One more for the Rose Garden

U.S. President Eisenhower was an experienced writer.

He once remarked to Arthur Larson: “You know that General MacArthur got quite a reputation as a silver-tongued speaker when he was in the Philippines.  Who do you think wrote his speeches?  I did.”

Both Larson and Emmet Hughes, who worked with President Eisenhower on speeches, attested to his skill with words.

At his weekly presidential press conferences, however, Ike could be incomprehensible whenever he wanted to be.  He was a masterly performer.  He went to these conferences knowing exactly what he planned to say and what he intended to avoid saying by employing vague and evasive language.

In May 1954, when the Republic of China threatened to occupy some islands in the Formosa Straits, the State Department was worried about public reaction to anything the President might say about the crisis.

“Mr. President,” press secretary James Hagerty told Ike just before his weekly press conference, “some of the people in the State Department say that the Formosa Strait situation is so delicate that no matter what question you get on it, you shouldn’t say anything at all.”

“Don’t worry, Jim,” said Ike.  “If that question comes up, I’ll just confuse them.”

And in 150 carefully chosen words he did just that.

— from Eisenhower: Portrait of the Hero by Peter Lyon (Boston, 1975), page 641.

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Your bonus…

In July 1923, [President Herbert] Hoover wrote a few powerful paragraphs for President Harding’s Independence Day address, announcing the voluntary abolition by industry of the twelve-hour day and the eight-four-hour week.  His language was so different from the rest of the speech that Harding stumbled over the passage when reading it.  While the audience was applauding the announcement, Harding whispered to Hoover, who was sitting on the platform, “Damn it, Hoover, why don’t you write the same English as I do?”

— from Herbert Hoover: A Biography, by Eugene Lyons (Garden City, N.Y., 1964), page 167.

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Last, but certainly not least, at least, the last:

When [Franklin D.] Roosevelt was getting his Cabinet together, labor leaders suggested several men for the post; but he appointed Frances Perkins instead.

She was the first woman to serve in a President’s Cabinet.

According to a story circulating in Washington [D.C.], Mrs. Roosevelt’s commiserated with her husband over the bad hour he must have had with the labor leaders when he told them he had already made up his mind to appoint Perkins.

“Oh, that’s all right,” FDR was said to have replied, “I’d rather have trouble with them for an hour than trouble with you for the rest of my life!”

— from Eleanor and Franklin by Joseph P. Lash (New York, 1971), page 608.

My brother in-law’s mother’s needlepoint artwork

A few weeks ago, my brother in-law’s family graciously treated us to a Christmas morning country breakfast.

I probably gained several pounds that day but the weight was well worth the joy of eating the delicious meal.

While we ate, my brother in-law’s mother showed us some of the needlepoint artwork she had completed.

I’ve been racking my brain trying to remember the art style she used.  It was an Oriental word — possibly Japanese…

In any case, my Internet search came up blank so far…

I wish I had photographed the needlepoint pictures on Christmas morning — they were analog (as opposed to computerised/digital) three-dimensional images that fascinate my imagination.

Two points: one past, one future

PAST: We often miss the future right in front of us.  Several decades ago I remember computer programmers using video projectors and projector screens (hidden in the ceiling above their desks when the programmers weren’t using them) as giant, virtual computer screens where multiple GUI windows could be viewed simultaneously, much less expensive than a big-screen computer monitor/TV at the time (and just as effective as long as the window shades were closed and overhead lighting turned off), leaving their desktops clutter-free.

FUTURE: Now that gesture-based electronic device interaction is becoming the norm, will we see QWERTY keyboard “air typing” contests in the future that will be like the “air guitar” contests of old?

A Four-Leaf Clover Afore Cleaving Lover, Revisited

“May you have the hindsight to know where you have been,
And the foresight to know where you are going,
And the insight to know when you have gone too far.”

— An Irish blessing

There is a certain echo in this room when I know my neighbour’s rolling his rubbish bin to the road.

A hollow sound that bounces, like thunder rumbling underground.

Then, a measured silence.

Finally, an internal combustion engine cranks us and the neighbour’s not long in the driveway before he rumbles and bounces off to parts unknown.

I have heard this set of sounds for nearly my whole life, in more than one country, in American, Canadian, English, German and Irish suburban tracts, as if the Earth’s rotation depended on it.

Today, my neighbour is the example I want to use to remind myself, as I often do, about the consequences of the parallel storyline in this blog.

