Sunday, January 12, 2025

Night Watchman by Dave Hartley, b. 1970

Night Watchman by Dave Hartley, b. 1970





























Click to enlarge.

It was astonishing how often our esteemed guests hemmed and hawed and got basic facts embarrassingly wrong.

From Magical Sorkinism by The Ivy Exile.  His career was in journalism and he started out with the famous Bill Moyers.  The whole piece is a nice reminiscence of a journalism gone by but it is also a peek behind the scenes at the gap between what is presented versus what was the original input.

As a child of the New Left, I never missed The West Wing: it was irresistible catnip for my adolescent hopes and dreams, and so much more satisfying than whatever was on the news—except for the eloquent public intellectuals on the Bill Moyers show on PBS. Later, as an idealistic policy major at Brown, I was surprised and disappointed to find basically nobody operating on that level.

It was only when I’d lucked into joining the Moyers organization that I began to understand how such Sorkinesque eloquence was manufactured each week—not with deliberate dishonesty, but ever more misleading as years passed and the scene grew shallower.

We’d typically tape on Thursday or Friday mornings to turn around by Friday nights. Being of Bill Moyers’ approximate height, I was tasked with showing up early to fill his chair as gruff union guys set up cameras and lighting. Then, as Bill’s blogger and research assistant, I’d watch live interviews from the control room to highlight quotable moments.

Uncut conversations were eye-opening; it was astonishing how often our esteemed guests hemmed and hawed and got basic facts embarrassingly wrong. And how many came off batshit crazy: one, later an anchor on MSNBC, speculated that Captain Sully’s Miracle on the Hudson—visible from our west side offices—had been God blessing the Obamas.

Drafting the Moyers Blog and promotional listings, I’d sit in with producers and video editors to consult on coalescing broadcasts. They were like wizards, casting away awkwardness and errors to sculpt artful vignettes of the most compelling bits of conversations that often stretched well over an hour or more.

So many of the most rousing clips came from when guests were at their most factually inaccurate, and editors deftly dipped in and out to pull and seamlessly reassemble the very best parts. It was wondrous alchemy, and a privilege to work with super-talented creatives, but the reality of our academic pundits remained the same.

Saturday, January 11, 2025

The Man From Cook’s by Robert Service

The Man From Cook’s
by Robert William Service
 
“You’re bloody right – I was a Red,”
The Man from Cook’s morosely said.
And if our chaps had won the War
Today I’d be the Governor
Of all Madrid, and rule with pride,
Instead of just a lousy guide.

“For I could talk in Councils high
To draw down angels from the sky.
They put me seven years in gaol, –
You see how I am prison-pale . . .
Death sentence! Each dawn I thought
They’d drag me out and have me shot.

“Maybe far better if they had:
Suspense like that can make one mad.
Yet here I am serene and sane,
And at your service to explain
That gory battlefield out there,
The Cité Universitaire.

“See! Where the Marzanillo flows,
The women used to wash our cloths;
And often, even in its flood,
It would be purpled by our blood.
Contemptuous of shot and shell
Our women sang and – fought like hell.

“Deep trenches there ran up and down,
And linked us with the sightless town;
And every morn and every night
We sallied savagely to fight . . .
By yon ravine in broken clad
I shot and killed a soldier lad.

“Such boys they were: methinks that one
Looked to me like my only son.
He might have been; they told my wife
Before Madrid he lost his life.
Sweet Mary! Oh if I but knew
It was not my own son I slew. . . .”

So spoke that man with eye remote
And stains of gravy on his coat;
I offered him a cigarette,
And as he sighed with vain regret,
Said he: “Don’t change your dollars – wait:
I’ll get you twice the market rate.”

History

 

An Insight

 

I see wonderful things

 

Offbeat Humor

 

Data Talks

 

Albion Rose (Glad Day), c 1796 by William Blake

Albion Rose (Glad Day), c 1796 by William Blake (England, 1757-1827)

































Click to enlarge.

The First Amendment rights are first because tyrants hate them the most

I find this astonishing and a testament to the effect of a worldview hermetically sealed off from reality.  The governor of our largest state talking to the president of the United States about a self-caused disaster (the Santa Ana winds are a regular and predictable annual phenomenon, it is the preparation and response which varies.)  In their discussion, their focus settles on how much Americans' First Amendment rights (speech) are causing problems for those responsible for the bad response to the disaster.  
They don't seem to hear themselves.

Newsom wants to deal with people exercising their First Amendment rights because he disagrees with what they are saying and their opinions or because their interpretation of the facts differ from his.  A self-declared totalitarian authoritarian spoken right out loud.   

Meanwhile, our competitive, property-based, First Amendment fueled, free-market economy, enabled with technology, and Classical Liberal wit, is able to produce this kind of instantaneous speech which gets under the skin of autocrats.

























Click to enlarge.