Posted by
strikemepinkifidontthink.com on Friday, January 02, 2009 1:25:43 PM
THERE’LL BE SOME CHANGES MADE?
As 2008 fades away into the twilight and everyone tries to remember what it was all about I feel myself sharing in the incredulity. Did we really have an election campaign that went on for two years? Did we really elect a guy who’s gone into hiding on a remote Pacific island? Will he and his predecessor continue to avoid each other until January 20th? Don’t they have anything at all to talk about? Not even about the best place for a hideaway office? Where you can snatch a smoke? Or maybe even a nip of some good old Kentucky cureall? Or have a little poker session with the boys? Other presidents have done it and passed the word along. But only after making personal contact with the new guy and testing his discretion about such things. It can’t be done a continent away.
Well, that’s one for Obama and Bush to work out between themselves when they get around to it. It won’t keep me awake nights. There are things closer to home to think about. One is the condition of New York, where I live. I try to keep this page of mine light and easy and free from agitation about the terrible state of things in general. I’ve used a lot of space writing about the outrageous frauds that keep surfacing all around me without getting outraged by them myself. But that doesn’t apply when one is writing about bloodshed. It just ain’t funny, that’s all. And it’s flowing again in NYC. 2008 is going out in a haze of blood. The New York Post reports eight murders in the city in the last three days. In several other cases victims are in “critical condition” and “clinging to life.” These phrases must be pre-set at the Post, they are used so often.
The courts aren’t helping with the problem. Two juries recently acquitted cop-killers of the most serious charge against them -- the killing, although they were found guilty on lesser charges. But there is no sign of a move in New York to do away with unanimous jury verdicts and substitute a finding of guilt by a 10-2 vote. The cranks and flakes who now constitute the “holdouts“ who prevent juries from exercising their common sense and returning intelligent verdicts would be stripped of their power to pervert justice.
In the meantime we’re obviously not transitioning from a glorious 2008 to an even more glorious ‘09. A new president, no matter how refreshing his fans find him to be, won’t change that. He has indicated this already by staffing his administration with a large number of retreads from previous governments. It reminds me of a book that was once popular, “A Treasury of the Familiar.” You can say that again.
At least they know where the bodies are buried. They’ll know the temptations to avoid as well. If some contractor offers to rebuild their house for free because he happens to have a lot of building material on hand that will just go to waste otherwise, they’ll send him on his way with a flea In his ear. If he offers to introduce them to a lonely lady who’s just dying to meet people like them who’re a part of the exciting Washington scene, they’ll reject the temptation out of hand and go home to their wives and kiddies instead. As for excursions hither and yon with all expenses paid, they will go begging in the Obama White House. A new day is dawning. Too bad the governor didn’t get the message.
I have dug up a poem which covers the subject. It’s called “The Reformer.”
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All grim and soiiled and brown with tan,
I saw a Strong One in his wrath
Smiting the godless shrines of man
Along his path.
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Fraud from his secret chambers fled
Before the sunlight bursting in;
Sloth drew her pillow o’er her head
To drown the din.
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“Twas but the ruin of the bad, -
The wasting of the wrong and ill.
Whate’er of good the old time had
Was living still.
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Calm grew the brow of him I feared;
The frown which awed me passed away,
And left behind a smile which cheered
Like breaking day.
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When the doomed victim in his cell
Had counted out the weary hours,
Glad schoolgirls, answering to the bell
Came crowned with flowers.
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Grown wiser for the lesson given,
I fear no longer for I know
That where the share is deepest driven,
The best fruits grow.
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The outworn rite, the old abuse,
The pious fraud transparent grown,
The good held captive to the use
Of wrong alone.
The outworn rite, the old abuse,
He pious fraud transparent grown,
The good held captive to the use
Of wrong alone.
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