George Washington...time traveler.

                                                              -- Part Two--

About halfway through Washington's farewell address it starts to get spooky. It's as if you have stumbled onto something written by a time traveler. It's like old George somehow was teleported from Mount Vernon into  21st century America, took a look around, then teleported back to 1796 and started wearing out about five quills, furiously scribbling out this amazing speech. How else to explain the timeliness of his warnings?

After warning his future countrymen against enemies of the Union and the pernicious influence of factions, he then ventures into the issue of the bureaucratic state:

" It is important, likewise, that the habits of thinking in a free country should inspire caution in those entrusted with its administration to confine themselves within their respective constitutional spheres, avoiding in the exercise of the powers of one department to encroach upon another. The spirit of encroachment tends to consolidate the powers of all the departments in one and thus to create a real despotism."

Yeah, no kidding!!

Concerning the place of religion and morality among a free nation Washington offers this nugget:

" Let it be simply asked, where is the security for property, for reputation, for life, if the sense of religious obligation desert the oaths which are the instruments of investigation in courts of Justice? And let us with caution indulge the supposition that morality can be maintained without religion...reason and experience both forbid us to expect that national morality can prevail in exclusion of religious principles."

Then, our founding father begins to sound exactly like a regular old father when speaking about the subject of finances:

" As a very important source of strength and security, cherish public credit. One method of preserving it is to use it as sparingly as possible...avoiding the accumulation of debt, not only by shunning occasions of expense, but by vigorous exertions in time of peace to discharge the debts which unavoidable wars have occasioned."

Something tells me that the time traveling Washington never caught a glimpse of our debt clock, because surely the sum of 18 trillion would have literally killed him.

When he finally turns his attention to foreign policy, he begins to get quite worked up:

" Against the insidious wiles of foreign influence( I conjure you to believe me,fellow-citizens), the jealously of a free people ought to be constantly awake.

Whoa, settle down George! But, he wasn't finished. He proceeds to plead with us to avoid entangling alliances...especially with the Europeans:

" Europe has a set of primary interests, which to us have none or a very remote relation. Hence she must be engaged in frequent controversies. Hence therefore it must be unwise in us to implicate ourselves, by artificial ties, in the ordinary vicissitudes of her politics."

Vicissitudes, indeed Mr. President! Substitute Israel or any other Middle Eastern nation for "Europe" in the above paragraph and you've essential got Rand Paul's foreign policy!

George Washington was no saint. He was a slave owner, and as President sometimes failed to follow his own advice. But, he was a great man. One of the things that made him great was that rarest of traits in great public figures...genuine humility. When listening to the various candidates for president speak on the campaign trail, I long to hear from anyone of them something approaching this:

" In reviewing the incidents of my administration, I am unconscious of intentional error, I am nevertheless too sensible of my defects not to think it probable that I may have committed many errors. Whatever they may be, I fervently beseech the Almighty to avert or mitigate the evils to which they may tend. I shall also carry with me the hope that my country will never cease to view them with indulgence and that, after forty-five years of my life dedicated to its service with upright zeal, the faults of incompetent abilities will be consigned to oblivion, as myself must soon be to the mansions of rest."

A true Patriot will find it difficult to read that paragraph without a lump in the throat. God bless you, Mr. President. May we be worthy of the nation born of your tireless efforts. And may those who aspire to lead us in this day learn from the matchless example of your character.

Donald Trump, call your office.

 Pam gave me this book for Valentines Day. And yes, leather bound, gold leaf classic books are very sexy. This one is a collection of every important speech given by anyone in this country's history, which is why it's so thick. It starts with John Hancock's On the Boston Massacre, and ends with Barack Obama's first innaugural address. For a history geek such as myself, this thing is like finding the Holy Grail, it's like a 12 year old boy stumbling across an issue of Playboy, it's like Megan Kelly...beautiful and informative!

Anyway, I've been making my way through this thing slowly, savoring every detail. There's the combative stem winder from Patrick Henry, Give Me Liberty or Give Me Death, and believe me...the dude meant it! There's Samuel Adams' bomb throwing classic, American Independence. You read enough of these founding father Patriots and you'll be ready to gather up all your Downton Abbey DVDs and feed them through a shredder!

Then I ran into the brick wall of George Washington's Farewell Address to the People of the United States. I feel like I had read this once before back in college when I was too ignorant to appreciate it, too clever to understand. Every word is a treasure. Every warning contained in it has proved prescient, each observation wise beyond comprehension. 

The great man starts by voluntarily relinquishing power, something unheard of in the age of kings. After demonstating for us the cornerstone of republican governance, he sets about saying good-bye to the nation he loves and has faithfully served for 45 years of his life. To read his words is to be humbled that such a man as this ever existed, to read his words is to be reminded of how far we have fallen. 

