I've dissed a lot of Presidents in my time. Richard Nixon? Used car salesman. Ronald Reagan? Couldn't stand the man. Dubya? The name tells you everything. Read more about Dissing the President
I know not; am I my brother's keeper?
In the Old Testament story of Cain and Abel, this was Cain's answer to God when God asked where his brother was. The true answer, of course, was that Abel was dead, because Cain had just killed him.
The answer itself, however, has resonated down the years not as an alibi to murder, but as a reproof against those who refuse all responsibility for the good of humanity.
Or, as many modern-day conservatives would put it, why should healthy, provident me have to pay for unhealthy, improvident others? Read more about Jeepers Keepers
Nicholas Kristof posted a column this morning about how we understand each other or, more precisely, how we don't.
I agree with him when he suggests that we liberals should try harder to understand our conservative fellow citizens, but I disagree when he says that they already understand us.
I don't think so. Read more about Willful Misunderstandings
"I don't care what you say about me as long as you spell my name right."
Attributed to George M. Cohan, it's the first rule of politics. Or the first one I was taught, anyway.
In a long-forgotten political campaign on the South Side of Chicago back in 1960-something I worked on a press release for my now long-forgotten candidate in which I outlined the misrepresentations of his opponent and refuted them with the facts of ours. Read more about Careful with those facts, Eugene!
Once upon a time, in a now long-abandoned schoolyard, I got the better of a boy who was irritating me in some long-forgotten way. I wasn't good at fisticuffs, but (and this must have been the 4th or 5th grade) I found I could do pretty well if I grabbed my opponent by one arm and started swinging him around. I could get going pretty fast, too, and then I would let go. Ta Da! Irritant disposed of. Read more about The Schoolyard
I remember years ago an argument in some classroom or other over the shape of history. Straight line or circular? That is, does history proceed in a straight line, events stringing along one after the other (the highway version) or even piling one atop the other (the ladder version) in some kind of teleological journey to the future? Or do we simply repeat ourselves, over and over again, like a dog chasing its tail, in pursuit of a future that is never reached, our eyes fixed firmly on the forever vanishing promise of that little white tip of the tail. Read more about Running in Circles
I like mine. He's kind, intelligent and funny. He's curious. Not necessarily big ears curious, although that too. But he wants to know stuff. He likes figuring stuff out. He's the community organizer in chief. And if I know anything about community organizers (and I used to pal around with one), they like to get stuff done. Read more about Speaking of Presidents
It's been de rigueur for parents of this last generation to worry about the effects of video games on their children. The violence. The sexism. The increasing isolation of the gamer who sits alone at a console with little need or desire to venture out into the wider world.
As a gamer myself (although the players of World of Warcraft would laugh at me), I have long understood the rubric of "kill 'em all, take all the money." I'm afraid my daughter will be tempted to inscribe it on my tombstone. Good thing I don't plan on having one. Read more about Games