Where does experience come from? Bad judgment

I haven’t had anything to say about Levi Johnston’s decision to exploit his inadvertent fame by going on national TV to trash his ex-fiancée, because I don’t think there’s all that much to be said, really, and because the folks at C4P have been doing a good job of saying it (here and here); this leaves me with a low opinion of the kid and a lower one of her sister (who does indeed seem to be jealous of Bristol Palin and glad that her brother’s no longer engaged), but so what?  Something did occur to me, though, which I thought might be worth noting:  while I really don’t care all that much about Johnston, being far, far more concerned about the Palin family, I do have to wonder—while all the attention’s on what this kid’s doing to his ex and her family, did any adult sit down and try to tell him what he’d be doing to himself?  Or did any adult in his life even think that far ahead?

Someone should have.  For the short term, this no doubt seems like a great idea to him—make some money, hurt his ex, hurt her parents while he’s at it (since it appears they never cared for him much), get some attention.  But what about the long term?  What effect is this likely to have on his adult life?  It’s hard to say for sure, but it can’t be good.  This whole thing will blow over, the news cycle will move on, the PR effects will fade . . . and then the real meaning of his actions will set in.

Obviously, he’s permanently alienated the mother of his son and her family, which is going to do bad things for his relationship with that son in the future; maybe he’s shallow enough that that will never bother him, but while I think he’s pretty shallow, I don’t see any reason to believe he’s that bad.  And whether he is or isn’t, this is going to hang over any future relationships he might have; any woman who comes along is going to look at him as a man with a son from whose mother he’s estranged because he took advantage of her and betrayed her.  Which is to say, if he wants to get married, have kids, etc., he’s set up a heck of a hurdle for himself to get there.

Then there’s the question of the wider consequences of his actions.  In Alaska, of course, he’s a marked man—everybody knows who he is, and that’s going to be the case for a long time.  There are probably those whose desire to bring down Sarah Palin is so great that his dishonorable behavior won’t hurt him in their eyes . . . but before he goes and applies for a position on Hollis French’s staff, he ought to consider that his evident immaturity, irresponsibility and bad judgment still won’t recommend him for anything.  Folks like that want to use you, kid, not employ you; they see you as a tool, not someone on whom they want to rely (even if they thought you were actually reliable—a conclusion which your behavior to this point does not tend to support).

Meanwhile, those without a strong political animus against Gov. Palin will focus mainly on what this reveals about Johnston’s character and judgment—and what it reveals isn’t good.  For the rest of his life, he’s going to be the guy who got a girl pregnant, dumped her, then went on national TV to make a quick buck trashing her.  That’s the sort of thing that gives most people a built-in prejudice against you; it’s the sort of thing that makes it hard to convince folks that you’re trustworthy, responsible, and a man of integrity.  As such, it’s the sort of thing that tends to work against your ability to get good jobs and make a good living; if you do get a job, it can be the sort of thing that makes people not want to do business with your employer.

And that’s not just in Alaska, either.  It will be worst there, no doubt, but even if he leaves the state to get away from the stigma, this is the age of the Internet; anyone looking to hire him, or date him, or work with him, is going to Google him if they don’t know who he is, and if they do that, it will all be there.  Those folks will have to ask themselves whether they want to be associated with the guy who got a girl pregnant, dumped her, then went on national TV to make a quick buck trashing her—and I suspect that not all that many people will.  Even if they like the political effect of his actions, the fact remains that he didn’t do what he did because he was a deep-cover Democratic Party dirty-tricks specialist, he did it because he’s an immature, low-character jerk (or something of that sort).  What he did before, he might very well do it again—and if you’re associated with him, this time it might be your daughter, or someone else you care about.  As such, even those who like and appreciate his actions at a distance aren’t likely to approve of them close up.

All of which is to say, there’s likely to be fallout from this whole episode for many years into Levi Johnston’s future, and there’s no good reason to think that any of it will be positive.  I could always be wrong, but it seems to me that what Johnston has done is likely to make it harder for him to form another stable romantic relationship, harder for him to get a woman to trust him enough to stay with him, harder for him to get good jobs, and harder for him to keep them.  The support of political liberals for his actions will probably prove to be abstract, not translating into meaningful support for him at a personal level, while the animus of political conservatives will most likely be very concrete and very direct; those who judge him without regard to political concerns will find little good to say about him from his behavior in recent months.  I hope Tyra Banks paid him well for the ratings boost, and I hope he’s smart enough to save most of it . . . I think he may need it.

