic family -- and, well, it's pretty entertaining, though people do die or get beaten up, and there's a lot of corruption and vice -- and, you know, their last name also ends in 'O'.  Just thought it was curious, kind of interesting...  I mean it probably doesn't mean anything, but let me ask you, looking at the Supreme Court as it now stands -- and, again, I'm just looking for your impression, you know your gut on this -- how many justices would you think have last names ending in vowels -- just looking for your take on it.

ALITO:  Well, Senator, I'd have to think for a second.

BIDEN:  Well, Judge, I don't have a lot of time left.  Let me just tell you that there's only one, and he just happens also to be Italian.  I'm speaking of course of your ideological mentor, Justice Scalia.

ALITO:   ....  Unless you count Justice Kennedy, Senator.

KENNEDY:   Judge Alioto, are you suggesting that my last name -- the same last name of my brothers Jack and Bobby -- and, for that matter, Senator Leahy's last name - that our names end in a vowel?

ALITO:  Well, Senator, I think most commentators would agree with that interpretation.  I mean, I don't know that it has any relevance to anything. 

***

SCHUMER: I take it by your earlier answers, Judge, that you believe that 'Y' is always a vowel?

ALITO:   Well, no, Senator, I'm saying that 'Y' is sometimes a vowel and sometimes a consonant.  It depends on it's context. 

SCHUMER:  How about 'O', Judge?  Is that always a vowel or sometimes not?  Or does it depend on whether or not it comes at the end of the last name of a party in a case before you?

ALITO:   Senator, I  think that 'O' is always a vowel. 

SCHUMER:  So, it would be fair to say then, Judge, that you believe that in one case it is always so and in another it depends?

ALITO:   Well--

SCHUMER:  Well, Judge, I have to say that your answer troubles me.  It's seems to me -- and, I think, to most Americans -- that your answer changes depending upon what suit you.  That's looks a lot like a double standard to me .

ALITO:   ....

SCHUMER:  Well, Judge, since it's apparent I'm not going to get a straight answer, I'll just move on.

The Last Dance

"See, you've told me nothing, Judge.  With all due respect, you've not -- look, it's kind of interesting, this Kabuki dance we have in these hearings here, as if the public doesn't have a right to know what you think about fundamental issues facing them." 

-- Sen. Joseph Biden, September 14, 2005

Joe Biden believes he is smarter, better looking, cleverer and more capable than anyone in the world.  In other words, Joe Biden is a bore.  He is a pompous, annoying, affected bore.  He is one who has mastered at least the second half of Christ's Golden Rule.  While I do not believe the old story that, when he was a boy, Biden fell, face first,  into his cereal bowl after falling in love with his own reflection, there is no doubt he is deeply inspired by his own appearance, mein and ideas.   

Jonah Goldberg recently put it this way:

" The man loves his voice so much, you’d expect him to be following it around in a grey Buick, in defiance of restraining order, as it walks home from school. He seems to think his teeth are some kind of hypnotic punctuation marks which can momentarily disorient the listener and absolve him from any of Western civilization’s usual imperatives to stop talking. Listening to him speechify is like playing an intellectual game of whack-a-mole where every now and then the fuzzy head of a good point pops up from the tundra but before you can pin it down, he starts talking about how he went to the store and saw a squirrel on the way and it was brown which brings to mind Brown V. Board of Ed which most people don’t understand because [TEETH FLASH] he taught Brown in his law school course and [TEETH FLASH] Mr. Chairman I’m going to get right to it and besides these aren’t the droids you’re looking for…."

No doubt about it, Joe Biden is enough to make a deaf man cry.

But Biden is right about one thing: the Senate confirmation hearings of Judge John Roberts really did become one great big "Kabuki dance." 

Roberts refused to answer any questions related to his judicial philosophy, provide his view on most past decisions or, generally, talk about anything else that would be of interest to a senator sincerely trying to determine whether he should vote for Roberts' confirmation.

