Rep. Paul Ryan, R-Wis., said distrust of President Barack Obama runs so deep in the Republican caucus that he’s skeptical the GOP-led House would pass any immigration measure. He said a plan that puts security first could only pass if lawmakers believe the administration would enforce it – an unlikely prospect given Republicans’ deep opposition to Obama.
So, was it all a feint? Or is the above the feint?
Only the Shadow—and perhaps John Boehner—knows.
You know one of them. But probably not the other:
So, in President Obama’s interview with Bill O’Reilly Obama mostly bobbed and weaved and evaded answering questions in any meaningful manner. But he also doubled down on his lie on Benghazi, the one that had surfaced with some fanfare in the second debate with Romney.
To O’Reilly:
“When someone is attacking our compound, that is an act of terror and that’s how I characterized it the next day,” Obama said during the live sit-down broadcast from the White House during Fox’s Super Bowl pre-game show.
Obama knows that he will never be fact-checked on this in a way that will matter (bloggers and the right will do it, but the MSM will back him up), and that most people (including those in the MSM) will just allow it to pass into the realm of “things generally thought true.” Wasn’t that settled during the debate, when “moderator” Candy Crowley (who showed a distinct lack of moderation) leapt in to assert that yes, indeed, Obama had called Bengahzi an act of terror the day after it occurred, in his Rose Garden speech?
Anyone who wants a thorough analysis of exactly what Obama said and why it’s the case that he most definitely did not call the attack an act of terror—and just how strange Crowley’s actions in that debate were—please read this, this, and this.
But the larger issue is that we’ve all grown very used to Obama’s lies. Does anyone, including his most avid supporters, expect him to tell the truth anymore? But not all lies are created equal, and most politicians tell lies about something or other, some minor and some major. So what seems different about Obama, besides the volume and variety of his lies?
It’s one thing to lie about something hidden or secret, something that’s hard to ascertain. Is Obama lying, for instance, about how well he knew Bill Ayers back in his Chicago days? Almost certainly, but we don’t know, and we’re almost certainly never going to really know the full extent of their relationship. Is he lying about whether he actually believed that Americans would be able to keep their doctors under Obamacare? A bit easier to ascertain, but not so very easy because we have to assume he had enough knowledge of what was in the bill and how the regulations were going to operate in order to assume he deliberately lied (which he almost certainly did). Did he know about the IRS targeting of the Tea Party? Again, we have to assume that people told him, or that he directed it himself, and that he’s covering up that knowledge. But there’s no smoking gun to implicate him in the IRS offenses (the situation there resembles the speculation about whether Chris Christie knew about the much less important—but still troubling—Bridegate).
But the lie about whether Obama called Benghazi a terrorist act in his Rose Garden speech is of a different order, IMHO. It’s about a matter of easily-obtained public record: his words in a particular speech. And it becomes virtually certain (as I asserted in the posts of mine that I linked to above, where I analyzed the text of the speech very closely), if you look at the words of that speech, that he did not say that. In fact, he pointedly avoided saying it when he had many opportunities to do so.
I can’t recall any previous president, even when lying or shading the truth, saying that he had said something in a public speech when he had not (if you can think of such an incident, let me know). This is what is called a bold-faced lie, an egregious lie—and a lie that depends for its success on the collusion of the press.
And that’s what Obama knows he will get. It’s vitally important. He got that collusion on the first—and most important—time he asserted this particular lie, in that second debate with Romney. I even think there’s at least a 50% chance that the whole thing was arranged ahead of time with Crowley, and you may agree if you actually study the video of the debate.
This is what gives Obama the confidence—the sheer chutzpah—to do this sort of thing without blinking. Because it works for him, and he knows it.
…is one sick puppy.
They should change their motto from “All the news that’s fit to print” to “All the gossip that could hurt the Republicans, and none of the news that could hurt the Democrats.”
I guess it’s a little long, though.
…to its lowest point since 1973.
That seems like unequivocally good news. The study didn’t examine why it happened, however. Theories: better long-term contraception methods, hard economic times, tighter laws restricting access to abortion in some situations, and greater awareness of fetal development through sonograms.