The Herald of Salvation

(Isaiah 51:1-52:12; John 12:12-16)

“Listen to me,” says the Lord. “Listen to me, you who pursue righteousness, you who seek me; listen and look.” If you’ve been here through this series, you’ll note that this appeal is new. In chapters 40 through 48 we read, several times, “Listen to me, O Jacob, O Israel”; with chapter 49, that changes, as the Servant of the Lord begins his speech by saying, “Listen to me, you nations.” With the shift that comes in chapter 49, the audience has changed. Now it’s changed again, to the faithful remnant within Israel—the people who are still seeking God and pursuing his righteousness, who have neither turned their backs on him nor rejected his servant. These are the ones who are willing to trust God—but even for them, it’s hard.

Indeed, maybe for them it’s especially hard, despite their faith, because they see their people’s dire situation much more clearly than their more secular friends and relatives. They can see beyond Israel’s physical exile to their much deeper and more serious spiritual exile, the distance of the people’s hearts from God, and their consequent spiritual barrenness and deadness; they can see past the obvious difficulty of Israel’s deliverance to the real difficulty that underlies it, and so they worry—not that God is unable to deliver his people, or that he doesn’t care enough to do so, as other Israelites do, but that the faithlessness of their people will somehow sabotage everything in the end anyway. They trust God, but they know better than to trust his people.

To them, God says, “Listen to me: look to the rock from which you were cut and to the quarry from which you were hewn.” A quarry is not a place of life; nothing comes out of it but dead stone. This is an apt metaphor to describe Abraham and Sarah, the father and mother of their people, for Sarah was barren, and both were far past childbearing age; even now, with our advanced technology, we don’t see 90-year-olds having children. When God says, “When I called Abraham, he was but one,” he’s not kidding; and yet, as God points out, “I blessed him and made him many.” The very foundation story of the family that became the nation of Israel is a story of God bringing life out of barrenness and deadness; that sort of miraculous birth is at the core of their national identity. “Trust me even in this,” God is saying, “because I’ve done even this for my people before.” What is now a wasteland, he will make “like Eden”—and this doesn’t just mean physical life, but also spiritual life, for Eden isn’t merely a physical paradise, it’s the place before sin, and before the curse of God that fell on us because of our sin.

“Listen to me,” says the Lord. “Listen, my people; hear me, my nation.” Is God once again addressing all the Israelites? Perhaps, but probably not; this isn’t a return to the “Listen, O Jacob, hear, O Israel” formula of earlier in the book. Given the context, what we’re probably seeing here is yet another step in God’s redefinition of his people. His nation isn’t defined by ethnicity or by borders, but rather consists of all those who pursue righteousness and seek his face, wherever they may come from; and so he promises, “The law will go out from me; my justice will become a light to the nations. My righteousness draws near swiftly; my salvation is on the way, and my arm will bring justice to the nations.” To emphasize the enduring nature of his salvation, he declares that even when the earth has worn out from old age and the heavens have faded away like smoke, yet his salvation will still endure, and his righteousness will never fail. The Lord is offering a gift to outlast the very stars, to anyone who will accept it.

“Hear me,” says the Lord; “hear me, you who know righteousness, you people who have my law in your hearts”—and note well, this isn’t the same as saying, “you Jews.” As Paul says in Romans 2, there are many who have the law in their heads because they were taught it, but don’t have it in their hearts because they’ve never lived it; on the other hand, there are also those who’ve never heard the law of God but nevertheless show by the way they live that they have his law in their hearts. To those who know and live out the righteous life of God, he says, “Don’t be afraid of the mockery and scorn of others; don’t be terrified by their hostility and attacks.” As with the heavens and the earth, so with the power of the wicked: it looks too big to conquer, too vast to overcome, and too endless to endure, but in truth it’s merely temporary, and far more fragile than it appears. They will not last, but God’s righteousness will. “The moth will eat them up like a garment, the worm will devour them like wool; but my righteousness will last forever, my salvation through all generations.”