And, of course, the Democrats have only themselves to blame for that.

After their filibusters of forthcoming nominees and their pre-game smack, predicting the rejection of anyone but a "mainstream nominee," they cannot argue, fairly, that they are outraged by Roberts' failure to answer questions.  They will (and have) used mainstream and publicly accepted answers to such questions to smear nominees and distort their positions and demagogue us all to tears.  They also take the view that any legal philosophy that might result in even one fewer abortion amounts to an "extreme philosophy" and a clear basis to filibuster.

So the Democrats are left with a smiling nominee who refuses to answer obviously reasonable questions posed by obviously unreasonable interrogators.  "Advise and consent" becomes "Duck and Run." 

Or it becomes a "Kabuki dance," music by Judiciary Committee Democrats, but choreography by a White House that will not take "No Pro-lifers Need Apply" for an answer.    

In spite of Biden's folksy chides, Kennedy's hollow, semi-literate taunts, and the empty, ritualized groans of exasperation from other Committee Democrats that they could not see the man behind the robe or the executive privilege, it is the Democrats who are responsible for the demise. 

In the end, the corpse of Useful Judicial Nominations Hearings lies, stinking, on the Democrats' doorstep.  And Biden and his friends killed it. 

Extraordinary

[Enter Bobby]

JOHN:  Why, Bobby, good to see you.  How the heck are you?

BOBBY: Fine and dandy, John. Just flew in from Beckley.  Damn if they didn't name another highway after me.  I keep tellin' em to stop, but....

JOHN: They just love you, Bobby.

BOBBY:  Well, ...

JACK: And, you know I love you like a brother.

BOBBY:  Let me tell you, John, where I come from, you could be my brother and my first cousin and possibly my uncle, all rolled into one.  'Almost heaven' is right.

JOHN:  [laughing] Well, Bobby, you've come at the right time.  We're just putting our heads together trying to save this honorable place from ruin and disgrace--

BOBBY:  Heaven forfend--

JOHN:  And, you might be the only man on the face of the earth to do it.

BOBBY:  Well, most folks don't know this, but I've been here longer than anyone.

JOHN:  Is that right?

BOBBY: It sure is.  I don't think anyone knows as much about the hallowed and immutable customs of this body as myself, humble though I may be.

I'll tell you how it all got started:  Back in '48, I had just come home from a campaign rally for Strom -- God rest his soul -- I was taking off my sheets, and I thought to myself, 'Damn, Bobby, you got to run for Congress one of these days.'  The rest is history.

JOHN: Speaking of Strom, I still think think that Trent got a raw deal -- saying a few nice words to an old man -- my goodness.  What's it come to.

BOBBY:  No doubt in my mind.  But -- you know -- we had to chew him up and spit him out.  It had to be. But, you know, I went ahead and sent Trent and Tricia a card on their last anniversary.

JOHN:  Well, Bobby,  that's why I love and trust you.  That's why I think you'd always act in good faith.

BOBBY:  No question about it, John.  But, you know, I just couldn't abide this colored woman they put up for a judge.  If she isn't an Aunt Jemima, I don't know what is.   

It's like I told this gal they got down at the State Department -- I told her, 'Honey, in my day, you'd have a kerchief on your head and be scrubbing my floor.  So, don't go coming onto the floor of my house and start saying anything but 'Yes sir' or 'No sir'. "

JOHN: Well, Bobby, I know what your saying, but ....

BOBBY: Now, don't get me wrong.  I know some mighty fine colored folk. I got one taking care of the grounds back home.  And, I got one who's my maid here in town -- matter of fact, I think her name's Jemima -- and, I'll tell you what, she's got a daughter who would knock your socks off, as they say.

JOHN:  That so?

BOBBY: The God's truth.  Now, I know why old Strom had his way with 'em.

JOHN:  Hard to keep that man down.