After a couple of pages of genuine humility where he begs the indulgence of his listeners for his many flaws, he sets out with warnings of what he sees as potential pitfalls for the American experiment in self government. First, he warns against anyone or anything that might come against the union. Regional and sectarian interests should be sacrificed for the greater good of unity. Then he rails against the danger of parties, that despicable notion of federalist and republicans, Whigs, and whatever other factions within government that had arisen in his time. Then, out of nowhere I read this:

"This spirit, unfortunately, is inseparable from our nature, having its root in the strongest passions of the human mind. The alternate domination of one faction over another, sharpened by the spirit of revenge natural to party dissension, which in different ages and countries has perpetuated the most horrid enormities, is itself a frightful despotism. The disorders and miseries which result gradually incline the minds of men to seek security and repose in the absolute power of an individual; and sooner or later the chief of some prevailing faction, more able or more fortunate than his competitors, turns this disposition to the purposes of his own elevation on the ruins of public Liberty."

Donald Trump, call your office.

                                            --to be continued--

A New Look

Yesterday I received a complaint from a faithful reader of this blog. "You know that I read your blog every day...but," she began. This introduction is usually followed by a criticism of my many flaws as a writer, including but by no means limited to...my language, conservative politics, liberal politics, too much politics, baseball obsession, too many Lucy references, not enough Lucy references, etc.. But this time the complaint was about optics. "I can hardly read your blog anymore, the words aren't dark enough, the background is too gray or something, it gives me a headache."

My first thought was that perhaps my sister should consider getting her eyes checked. But then it occurred to me that she might not be the only one having this problem since the average age of my readers probably has climbed north of 50. After all, along with the other cruelties of aging comes diminished eyesight. Lucky for all of you, I am married to Pam, who delights in any computer task that requires patience, creativity and...patience. Just before settling down for my Sunday afternoon nap, I gave her my username and password and asked her to "fix it."

What you now see is the results of her labor. I think it looks pretty cool. The parchment paper background is a nice touch, and the type does seem easier to read. She thought to add the liner notes to the book I wrote about my parents, and for reasons unknown to me, attached an unflattering picture of me which takes up half the screen, which I am sure is quite startling to old woman and young children. Nevertheless, it is a vast improvement over the old layout and I sincerely hope you all approve.

Is It Over Yet?

Donald Trump had a terrible week. In perhaps the most conservative place in America, he spent the week calling all of his opponents liars, accused the beloved(in South Carolina) George W. Bush of lying about WMD's, got in a dust up with the Pope, came out as a fan of the individual mandate in Obamacare, and was caught lying about his own opposition to the Iraq war.

Didn't matter. Won anyway. Big.

Meanwhile, in Nevada, Hillary found a way to not totally blow what had been a huge lead a month ago. She eked out another victory over a 74 year old Democratic Socialist, while managing to look as if she had lost. Apparently, blacks are not warming up to the Bern. Perhaps his endless yapping about class and income equality, and his comparative silence about race has convinced blacks that he isn't down for the struggle. But, a Pyrrhic victory is still a victory, so Hillary marches on in her joyless slog towards the nomination.

It's becoming harder and harder to imagine a fall election that doesn't feature Trump v Clinton. On the Democratic side, despite the exuberance of the Sanders faithful, one gets the feeling that Hillary Clinton is simply too diabolical to be stopped by something so hopelessly futile as mere...voters. Amoung Republicans, anti-Trump forces have been reduced to bragging about finishing second more consistently than anyone else, and finding hope in keeping Trump's margin of victory under the crucial 15 point threshold. The people who keep assuring us that at some point Trump will say something truly beyond the pale, have now been proven wrong at least 30 times. 

So, next comes March 1st, Super Tuesday, when I will get the chance to cast a ballot here in Virginia. I will vote for the candidate who has the best shot at defeating Trump, admittedly a long shot. Right
now, I believe that candidate to be Marco Rubio. Although, it will no doubt be difficult to overcome the devastation of Jim Gilmore's withdrawal from the race, I simply can't gather up all my marbles and go home! I'm not gonna lie...if Jim would make an endorsement, it would make this decision a whole lot easier.

Some of you might take exception to my irreverent attitude about all of this. Many of you are all in for a particular candidate and view the proceedings with a much more vested interest and a far greater emotional investment. Others may resent my efforts at humor...don't you know what's at stake??!! And you're right. This is serious. But, at this point in the contest, my defense mechanism of choice is sarcasm, or gallows humor, depending on your perspective. I'll move on to anger and grief later.

"We are gathered here because of one man..."

I was in the midst of an exhausting workout at the gym, dripping with sweat, slugging away on the treadmill when I noticed that the funeral for Antonin Scalia had just started on the television just in front of me. It was closed captioned so I had to read along as the words were typed out at the bottom of the screen. At first it was just ornately dressed priests walking up and down the aisles of the great basilica carrying a richly detailed crucifix of highly polished silver and gold, a black priest out front swaying the thurible back and forth sending gray plumes of incense everywhere. The typist pecked out two musical notes.