God’s promises to his people, rooted in his miraculous promise to Abraham, are promises for the whole world, for all who will believe, for all who seek the Lord and pursue his righteousness, for all who want to be a part of his people; and they are promises you can bank on—more than you can bank on many banks, these days—because there is no power that can prevent the Lord from fulfilling his righteous and saving purposes. Those who would set themselves against him put their trust in the things of this world—but this world is passing, it will in time wear out and fade away, and God will still be there, and still faithfully keeping his promises. Not even our faithlessness can overcome his faithfulness to us; and so the prophet cries out to the people of Israel, “Awake, awake! Rise up, O Jerusalem, you who have drunk from the hand of the Lord the cup of his wrath . . . this is what your Sovereign Lord says: ‘See, I have taken out of your hand the cup that made you stagger; from that cup, the goblet of my wrath, you will never drink again. Instead, I will put it into the hands of your tormenters.’”

Awake, for you have slept through what God has been doing; awake, for he has removed your punishment. Awake, rise up, and put on new strength; shake off the dust of your humiliation, shake off the chains of your slavery, for all that is past, and put on the garments of the glory of the priestly people of the King of kings. This is what God says to his people—and note this: “the uncircumcised and defiled will not enter you again.” The Lord is not only redeeming his people, he is purifying them; they will be pruned of their unholiness and unfaithfulness, and he will make them worthy of the promises he has given them. This is an echo of the promises he gave through Jeremiah and Ezekiel to put a new heart and a new spirit within his people and write his law on their hearts; it’s all a part of his plan to make them in reality who he called them to be.

But how? Look at 52:3: “For this is what the Lord says: ‘You were sold for nothing, and without money you will be redeemed.’” Money had not yet changed hands, so the sale had not been finalized, and the Lord could reclaim his people; reclaim them he would, and just as the seller made no profit in the transaction, so the redeemer would pay no money to reverse it. But he must pay something; what could it be? How would he redeem his people?

The answer to that isn’t spelled out in this passage, of course, but it builds toward that answer. What we do get is that the Lord will redeem his people by the power of his mighty arm. Look back up to 51:9, where we have one other call to awake—but this one directed not to the people of God, but to the arm of the Lord. The prophet evokes the mighty things that the arm of the Lord has done in the past as a reason for confidence that the Lord will deliver his people as he has done so many times before, and God speaks words of comfort to Zion, to the captives in Babylon, and to the Servant. He will reveal his power, and his arm will bring justice to the nations, and hope to the peoples of the earth, as he declares in 51:5; he will show his power and his glory in a new way, rolling up his sleeves and laying bare his holy arm before all the nations, so that people to the farthest reaches of the world shall experience his salvation.

With that last statement, something new enters the picture, because it’s the close of a paragraph that’s one of the loveliest passages in all of Scripture, I think. Look at 52:7: “How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of him who brings good news.” The NIV’s trying to be inclusive here, and I understand the impulse, but I think in this verse it’s a mistake; I think it needs to be “him,” because I think there’s a very particular him in view here. Remember, the Servant will not merely bring God’s salvation to the nations, he will be God’s salvation to the nations, and I think that’s what Isaiah’s talking about. “How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of him who brings good news, who proclaims peace, who brings good tidings, who proclaims salvation, who says to Zion, ‘Your God reigns!’ Your watchmen lift up your voices, and together they shout for joy—when the LORD returns to Zion, they will see it with their own eyes. Burst into songs of joy together, you ruins of Jerusalem, for the LORD has comforted his people, he has redeemed Jerusalem. The LORD has bared his holy arm”—I think “has bared” is better there than the NIV’s future tense—“the LORD has bared his holy arm in the sight of all the nations, and all the ends of the earth shall see the salvation of our God.”

Now, as I read that, that paragraph is tight. It’s tightly woven and closely connected, and I think we’re talking about one thing there, one event. We have here the herald of God’s salvation, but it seems to me that the one who is announcing good news is in fact the LORD returning to Zion; the one who comes to proclaim peace and good tidings is the one who has brought them about, who has redeemed Jerusalem. He is, in fact, the arm of the LORD revealed, in whom all the ends of the earth shall see the salvation of God. With his arrival in Jerusalem would come the revelation of God’s plan to redeem his people without money and extend his salvation to all the world.

And so it was, on that day when Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a donkey, that day which we remember today as Palm Sunday. The Lord returned, and the whole city saw it with their own eyes, and crowds burst out into song; they cried out “Hosanna!” which means “Save us now!” and their faith that he would do so, though ephemeral, was well placed, for he would indeed do just that; in him, the Lord had bared his holy arm in the sight of all the nations, and all the ends of the earth would see God’s salvation. In him, through him, God would redeem his people without money. Through him, God would purify his people, giving them a new heart and a new spirit, writing his law within them. Through him, in him, God would extend his salvation beyond Israel to all the nations, even to the farthest parts of the earth.