But whatever the reasons, here are the stats:
The study released Monday shows that, after a plateau from 2005 to 2008, the long-term decline in the abortion rate has resumed. The rate has dropped significantly from its all-time high in 1981, when there were roughly 30 abortions for every 1,000 women of reproductive age. The overall number of abortions also fell 13 percent from 2008 to nearly 1.1 million in 2011, the study said.
I hadn’t known the abortion rate had been steadily dropping. That’s interesting, surprising, and good, even though we don’t know what the reason[s] have been.
This is shocking news: Barry Rubin, professor, author, and PJ Media Middle East editor, died this morning at the age of 64.
From Dave Swindle at PJ:
For the last least three years, his Rubin Reports blog has served as the roadmap to the Middle East that I rely on the most. Written from the center of the storm in Israel, his typical columns are densely filled with facts and fascinating observations. Perhaps the crucial insight that I’ve gained from trying to keep up with Barry all these years ”” he tends to publish his loaded analyses very prolifically, not that I’m complaining! ”” is the depth of complexity to the Middle East. The game is not a chessboard between two sides, and there are rarely easy answers given that there are so many different actors on the field.
Swindle goes on to provide links to thirteen of Rubin’s books. Rubin had made these works of his available online, for free. I didn’t know Rubin, but that sort of act says a lot about him.
He wasn’t idle in his last year, either. Here’s a book of his that’s due to come out this April; it sounds fascinating and important: Silent Revolution: How the Left Rose to Political Power and Cultural Dominance.
RIP, Barry Rubin.
Now that I’m already blogging this Sunday, I figure I may as well post something about the Superbowl.
And this is it.
That’s pretty much all I’ve got to say about it. I’m not a football fan. I only watch the Superbowl when the Pats are playing, and I don’t watch all that carefully even then. I find football to be confusing and jumbled visually, not like the clearly highlighted and easy-to-follow grace of baseball, my favorite team sport (here’s why).
But I’m not a complete isolate, and I realize that football is a Big Deal. And that the Superbowl is an even Bigger Deal. I realize this in part because when I go to Walmart (which I’m about to do, to return a router) I can’t help but notice the rows upon rows of chips and dips – and cakes in the shape of footballs and football fields – lining the entryway, tempting me to get into the culinary spirit of the Superbowl if not the sports fan spirit.
So, for those of you who want to discuss the Superbowl or anything connected with it, here’s your thread!
And so instead of resting this Sunday I’m reposting an old favorite. Really, what could be more appropriate on Groundhog Day than a repeat of an old essay about the movie, a personal favorite of mine?
[NOTE: For more on the philosophical and theological underpinnings of the film, please see this and this.]
In discussions of the film “Groundhog Day” on this blog, I’ve noticed a couple of people questioning why the Bill Murray character would find Andie McDowell’s Rita deserving of all those years of his devotion and energy. For example, “…[W]hat, exactly, made the lovely but, let’s face it, vapid Rita worthy of Phil’s centuries of effort?”
My answer is that he discovered love. Yes, Rita was beautiful, and a good human being with many excellent qualities. But of course she was imperfect, and over the years (centuries? millennia?) Phil no doubt had learned just about all of her flaws. Still, it didn’t matter to him because it wasn’t about Rita, exactly—it was about the fact that, somewhere along the long path of his transformation to wisdom, he finally understood that every person in town, including the ones he couldn’t tolerate at the beginning, was worthy of his attention—and of something one might call “love,” in its broadest sense.
And somewhere along the way to that knowledge, Phil’s efforts in “Groundhog Day” stopped being about getting into Rita’s pants or even getting her to love him, although that certainly took up a larger percentage of his time (and the movie’s length) than some of his other pursuits. But he probably spent at least as much time learning to play the piano (a form of love, too), or to carve ice sculptures, or to become skilled at some of the more mindless and meaningless tricks he mastered, or learning details about the life of almost everyone in town.
Was the old derelict, whose life Phil tried to save over and over and over, “worth it” either? Such questions no longer mattered to him, because the gesture and the effort were worth it, and every life was worth something to him.
Rita, of course, had always been physically attractive to Phil. But as the film (and time) wore on—and on—she became the object not just of eros, but of agape as well. By the end of the movie, I think that Phil had come to appreciate the idea of the theme and variations versus the symphony, which I wrote about here:
And, although walking repeatedly in the same place is very different from traveling around the world and walking in a new place every day, is it really so very much less varied? It depends on the eye and mind of the beholder; the expansive imagination can find variety in small differences, and the stunted one can find boredom in vast changes.
