"The president is a study in intelligence, thoughtfulness and the ability to articulate and express himself in a clear and concise manner. " Thomas Frisbie, Sun Times Editorial Writer
Long Tom Frisbie is consistent and the Sun Times always delivers lip-service to citizen-taxpayers and rump munches for the oligarchs who ascended in 2008, blazed wildly and pop-fizzled into irrelevance on November 8th.
Cook County, the soil that seeded, cultivated and harvested the Obama Age Apogee( 2008-2016) that included the rise and fall of Pat Quinn and Rahm Emanuel, remains unaffected by the events, the messages and the spirit caused the Progressive Apogee to fall.
Like the Chicago Tribune ( Bruce Dold ed.), the Sun Times pretends that Obama ruled Camelot, when it fact it was merely Hollywood Squares.
Unlike Tom Frisbie, or Bruce Dold, I have not been anything but underwhelmed by Barack Obama, from my first encounter with him at Woods Funds, through his hack-work as a pass-along seat occupier in the Illinois and U.S. Senate and his rather sad Presidency.
I remember more than a few of these public moments. when Barack Obama truly revealed exactly who he happens to be - kind of a dope:
Then there was this valediction for a Mass Murderer.
" At this time of Fidel Castro’s passing, we extend a hand of friendship to the Cuban people. We know that this moment fills Cubans - in Cuba and in the United States - with powerful emotions, recalling the countless ways in which Fidel Castro altered the course of individual lives, families, and of the Cuban nation. History will record and judge the enormous impact of this singular figure on the people and world around him.
For nearly six decades, the relationship between the United States and Cuba was marked by discord and profound political disagreements. During my presidency, we have worked hard to put the past behind us, pursuing a future in which the relationship between our two countries is defined not by our differences but by the many things that we share as neighbors and friends - bonds of family, culture, commerce, and common humanity. This engagement includes the contributions of Cuban Americans, who have done so much for our country and who care deeply about their loved ones in Cuba.
Today, we offer condolences to Fidel Castro's family, and our thoughts and prayers are with the Cuban people. In the days ahead, they will recall the past and also look to the future. As they do, the Cuban people must know that they have a friend and partner in the United States of America." President Obama upon the death of a Dictator
Today, at Mass I thought about a story my late wife related to me. Mary was an art teacher. She told me a story that is probably apocryphal, but passed from one teacher to her.
An Art Teacher gave her class the opportunity to draw and color whatever they wanted. The guys did dinosaurs eating jet fighters and the most of the girls smiling studies of themselves outside of their homes. One little girl who did not care for art at all perked up and excitedly went to work.
The teacher walked over and asked, "Molly, what are you going to draw?"
"God." was the answer.
The teacher said, " People don't know what God looks like, Molly."
Molly continued, " They will."
Art only works for the childlike. Michealangelo, Duccio, Dali and Mary's Molly were all as children, like George Bernard Shaw whose death resulted from a fall from a ladder while pruning an apple tree.
You will never hear of Bob Costa, Chris Matthews, or Tom Frisbie doing the same.
Art gives us meaning in the same way faith directs our actions. Belief in nothing requires nothing of us - YOLO notwithstanding.
Read books; not the New York Times Review of Books. Enjoy a musical and not make a statement by gushing over Hamilton.
We will not find comfort among hacks. We will not find meaning among hacks. We can go very far towards meaning, by being like Molly.
We can study the childlike musings of Dr. Samuel Johnson who wrote the most prophetic study of the Obama Apogee in his poem London, 1738 : An Imitation of Juvenal's Sixth Satire.
Since Worth, he cries, in these degen'rate Days,Wants ev'n the cheap Reward of empty Praise;In those curst Walls, devote to Vice and Gain,Since unrewarded Science toils in vain;Since Hope but sooths to double my Distress,And ev'ry Moment leaves my Little less;While yet my steady Steps no Staff sustains,And Life still vig'rous revels in my Veins;Grant me, kind Heaven, to find some happier Place,Where Honesty and Sense are no Disgrace;Some pleasing Bank where verdant Osiers play,Some peaceful Vale with Nature's Paintings gay;Where once the harass'd Briton found Repose,And safe in Poverty defy'd his Foes;Some secret Cell, ye Pow'rs, indulgent give.Let —— live here, for —— has learn'd to live.Here let those reign, whom Pensions can inciteTo vote a Patriot black, a Courtier white;Explain their Country's dear-bought Rights away,And plead for Pirates in the Face of Day;With slavish Tenets taint our poison'd Youth,And lend a Lye the confidence of Truth.
from London 1738 by Samuel Johnson
I must remember to turn to Art and take the journalists for poisoners of Youth that they be - people who will never fall out of an apple tree.
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