You're probably not familiar with the name John Carlos. But you almost certainly know his image. It's 1968 at the Mexico City Olympics and the medals are being hung round the necks of Tommie Smith (USA, gold), Peter Norman (Australia, silver) and Carlos (USA, bronze). As the Star-Spangled Banner begins to play, Smith and Carlos, two black Americans wearing black gloves, raise their fists in the black power salute. It is a symbol of resistance and defiance, seared into 20th-century history, that Carlos feels he was put on Earth to perform.
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Original "Everlong" Recorded in 1997 by Foo Fighters
Piano Cover created recently by an anonymous artist known only as TalkWithYourFingers
Groucho Marx, as a political leader in Duck Soup, yields to a plea for peace. The neighboring country, he is told, wants peace as much as he does. He is thankful. He will extend the hand of peace. He knows it won't be rejected. But suppose it is? How outrageous that will be! His anger at the prospect grows with each second.
I've always been entranced by the escalation of paranoia into indignation. I'm not talking about a clinical condition. Sometimes they really are out to get you. Remember Watergate?
Speculation based on no actual evidence transforms into outrage. It seems a contradiction to me. If a suspicion seems certain, something to be reasonably anticipated, part of the expected course of events, how can it be outrageous? If it is unreasonable, how would it be reasonably anticipated?
I suppose they'll do this. Why, how dare they!!!
When I encounter most anything written by CNN contributor Erick Erickson, I wonder if I will stumble into some new instance. Last year, just after Gabby Gifford was nearly assassinated and several of those around her were killed, a few folks falsely assumed the cheerleaders of violence, advocates of "second amendment remedies", might through their rhetoric have been partially responsible. I recall my own reaction, like most, as somewhat more confined.
Erickson's Groucho-like anger at President Obama was classic. Eric just knew, because it is so like those liberals, that they were advising Obama to put the tragedy to cynical use, and that the lamestream media would be predictably complicit.
We also know Barack Obama’s advisors are urging him to seize the moment and join the left in blaming the right for this violence. Not only is that disgusting, but should he, the media wringing their hands about the tone better call him out on it — but I won’t hold my breath.
Uh huh. He expresses peremptory outrage over the reasonably expected unreasonable actions. "Not only is that disgusting..."
So it was a pleasant surprise to find an actual insight last week. Okay. It wasn't exactly Erickson's insight. It was a spinoff from a Quentin Tarantino movie. Still, the application to a political figure was recognized. The insight is valid. Okay, it wasn't Erickson's insight, he discovered it in a TNR article by Chris Orr.
Still, we have to be impressed that a conservative reads The New Republic and occasionally recognizes, and is even open to, the wisdom that sometimes appears. Recognition of wisdom is a form of wisdom.
A Tarantino character riffs about Superman. Orr's summary is quoted by Erickson along with Orr's insight:
Superman was born Superman. It’s Clark Kent that is the invented alias, the pose, the “costume.” And in the way Superman plays Kent–weak, self-doubting, cowardly–we see his critique of the human race.
It occurred to me that the same is true of Romney’s desperate, if never terribly persuasive, impersonation of a conservative Republican. That persona–angry, simple-minded, xenophobic, jingoistic–is exactly what Romney (who is himself cultured, content, and cosmopolitan) imagines the average GOP voter to be.
That's good. I think my insight, the fact that Romney's most important constituency has an strange and unexpected distaste for him, may dovetail with Erickson's Orr-inspired epiphany.
The questions Erickson misses seem obvious. One is whether Romney's impersonation will work. And to the extent that it does, whether that means conservatives see themselves as he does. And to the extent that they see themselves that way, whether they, in fact are accurately self-defined. Which is to say they are "angry, simple-minded, xenophobic, jingoistic."
Here is the Tarantino clip from Kill Bill: Volume 2, and a good pre-impersonation, I suppose you'd call it, of Eric Erickson via Duck Soup.
The fact it is covered in this publication adds wonder.
Here's the description from YouTube:
“ a-ha's eternal pop evergreen performed by young accordeon players from Kum Song School, Pyongyang, North Korea.
An exuberant reader forwards this to Burr with enthusiasm:
This should cheer you up
Celtic music was the foundation that American country music was built upon. The Scots and the Irish brought their simple instruments with them to the hills of Appalachia and entertained themselves with the music they remembered from their homelands. I hope this entertains you....
GUARANTEED to make your toes tap.
If it doesn't, I'm thinking you are DOA.
The Aussies and Brits are fun folks and a blast, but I think the Irish might just have a slight edge on them. I know my mom is watchin' and toe-tappin'.
Watch this and see what you think!
Burr's text messages have been uniformly pitiful. Still, he insists he will be back tomorrow, which provokes shock and awe from those who have seen him and who are naive enough to believe the useless bravado.
He did dictate a message to a close friend to be sent via his personal, private account. Since he is not here to stop us, we will cheerfully violate his privacy for the entertainment of our readers.
Everything hurts. Even my toe nails hurt. Even the hair I no long have hurts.
... I'm very tired. Did I mention everything hurts?
Any private messages to Burr commiserating with his suffering toe nails and missing follicles will be forwarded. We promise to violate only Burr's privacy. We will safeguard the secrecy of any sympathy expressed to him without explicit permission otherwise. It would be unfair to let anyone else know.
Jim Henson would have been 75 today.
[Note: Raymond is jealous]