Pride (in the name of love)

This video was produced, as far as I can tell, as an ad of sorts for the History Channel’s show on Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.; it features John Legend’s version of U2’s “Pride (In the Name of Love)”—which is a rare accomplishment: a cover of that song that’s actually good—accompanied by footage and photos of Dr. King and other participants in the civil-rights movement.  Ad or otherwise, it’s a worthy tribute.

Congratulations to the Spartan Nation

I root in all things for my Washington teams—the Seattle teams in the pros, the University of Washington, Gonzaga as well in basketball, and really, I’m usually happy to see Washington State do well, also—and of course for my alma mater, Hope College; but at the college level, I pull for Michigan State, too, since between my own extended family and my wife’s family, I’m related to a large number of Spartans.  I have of course been cheering MSU on in the NCAA tournament this year (and especially since Purdue took out the Huskies, which made me quite unhappy)—I even called them beating Louisville, since I thought they matched up really well with the Cardinals, and I have great faith in Tom Izzo as a coach.  I figured, though, that Izzo would have to be content with his fifth Final Four in twelve years, since I didn’t see them beating Connecticut (in fact, UConn was my pick to win it all); even with the home-court advantage, I figured the UConn front line would be too much for them.  I even expressed that belief to my father-in-law this morning.

I was wrong.  Michigan State 82, Connecticut 73.  Congratulations, Coach Izzo and the Spartans—and good luck against North Carolina Monday night.  They’ll be your third straight #1 seed, which is quite a gauntlet to run . . . but I think you can take ’em.

Thought on prayer and the routine

Today was taken up with a trip down to Indianapolis.  On the way back, we saw two overturned semis—one by itself, one at the center of a multi-vehicle accident (in the lanes going the other direction) that had drawn upwards of a dozen emergency vehicles, all with lights going.  One of my daughters asked, after we passed the big one, why it had happened; I said I didn’t know, but the comment was made that probably someone hadn’t been paying attention.  There was a little red car, undamaged, stopped a short distance ahead of the accident, which made us wonder if perhaps that car had cut someone off or made a sudden move of some other sort, setting off a chain of events that made the semi swerve and overbalance, among other things—the sort of careless move that people make and get away with all the time, but this time at just the wrong moment to cause a tragedy.

We take so much for granted, most days.  We take for granted that we can drive wherever we need to go and get there and back safely—and if we don’t, people call us worrywarts.  We take for granted that we can do whatever it occurs to us to do and it will all be okay, and that if we’re a little careless, no harm will be done.  We may pray for God’s protection as we travel or do other things—I had asked for prayer Wednesday for traveling mercies for us—but we do so lightly, more in the spirit of “just in case” than with any sense that it’s actually important.  We take for granted that the routine and the mundane really is, of its essence, the routine and the mundane.

And it isn’t, as the folks involved in that accident were reminded, and as we were reminded, passing by in the other direction.  It isn’t at all.  There is always the possibility for the unexpected and the uncontrolled to intrude—and if, at any given point, that possibility may be quite low, it does build up after a while.  There’s always more out of our control than we like to admit, and more variables (many more) than we can possibly track, and far more ways that things can go wrong than there are ways they can go right.  We expect routine good fortune, take it for granted, and consider ourselves ill-used when we don’t get it, when we really ought to realize that even that much is a great gift, an act of God’s grace.  It is, truly, no small thing to pray for traveling mercies—and no small blessing when our request is granted.  Every such answer to prayer is a victory over the chaos in our world; and every such victory should be taken seriously as reason for gratitude.

Franklin Graham likes Sarah Palin’s coattails

I have an envelope sitting on my desk from Samaritan’s Purse, the organization founded by Franklin Graham; on the outside, the envelope references two of the many projects in which they’re involved:

Ministry in the Slums of Honduras

Feeding Families on the Alaska Frontier

Now, had you asked me in advance which of these two would get top billing, I would have figured from past experience that it would be Honduras, which sounds more exotic and a bigger deal.  Past fundraising appeals from Franklin Graham, whether for Samaritan’s Purse or for his father’s ministry, have featured evangelistic work in places like India for just that reason.  But no, Honduras is relegated to a small strip below the address window of the envelope.  Most of the front of the envelope is taken up with the mission to Alaska.

Why? My best guess in two words:  Sarah Palin.