And I submit that love is like that, too. Some people spend a lifetime with one love, one spouse; plumbing the depths of that single human being and what it means to be in an intimate relationship with him/her. Others go from relationship to relationship, never alighting with one person for very long, craving the variety.
It would seem on the face of it that the second type of person has the more exciting time in love. But it ain’t necessarily so. Either of these experiences can be boring or fascinating, depending on what we bring to it: the first experience is a universe in depth, and the second a universe in breadth. But both can contain multitudes.
Towards the end of the film (SPOILER ALERT), Phil makes it clear that he has given up the pursuit of Rita entirely, and immersed himself in his love for her instead. Is this what finally frees him?
[NOTE: In the original post, there was a more complete version of the ending, but YouTube seems to have taken it down and this was the closest one I could find. To those of you unfamiliar with the movie, it won’t seem like much, but trust me; in context, it’s extraordinary, especially in contrast to Phil’s original snarky personality.]
[ADDENDUM: In one of the links I recommended in the “UPDATE” above, I just noticed an error (maybe that’s because it’s the NY Times, natch). The article states, “Of course, this being an American film, he [Phil] not only attains spiritual release but also gets the producer [Rita] into bed.”
Well, that may be literally true; on the final night, Rita and Phil do sleep in the same bed. But what the writer is implying—that they have sex—is completely untrue. Note, also, the snide “American film” reference.]
[ADDENDUM II: I also just noticed that, surprisingly enough, the other essayist, Michael P. Foley, makes the same error as the Times. He writes:
I should add, though, that the movie is not perfect. Rita’s final “redemption” of Phil, for instance, results in their sleeping together the next morning. (Call it the incense that had to be thrown on the Hollywood fire.)
I am quite surprised that so many thoughtful viewers of the movie have made such an elementary error. But it seems quite common. How odd. As commenter “Ed Bonderenka” points out, “Rita says, the next morning, that Phil fell asleep the night before.”
That’s not to say that Phil foreswears sex. We can be fairly certain that, when he returns to normal time with Rita, sex is part of their lives.]
And he probably didn’t take art history.
By the way, I took a few courses in art history in college, although I was definitely not an art history major, and I can tell you that art history is hard. At least it was back then. Ever try to tell one Gothic church from another? Hard, hard, hard.
Last night I was listening to Leonard Cohen’s “Going Home.” In that song he’s his usual lugubrious, hypnotic, philosophical, mystical self. The lyric could only have been written by a writer who’s no longer young. You may think the song boring, but I think it could grow on you:
In one of the song’s many manifestations on YouTube, there was a discussion in the comments section about the lines “Though he knows he’s really nothing/But the brief elaboration of a tube.” Several people seemed to think the person offering the lyrics had heard the word “tube” in error, and that Cohen’s actual word was “tune.”
Well, no. Not only is it “tube,” but I love that line. It makes me think of embryology as well as Zen-ish philosophy; it’s literally true that our entire digestive system and even the liver and other organs start out as a simple tube. But there’s nothing at all simple about the “elaboration” that goes on. It seems more like a miracle.
Here’s a brief elaboration on that brief elaboration of a tube:
And you might also say that YouTube itself—that wonderful place where a person has only to think of a song and type in a few words in order to get nearly instantaneous access to many versions of it, like having some magical genie who says “Your wish is my command”—it occurs to me that YouTube itself is another elaboration of a tube.
[NOTE: I just noticed that in the Cohen video there’s no picture; it’s just audio. I chose that one because the sound was best, and the original just had some stills of Cohen anyway.]
Harvey Silverglate weighs in on the motivations for the Justice Department’s current spate of prosecutions of politicians and ex-politicians. Many of the accused are Republicans, of course, but not all:
What has become clear, however, is that the department’s war against local politicians will continue, and that its motivations will lie somewhere between the quest for federal power and partisan politics.
The Chicago way is only for the folks in power in Washington and their lackeys, I guess. They don’t want anyone else taking a leaf out of their book. And of course any Republican frontrunner must be taken down, and there are many tools available to do that.