BOBBY:  You got that right.  But, listen here John, to save this august body, I think we could do a deal. We just need to allow a filibuster if the situation is "extraordinary".

JOHN:  Well, Bobby, some folks may wonder what that means.

BOBBY:  Why, just what it's always meant.  But, you know, you'll have to get your boys in line here.  Like that youngster who's coming this way who doesn't seem to know his head from his-- [enter Lindsey]

JOHN: Lindsey!  Speak of the devil!  We were just talking about you.

LINDSEY:  Well, hey there fellas.  Howdy do!  Gee willikers, I'm just so honored to be--

JOHN: Say, Lindsey,  I'll catch up with you in just a second.  Bobby & I were just finishing up.

LINDSEY:  Goodness me, I'm happy to oblige, fellas. [departs]

BOBBY: [leaning closer]  Isn't that the SOB who tried to take Willy down?

JOHN:  Well, now, Bobby... remember we helped you out on that one.   You recall -- that whole Profiles In Courage thing.

BOBBY:  Now, dammit, John!  Don't get me started on that got-dam papist!

JOHN: Sorry, Bobby.  My memory no where's near as good as yours.   I'm just saying, take it easy on the youngster. 

BOBBY:  Well... alright.  But, by God John -- a man from the South! -- by God, he of all should know you can't keep a Southern man down.

JOHN:  Well, you're right, you're right; but, we're bringing him around.  We may need to shoot some money down to the Palmetto State to ease the pain.

BOBBY:  And, listen John:  maybe we can shake loose some dollars for another racetrack over there in the hunt country.

JOHN: We need every penny we can get.  Why, just a few weeks ago, Jeanne and I had trouble getting into the Gold Cup.  It's gotten so damn crowded.

BOBBY:  But, no gambling.

JOHN: Never. 

By the way, that reminds me:  I want you to come out to Atoka next chance you get.  I've got a few colts I'd like you to see.  I'm thinking of running them up in Charlestown next season.

BOBBY: I'll be sure to get up there. 

And, remember now, "Honor", "Trust", and "Good Faith."

Old Jack Ketch

Michael Schiavo hired Ronald Cranford, M.D., a neurologist, to examine his estranged wife Terri a few years back, and he kept him on as one of Terri's physicians. Dr. Cranford's testimony led to the judgment that Terri was in a "persistent vegetative state." It is now widely reported that Dr. Cranford has been a long-time "right-to-die" activist, associated with the Hemlock Society (peopled by such folks as Derek Humphry and Jack Kevorkian) and "Choices In Dying" (successor to the Euthanasia Society of America). He calls himself "Dr. Humane Death." This report put me in mind of an excellent article on this "movement" of four years ago, which mentions Dr. Cranford, as well as a verse from the archives on the original "Dr. Death.".

* * * * *

Life is death and death is life:
Hug the children, kiss the wife,
Gather round the kin and friend,
Seal the will and make an end.
Now, for all the world a wretch,
Hand your hat to old Jack Ketch.

Call the guy from Michigan—
Surgeon, healer, handyman,
Gray and speckled, mean and lank—
Bid him bring his CO tank,
(Who in Dearborn would have thought,
What combustion here has wrought.)

Check the settings, fit the cask,
Pull the lever, don the mask,
Breathe the fumes of sweet exhaust;
All the world goes dim and lost.
Now, upon the couch you stretch,
Grasp the hand of old Jack Ketch.

Bulging eyes and ringing ears
(Devils of these hundred years);
Rapid pulse and vertigo
(Adolf, Idi, Uncle Joe...);
Pounding heart and throbbing head
(Hundred million people dead).

Twitching frame and bluish lip;
Close the lids and loose the grip.
All the world is short of breath,
Choking in the age of death:
Now, upon the couch you stretch,
Die in arms of old Jack Ketch.

(Stop the lever, pop the cork,)
(Raise a glass to Doc Kevork.)