Most of the right side of the front of the envelope, somewhere between a quarter and a third of the total space, is occupied by a picture of Graham standing next to Gov. Palin, both grinning (he looks very like his father in this shot), handing out a big box of food.  The picture dominates the envelope; the eye goes first to Graham, looking down into the box, then moves immediately to the Governor, because she’s dressed in red and so stands out from the rest of the colors in the picture.  The message in this one is very clear:  Franklin Graham is allied with Sarah Palin—they’re working together to minister to the people of Alaska.

Lest you think I’m overemphasizing this, I’m not.  Open the envelope and pull out the letter, the first thing you see is a different photo, filling the top half of the page, of Graham and Gov. Palin giving away another large box of food; the only major difference in composition is that Graham is significantly closer to the camera and therefore looms larger.  Gov. Palin is still dead-center in the shot, and her red still draws the eye.  The caption, at the top of the page, reads, “EMERGENCY FOOD:  Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin and I delivered much-needed boxes of food to native families in the wilderness of western Alaska.”  In the text of the letter, the governor’s office is mentioned in the second paragraph, she’s mentioned by name—and praised in strong terms—in the third, and the entire fourth paragraph is her praise of Samaritan’s Purse.

In other words, one of the main things this letter wants you to take away is that Gov. Palin loves Franklin Graham and Samaritan’s Purse, and that they’re allies in ministry.  This is, of course, a fundraising letter, so what this tells you is that Graham and his staff think that invoking her name is a good way to get people to give money—and that’s no small judgment, because these folks are past masters at this craft.  When most folks think of Billy Graham, they don’t think of him as a fundraiser, but all those crusades cost a great deal of money; who exactly was responsible for raising it initially I don’t know, but over the years, that’s one of the areas at which the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association has gotten very, very good.  If they think Gov. Palin’s picture and imprimatur will help them raise money from the sort of folks who support them, they’re no doubt right.

Why does this matter?  Well, besides the fact that Samaritan’s Purse is a good ministry that will do a great deal of good work with that money, it also matters because those same folks make up a sizable chunk of the Republican base—and for that matter, the Blue Dog wing of Democratic voters, many of whom now self-identify as Palin Democrats.  The calculation of Franklin Graham and the development folks at Samaritan’s Purse with regard to Gov. Palin’s probable effect on their fundraising isn’t a political one, but it has political implications; at its root, it’s the same calculation Saxby Chambliss made when he invited Gov. Palin to be the closer for his campaign in the runoff election for Senate in Georgia:  Sarah Palin has big coattails.  She inspires a lot of people across this country, and if she supports someone or something, that will encourage many, many other folks to do the same—with votes, time, money, whatever.  Whether it’s “Vote for Saxby” or “give money to Samaritan’s Purse,” if she says it, millions of people take it a lot more seriously than if someone else says it.  That matters.  It matters a lot.

This also matters because it’s a good gauge that all the Democratic efforts to smear this woman aren’t really working.  Sure, they’re no doubt serving to fire up the Party faithful, but outside of the elite echo chambers where people pull out lines to convinced each other of things of which they’re both already convinced, when it comes to actually changing the minds of the citizenry, they aren’t taking root.  For all the work the Democrat smear machine is putting into breaking her image as someone of high morals and ethics, that’s clearly how most people in this country think of her, or else her support wouldn’t be this useful to an evangelical ministry like Samaritan’s Purse; they clearly don’t see her as damaged goods, or they wouldn’t be parading her support the way they are.

One might also point out that it matters because it means that Graham and his staff have a better feel for the political realities in this country right now, even without trying, than the Republican National Committee, the National Republican Senatorial Committee, the National Republican Congressional Committee, and the various other party organs that exist inside that great echo chamber of the DC-NY corridor.  Were that not the case, the NRSC and NRCC would have hung on and waited for her to agree to attend their event (as she probably would have done) when she could do so at an appropriate point, rather than turning to Newt Gingrich as a speaker.

The bottom line is that this fundraising letter is just one more piece of evidence of Sarah Palin’s extraordinary appeal and connection to a vast swath of the American populace; Palin Power is a very real thing, and the folks at Samaritan’s Purse clearly judged it well worth their while to make a deliberate and intentional effort to tap into it.  (Which, since she supports and appreciates their efforts, was an entirely appropriate and valid thing for them to do.)  The sooner the national GOP starts doing so as well in an intelligent way—namely, without asking her to tap-dance to their tune for the privilege—the better off they’ll be.