On the tellie recently, one man verbally barked at the English host of the show about the threats to American liberty that the British invasion — a sort of silent cultural revenge by the Brits on the Americans for losing the East Coast of the North American continent to a bunch of refined and undignified revolutionaries a couple of centuries ago — has slowly eroded the natural rights and freedoms enumerated in the Declaration of Independence and the U.S. Constitution.

We could build upon this verbal redeclaration and upset the apple cart from which our mix of freedom-loving Ruralites, Urbanskis, Suburbanians, Entitlementists and Provisionists feeds with little fear of an unstable economy, society and government.

Is my neighbour a sheep ready for shearing, happy to walk the fields, thinking it has the freedom to pick whatever grass it wants to eat, subconsciously depending on fences and shepherds to protect it from harm?

But where does the lamb meat in gyros come from?

Is my neighbour like the rabbits in Watership Down who were unaware of their impending doom?

What others lessons from literature and history may I draw conclusions from?

Do Native Americans celebrate the same freedom/right-enumerating documents that U.S. citizens do?

When a system has temporary representatives who are demonised by one group or another revolving in and out of public consciousness, can we build fury into enough citizens to overturn the system itself because the representatives are never in place long enough to incite wrath against them as symbolic crooked/corrupt leaders worth taking down?

In other words, where is the moral imperative?

What is the concrete intersection of security and freedom that blocks our civilisation from truly prospering?

When is violent opposition by the minority justified to save the majority from its dull, blasé, safely-corraled lifestyle(s)?

What about when that minority is fighting against tyranny of the global economy which acts like a conformist Urbanski monster eating up freedom-loving Ruralites like there’s no tomorrow?

There are still places where you can step off the grid, so to speak, but is it as easy to grow and sell your food in the marketplace to support your grid-free living (after all, you probably have to pay taxes to some entity that claims protection of your land) like when local bartering was the norm rather than today’s global economies of scale that make small-scale farming seem less competitive than it used to be?

What exactly is the freedom-loving minority going after?

What would a new Declaration of Independence look like?

How can a group of people as diverse as seven billion of us be convinced that the current system where we live and which we actively support — with rubbish bins, cars, roads, houses, adult/children daycare, cashless transactions, security cameras and precrime units that arrest children for expressing their anger in creative, noncriminal ways  — is dangerous for us in the longterm?

If you observe some of the stuff that passes as art these days, there’s plenty of freedom to express yourself, regardless of function, utility or economic viability of the art in the global economy, so I can’t see that the “New World Order” is suppressing freedom of expression in that sense.

You can appear on national television and make all sorts of crazy comments, garnering a loyal following and a multimillion-dollar lifestyle.

You can become an international sensation on the Internet overnight.

I’m willing to listen to a group that claims it has been trampled on by society at large but I need hard, concrete facts to analyse and support my willingness to take that group’s claims to the general public for consideration.

Otherwise, I have planets to populate and solar systems to explore where new groups will have to learn to live with one another and their autonomous robotic counterparts in the same old, new ways as before.

More precious presidential precedental presentiments

Once, when U.S. President Martin Van Buren was receiving guests at a White House levee, Henry Clay sidled up to him and whispered that it must be pleasant to be surrounded by so many friends.

“Well,” said Van Buren cautiously, “the weather is very fine.”

— from The American Talleyrand: The Career and Contemporaries of Martin Van Buren, by Holmes Alexander (New York, 1935), p. 406.

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When Congress was discussing independence, according to a story Thomas Jefferson told a friend in his old age, meetings were held near a livery-stable, and the meeting hall was besieged by flies.

The delegates wore short breeches and silk stockings; while they talked they also busily lashed the flies from their legs with their handkerchiefs.

The flies were so vexatious, Jefferson said, that the delegates finally decided to sign the Declaration of Independence at once and get away from the place as quickly as possible.

Jefferson told the story “with much glee,” said the friend; he was amused by “the influence of the flies” on so momentous an event.

— from The Domestic Life of Thomas Jefferson by Sarah N. Robinson (New York, 1871), page 421 n.

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Ronald Reagan turned seventy in February 1981 and joked about his age in a speech at a Washington Press Club dinner.

“I know your organisation was founded by six Washington newspaperwomen in 1919,” he remarked; then, after a slight pause, added: “It seems like only yesterday.”

Middle age, he went on to say, “is when you’re faced with two temptations and you choose the one that will get you home at 9 o’clock.”

And, after quoting Thomas Jefferson’s advice not to worry about one’s age, he exclaimed: “And ever since he told me that, I stopped worrying.”

— “Reagan’s One-Liners,” New York Times, February 6, 1981, page A13.