Several dignitaries read scripture passages. The other justices were there, the Vice-President, and many of the famous and infamous. Then, the judge's son, Paul Scalia, himself a priest climbed the steps to the pulpit. I wondered how he would eulogize such a brilliant but controversial man, especially with so many of his political opponents in attendance. I thought of the pressure he must have felt. Then he spoke these words:                                                                                                                          

"We are gathered here because of one man. A man known personally to many of us, known only by reputation to even more. A man loved by many, scorned by others. A man known for great controversy and great compassion..... that man of course is Jesus of Nazareth.”

The rest of his words were about the role that faith played in the life of his father. It was tender, well written, warm and touching. But it seldom strayed into mere tribute. This would be a summation of a life of faith, and I can't recall hearing a clearer presentation of the gospel of Christ anywhere, at any time. It was an amazing demonstration of hope and peace. I benefitted just by reading the script at the bottom of the screen, while sweat poured off my nose. Such a strange place to attend church.  

The FBI vs. Apple

http://www.nationalreview.com/article/431491/apples-tim-cook-right-resist-governments-demand

Read this. No, seriously. Read this now.

I have seldom used this blog to promote the work of others, but in this case I am forced to make an exception. When I first read the story of the government's demands of Apple in the case of the San Bernardino terrorist's cellphone, my BS detector went into overdrive. Something about the story gnawed at me, something didn't add up. I mean, other than my knee jerk inclination to get pissed off whenever the federal government starts throwing its weight around trying to bully a member in good standing of the business community, a business in Apple's case which has created more jobs and more wealth than a billion Bernie Sanders could in a hundred lifetimes. But it took Kevin Williamson over at National Review to identify the reason for my unease. 

So, do yourself a huge favor and read this piece then ask yourself this question. Where, after hundreds of billion dollars in spending on security and law enforcement, does the government get the nerve to demand that Apple do its dirty work for them? Tim Cook is worried that this type of technology might fall into the "wrong hands?" Too late. The FBI is the wrong hands.

My Own Private Museum

I'm told that an awful lot can be learned about a man by walking through his library. If, for example, an entire couple of rows is occupied by biographies of Hitler, you might want to look for the nearest exit. Currently there are upwards of 400 books scattered about my house and my office. It has been great fun deciding which of them to reward by placing them in my new library. I'm sure that over the years new ones will be added, and maybe a few that didn't make the first cut will make an appearance at some point down the road. But for now, 152 titles have made their way onto these magnificent shelves behind my desk:

                            

                                                    

I have gone to the trouble of taking a written inventory. The following are a list of the most represented authors...

Dean Koontz, 15

William Shakespeare, 10

P.J. O'Rourke, 9

William F. Buckley, 7

Dumas Malone, 5

Jeff Shaara, 5

Christopher Buckley, 4

Pat Conroy, 3

Then there are a score of authors who have two titles represented:

Jon Meacham, Ernest Hemmingway, John Updike, John Feinstein, Marc Eliot, E. L. Doctorow, Stephen Ambrose, William L. Shirer, Burke Davis, G. K. Chesterton, Peggy Noonan, and Mark Twain.

Then comes the writers with one book each:

Edgar Allen Poe, Voltaire, Cervantes, Robert Louis Stevenson, Aristotle, Stephen Crane, Nathaniel Hawthorne*, Jonathan Swift, H.G. Wells, Herman Melville, Charles Dickens, Thomas Mann, Jonathan Franzen, H.W. Brands, Amity Shlaes, James Bradley, Winston Churchill, Alf J. Mapp, 

Fyodor Dostoevsky, David McCullough, Jonah Goldberg, Joseph Heller, Jack Kerouac, Homer, Robert Penn Warren, Dashiell Hammett, Truman Capote, Aldous Huxley, Harper Lee, Dylan Thomas, Saul Bellow, Thomas Sowell, J. D. Salinger, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Thomas Wolfe, John Steinbeck, C.S. Lewis, Sun Tzu, and Erik Metaxas.

One thing I noticed as I was putting this all together, and I would wager a rather large sum that my English Major daughter noticed the same thing....there are only four books in this collection authored by women, To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee, two books by Peggy Noonan and one by Amity Shlaes. This is profoundly embarrassing to me, especially considering the thousands of brilliant writers out there who happen to be women. Good grief, how did this happen? I probably have a dozen or so upstairs that didn't make the cut, but still...I've got to broaden my horizons.

Anyway, I can't tell you how much I love this new room. I've spent practically every waking moment in here since the furniture was delivered. Everyone of these books have meant something special to me at some point in my life. Having them gathered together in one place feels like walking into a museum of your life, only you're the only one for whom the displays make any sense. I remember being mesmerized by Catcher In The Rye, shamed by To Kill a Mockingbird, astonished by the questions in The Brothers Karamozov. I was terrified by The Nightmare Years, enchanted by The Prince of Tides, humbled by The Everlasting Man, and inspired by Bonhoeffer. Each book made a bold mark on my memory which still remains all these years later.