I love this piece from Jay Nordlinger, on how the Dalai Lama stunned Cambridge, Massacusetts with the news that George W. Bush is a good man, and one he loves:
Audience member: “Can you give us an example of a leader we should look up to as a positive influence?”
Dalai Lama (after thinking for a few seconds): “President Bush. I met him personally and liked him very much. He was honest and straightforward, and that is very important. I may not have agreed with all his policies, but I thought he was very honest and a very good leader.”
Nordlinger has more and you’ll want to read it all, particularly Jay’s closing remarks.
Now, look, I have had a great upsetment of a day, over here, and while I was trying to pray my way out of it, I heard a wee voice -it sounded a little like my dear Auntie Lillie, but the Holy Spirit can use anything- and the wee voice said, “child, have a glass of wine and dilate those veins and arteries before you have a stroke.”
So -under obedience- I’ve had a glass of wine. At threesomething in the afternoon. The problem, of course, is that I have had only coffee today, not so much as a scrap of dry toast, so. It’s hitting me like your basic ton of bricks.
I am not a great drinker. A great eater, unfortunately, yes, but I am not a great drinker. The occasional Guinness of a Sunday afternoon, that is Lizzie. Wine hits me like…there is a line in The Philadelphia Story, where Mike (MacCauley) Connor, aka James Stewart (I love!) says to C.K. Dexter Haven, aka Cary Grant (aka Archie Leach; I love!), “whiskey is a great slap on the back, and champagne is a mist before your eyes.”
And red wine? Ho-ho-hardy and giddy life! Or a sort of mild goofiness. I am a poor Irishwoman and cannot hold my drink. A single glass of very good Rodney Strong cabernet is making me blotto. I think I will not bother opening the bottle of suspect-sounding Long Island Red Table Wine.
So, with that said, let’s have a look around the world as represented by the blogosphere and see what is going on, outside of the Dalai Lama’s love for Dubya.
I heart Dalai Lama. And presidential swagger should not be freaking ideological. It’s always good.
I do not know if I like Twittering. There is sort of an “oh, look, a shiny pebble” aspect to it that does nothing at all to help my ADHD. I am going to see how that goes. Right now Fausta is all over my twitter thingy and her drawing is scaring me in a sort of Tim Burton-meets-goth way. Go ‘way, scary Fausta! Be a nice Fausta!
Souterstuff: A an apparent 14-year old has suggested that Obama appoint Anita Hill to the SCOTUS.
A wee roundup here.
I read, somewhere, the suggestion that Michelle Obama, being a lawyer, would be “the dream” Justice. Is she still a lawyer? I don’t think you have to be a lawyer to be a SCOTUS Justice, which is why I support Frank’s suggested nominee of Mr. T:
Mr. T does not put up with jibba-jabba, which I think is important for a justice. He is very tough, but he is also compassionate (he often pities fools). Now, I don’t know Mr. T’s political stances, but one can only assume he’s not a liberal because he’s definitely not a sissy.
Also, I still insist -in fact I’m afraid I really must demand- that I be put in charge of Homeland Security in place of Janet Napolitano. Despite my inability to drink wine. This is actually a strength in my favor; I shall forego wine to keep the country safe. I never liked cocktail parties anyway, even though I am supposed to go to one, tonight. Awful. There was a layoff at my husband’s job and they’re having a “happy hour sendoff” of people. Do I want to go, no. So you see, if I were running Homeland Security, I could say, “dear, I understand that you want me to go, but I must protect and serve the nation!”
Speaking of serving the nation, Andrew C. McCarthy says, sorry pal, you’re not using me for your fig leaf, like you tried to use Mary Ann Glendon! He’s not going to give the Obama Administration cover (by saying they’ve reached out and consulted with the likes of Andrew C. McCarthy) when they roll out their next round of weird and dubious notions of how to protect the nation. You know, like umm…let’s tell everyone how we collect information and not make a fuss when ABC News outs undercover people who are vital to our national security, as though outting is now, suddenly, a “good” thing, when a few mere months ago it was very, very bad, indeed.
Politics is a mean, ugly, miserable business. No wonder so few good people want to serve.