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President Reagan was famous for his one-liners.  Even in emergencies he preserved his good humour and toss off quip after quip to reassure those around him.  An attempt on his life early in his Presidency left him as calm and unruffled as Theodore Roosevelt had been after a similar attack many years before.

Early in the afternoon of March 30, 1981, a deranged young loner pumped a fusillade of explosive bullets into the President, his press secretary and two law enforcement officers as they were coming out of the Washington-Hilton Hotel.

Reagan was rushed to the hospital with a serious chest wound, but when he was wheeled into the operating room he grinned and told the surgeon: “Please assure me that you are all Republicans!”

“Today,” responded one of the doctors, “we’re all good Republicans, Mr. President.”

A few hours after surgery the President wrote his doctors a note which parodied comedian W.C. Fields: “All in all, I’d rather be in Philadelphia.”

A little later hie sent another note from the intensive-care section to White House aides waiting outside: “Winston Churchill said ‘There’s no more exhilarating feeling than being shot at without result.'”

Two hours later came a third note: “If I had had this much attention in Hollywood, I’d have stayed there.”

— “Reagan Out of Surgery,” Fort Worth Star-Telegram, March 31, 1981, page 2a; “Cooler Reagan Visits with Agent,” ibid., April 5, 1981.

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By spring 1979, when Jimmy Carter visited New Hampshire, his administration was beginning to come under heavy criticism.  When a newswoman in Portsmouth asked him whether his daughter Amy ever bragged about her father’s being President, Carter said, “No, she probably apologizes.”

— “He Can Catch Fire,” Time, CXIII (May 7, 1979), page 19.

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One time while Calvin Coolidge was president of the Massachusetts senate, two Senators got into an angry debate during which one told the other to go to hell.  Furious, the latter called on Coolidge to do something about it.

“I’ve looked up the law, Senator,” Coolidge told him, “and you don’t have to go there.”

— from Meet Calvin Coolidge by Edward C. Lathem (Brattleboro, Vt., 1960), page 7.

Back to the drawing board again for the very first bored time

In the mail yesterday I received a book called IDRAWCOMICS SKETCHBOOK & REFERENCE GUIDE by Matt Marrocco, which finally came because I financially backed the creation and publication of the book through KickStarter.

I also received a BIC pen with the IDRAWCOMICS logo as well as an IDRAWCOMICS sticker — better late than never, or better slate than clever.

I am no famous comic strip, graphic novel or webcomic creator but I like to draw doodles.

Time to put my doodling to the test of time and see if I can convert my text sketches (i.e., blog entries), which are readable by the blind, into something with more visual impact while keeping the text blog entries for my blind readers.

If you tell stage performers to break a leg, do you tell comic sketchers to break a lead?

Compromise

The U.S. government agreed to a compromise with the powerful National Rifle Association in secret negotiations earlier this week.

U.S. citizens may keep their guns on one condition — that they use their weapons repeatedly during open hunting season.

The condition contained an exception — the hunting season is specified only for the termination of those with incurable violent tendencies, even latent ones that no person, chiefly trained psychiatric professionals, can see.

The exception contained a retainer — all U.S. citizens, regardless of the exercise of the inalienable right to gun ownership, must submit themselves for mental health examinations in accordance with the obliquely obscure rules embedded within the Affordable Care Act (a/k/a Obamacare), the citizens’ mental health scores published in a public database for all to see and comment upon in social media using bullying/shaming jargon.

A subparagraph of the exception specified a specificity: hunters must select three top choices for a prime hunting blind location and petition for a spot in the lottery to get their best choice.

In the past 24 hours since the announcement of the agreement, turns out the most popular places requested for hunting blind permits are in the vicinity of celebrity rehab retreats, liberal talk show host gatherings and progressive political brouhahas.  Anyone selecting shopping malls, theatres and/or schools have already been crosschecked against their mental health scores and randomly added to prime hunting blind locations themselves in hopes of making it to the top of this year’s Darwin Awards.

In politics, nothing changes like change

At one Cabinet meeting during Ike’s [Dwight D. Eisenhower’s] Presidency, Secretary of the Treasury George Humphrey told the President that the national debt might rise above the legal limit.

“Who will have to go to jail if that happens?” asked Ike.

“We will have to go to Congress,” Humphrey reminded him.

“Oh,” cried Ike, “that’s worse!”

from Eisenhower: The Inside Story by Robert J. Donovan (New York, 1956), p. 144, quoted in Presidential Anecdotes by Paul F. Boller, Jr. (1981, printed in the United States of America by Kingsport Press, Inc., Kingsport, Tennessee; set in Times Roman), p. 297.