The Children's Hour

There is a crazed quality in the defense of the dubious. - Hobbes


If you spend no effort, the soggy basement grows mold and dry rot. Likewise,  the mind loses its focus and function in torpor, so that in place of rigorous essays of a Thomas Paine we have -

- what we have, which is a candidate on the ticket for the highest office claiming to be blindsided by a reporter asking serious questions. After all, said the candidate, we both had young children, so I thought we would talk about the children. Such another, a handler for that campaign, was of the opinion this failed candidate should have expected to discuss genuine topics because the interview had been staged with the UN Building as a backdrop.

To give her gravitas in foreign affairs, they posed her in front of important structures, such as the UN and Henry Kissinger.

Indeed, the sharpest mind in the campaign on either side sought to radiate states(wo)manly partnership vibes once in office by sitting down with a notorious kleptomaniac and allowing the photographers in.

When you tell children there is no Santa, or talk to Christians about their silly fairy tales, you will incite more rage than were you to simply trash-talk the home team. Because that team has a record which anyone might consult and none can deny. The Niners do suck, and no one by the Bay can offer a counter argument.

Now comes a vast trove of documentation that the children's bedtime story with the big abstract nouns about Freedom and Democracy were not really what the parents were talking about late at night in the kitchen, after all.

So we have another hysterical outrage, not about the lies and the waste and the many dead, but against the intrepid reporter who showed us from their own record the dastardly dishabille of the prancing potentates.

Run, Wiki, run.

Sent from my iPhone