I have not fully formed my thoughts on torture, yet. I think I am against it but with this one exception: if I have a choice between saving say, 5 million lives in a nuke-contaminated Chicago or being able to say, “but at least we didn’t waterboard that guy,” I am inclined to think I would go for torture. The 5 million might still die, it’s true, but at least I won’t have to answer for standing idly by and watching it so that my morals might remain intact. I will take the chance that my moral failing in that instance will simply join my other moral failings in life, and then God and I will work that stuff out.
Actually, you have to work out your moral failing, in either case, don’t you? If you torture, you have to work it out. If you allow millions to die because you’re “too good” to torture, that’s another moral failing you have to work out. And what is the moral failing? Not trusting that God will help you work that out.
Maybe when you don’t have an idea that you and God can work out your moral failings, you have a tougher time dealing with them? I don’t know. But “who saves a life saves the world, entire” may come into play here. I don’t want to kill the guy I’m torturing. But I want to save 5 million lives.
So, how is that stimulus working out for us? I can tell you that a fug-ugly pair of $540.00 sneakers are not in my budget, this year. Hey doesn’t that remind you a little of Evita, when Eva Peron is on the balcony of the Casa Rosada, saying, “I am only a simple woman who lives to serve Peron in his n oble crusade to rescue his people! I was once as you are now and I promise you this we will take these riches from the Oligarchs only for you–for all of you! One day you too will inherit these treasures!”
Not that Michelle Obama is Evita. Although I know it is unpopular to say on the right, and her “for the first time in my life I’m proud to be an American” was yes, offensive, I rather like her. I like the fact that she’ll wear fug-ugly $540 sneakers out in public while we’re in a deep recession and facing a deficit of trillions upon trillions of dollars, or that she’ll wear patent-leather boots while “digging a garden.” It shows we have come a long way in deciding what it is that labels White House residents as “out of touch” with ordinary Americans. It is important that we move forward, in all events.
I love this magnificent exposition on the myths of Catholic Art. DO go read it. Print it out and read it somewhere when you can relax. Just a great piece, beautifully written, and thanks to Elizabeth Anne for reminding me of it, in an offhand sort of way.
There is some very good writing here, some very neat turns of phrase. Don’t know if I agree with all of it, but some neat turns of phrase.
Do you yearn for a holy place? I do. Oh, look, this Roman Catholic Deacon got healed through the intercessory prayers of Newman. And look, a very insightful observation about things shallow and unreal.
Hate Crime Laws: I don’t like them. They try to make a murder even more murdery in order to serve a whole politically agenda. One cannot legislate niceness. One cannot legislate “not hating each other.” Talk about your overreach.
Elder Son: Just got a thing in the mail from his college, asking how he’s doing out in the great-big-real world. He scrawled across the questionnaire, “UNEMPLOYED. DESPERATE. SEND HELP!” And he sent it back. I love him. I am so glad we let him be an eccentric super-genius, just as he is, and didn’t change him or anesthetize him with ritalin (although I was tempted once or twice).
Speaking of sons: Buster had to take an IQ test and other things for school. You’re not going to believe this. Turns out he is a super-genius just like his brother! He can join Mensa, if he wants to. But he still can’t spell. Sent me a text: I KNEW I WAS A GENEOUS. That damned whole-language program!
I love Bl. Pier Giorgio Frassati and I put my super-genius sons and super-genius future daughter-in-law under his prayerful watch. All they need are decent jobs!
The Greatest Jazz Albums of All Time: to which I respond, Pshaw! Any list that does not include Miss Ella Fitzgerald and the Jimmy Jones Trio and others and the album recorded at their gig at Carnegie Hall (entitled The Greatest Jazz Concert Ever and man, and damn near maybe it was) is an incomplete list and I raise my nose to it.
Okay, I think I am done. The wine is wearing off and I must be good. Must go put on make up and girl clothes, now. Yuck.
WELCOME: Instapundit readers, and thanks, Glenn, for the link. But I don’t think I need any more drinks; that one hit me pretty hard. And yeah, while we’re talking about it, yep, I still miss Bush. Please look around at the new First Things digs, folks…and please bear with us – we’re still hitting a few transitional bumps in the road. Thanks!