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The Rev. Jesse Jackson’s one-time-only offer last week to perform soprano surgery on Barack Obama, without billing him, still was being rejected as late as yesterday by Mr. Obama. Mr. Jackson, equally, was being rejected by the Obama camp. This makes two statements about the Democratic nominee: He does not change his mind on every subject, and he still yearns to sing bass in a church choir.
Do you suppose the Rev. Irreverent, known for his raw language, was auditioning for the pastorate of the presently church-less Mr. Obama’s next church? Hopefully, the building will contain a confessional and fulltime father confessor, who is half-white, half-black, half-Hispanic, which adds up to one whole person in fuzzy liberal math.
I was shocked, and offended, the day after the Rev. Irreverent’s newest self-generated controversy was exposed to find the Reverend’s vulgar, and exact, words in the Los Angeles Times and other morning newspapers across America, with the exception of The New York Times. But the seat next to me was empty, and so were most others. Hardly anyone else seemed to notice, much less object.
Civility and integrity became less fashionable, and traditional standards melted into jelly, when the internet began supplanting them as reliable sources of news.
The recently deceased boor George Carlin, who never quite attained maturity, was memorialized for his long-running gag about “Seven Words You Never Can Say on Television.” But his edginess, which his far left friends re-sold as courage, deservedly kept him from becoming a front line star.
Why, Thank You
I was walking through huge glass doors at one of the Sony buildings last week, and a middle-aged woman was 15 feet behind me. I paused and held the door, which my parents taught me to do for all adults, but especially woman, when I was 6 years old. The woman seemed overwhelmed. She was effusive in her gratitude, remarked that she wished her 19-year-old nephew had witnessed the scene, and she still was raving as our paths diverged. The Post Office tells me I am one of only two persons in Culver City who continues to purchase post cards long after email speeded up the process. But surely traditional etiquette remains in vogue.
Rudimentary manners, especially toward old people and women, should never pass out of style, even if the hysterical, dishonest rape-baiters among them cry out against courtliness.
Where Do You Stand, Sir?
The Public Editor of The New York Times monitored a brief, ephemeral debate yesterday over whether the Rev. Potty Mouth’s raw words should have
been reprinted in a newspaper read by young people and other vulnerable types. Disagreeing with his employer, the Public Editor said yes, and mostly quoted chaps who agreed with him, including a left-wing law professor (is there any other kind?) and ex-Timesman David Remnick, the editor of The New Yorker. Both agreed that whatever crudities people use in everyday lives should be exactly represented in print. It should be noted you will not likely find the law prof at church services or Mr. Remnick in a synagogue.
For the only time this year, I concur with the Times’ Executive Editor Bill Keller: “We don’t want to be leading the charge to a coarser public discourse,” he said. “We want to err on the side of civility. If occasionally that makes us seem squeamish or square, I can live with that.”
Calling My Secretary
Murgatroyd, take a memo: Call Lost and Found. Tell them we have a lefty, Mr. Keller, who makes sense. Do they want us to put him in the main display window? And, here is a leftover from the 4th of July: What do they want us to do about the latest lie that Mr. Obama repeated about his America-hating mommy. Not a bad actor himself, Mr. Obama tells gullible crowds of boys and girls that his mommy read him the Declaration of Independence when he was 4 years old ? Right. No fib too gross. At the same time I, as a 4-year-old, was reciting the Federalist Papers, from memory, for my pre-school classmates.