Update:  When I posted this, I was so focused on the letter that I wasn’t thinking about the trip it recounts, so I didn’t link to the post Joseph Russo put up on that trip at the time.  That omission is now corrected.  It’s particularly significant because that post sparked people to donate to Samaritan’s Purse in honor of Gov. Palin, which probably contributed to their decision to highlight the trip.

 

John O’Sullivan sees Margaret Thatcher in Sarah Palin

Thanks to Joseph Russo for posting the link to this—it’s a great piece.  (Since it’s 1 AM and I can’t sleep, I also appreciate my computer working well enough so I could read it.)  O’Sullivan writes,

I know Margaret Thatcher. Margaret Thatcher is a friend of mine. And as a matter of fact, Margaret Thatcher and Sarah Palin have a great deal in common. . . .

Mrs. Palin has a long way to go to match [the world-historical figure who today is the gold standard of conservative statesmanship]. Circumstances may never give her the chance to do so. Even if she gets that chance, she may lack Mrs. Thatcher’s depths of courage, firmness and stamina—we only ever know such things in retrospect.

But she has plenty of time . . . to analyze America’s problems, recruit her own expert advice, and develop conservative solutions to them. She has obvious intelligence, drive, serious moral character, and a Reaganesque likability. Her likely Republican rivals such as Bobby Jindal and Mitt Romney, not to mention Barack Obama, have most of these same qualities too. But she shares with Mrs. Thatcher a very rare charisma. As Ronnie Millar, the latter’s speechwriter and a successful playwright, used to say in theatrical tones: She may be depressed, ill-dressed and having a bad hair day, but when the curtain rises, out onto the stage she steps looking like a billion dollars. That’s the mark of a star, dear boy. They rise to the big occasions.

Mrs. Palin had four big occasions in the late, doomed Republican campaign: her introduction by John McCain in Ohio, her speech at the GOP convention, her vice-presidential debate with Sen. Joe Biden, and her appearance on Saturday Night Live. With minimal preparation, she rose to all four of them. That’s the mark of a star.

If conservative intellectuals, Republican operatives and McCain “handlers” can’t see it, then so much the worse for them.

John O’Sullivan knows whereof he speaks.  Check it out.

A few tips of the hat

We’re having some internet problems here—no connection at the church today at all, and a pretty poor one here at home—so I haven’t had much success with any online work; but I thought I might be able to get a relatively quick links post through.

Jared Wilson has a couple strong posts up, “The Kingdom is For Those Who Know How to Die” and “Faith, Hope, and Love is About Proximity to Jesus.” I’ve also been meaning to note his excerpt from Skye Jethani’s new book The Divine Commodity, which I think dovetails with my recent post on worship.

Not to leave the rest of the Thinklings out, Philip has a good post on communicating the gospel, Bird makes a good point about repentance, and Bill asks an interesting question:  is the American church actually too macho?

I love Hap’s retelling of the story of Abigail.  If you’re not familiar with it, you can find the original in 1 Samuel 25.

Pauline Evans, to whom I haven’t linked in far too long, has a nifty little post up on the development of computers, and how the comparisons we use are in some ways quite misleading; she also has one up, I just discovered, on a couple children’s fantasy books that I think I’m going to need to read.  (This may follow nicely on our recent discovery in this household of Tamora Pierce.)

Debbie Berkley posted something last January that I’ve kept meaning to write about, reflecting on the uncertainty we face these days in the light of the wisdom of a fellow Christian from India:  “Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God.”  Sage counsel, and certainly no less applicable now, two months on.

And, on the subject of politics (and specifically political dirty tricks), Andrew Breitbart has had some interesting things to say of late about the online war liberals are waging (and winning) against conservatives.  Barack Obama promised to elevate the tone of political discourse in this country, but you don’t have to be a Sarah Palin supporter to recognize that some of his followers didn’t get the memo.

This isn’t everyone I’d like to mention, but I’m only linking to pages I can actually pull up, and it’s pretty hit-and-miss at the moment.  Still, I’m glad to note these, and maybe I’ll do another one soon to highlight the ones that wouldn’t come up.

Question on the twilight of the newspapers

This story on Hot Air (about an intelligent new strategy the Minneapolis Star-Tribune is trying to keep themselves afloat) got me thinking:  why all the liberal angst about newspapers going out of business?  Just think of the environmental benefits!  Think of all the trees cut down every year to produce the reams and reams of newsprint used by the newspapers that are now critically endangered (as well as the ones that have already gone extinct); how environmentally unenlightened of these heartless major corporations to insist that they must be allowed to distribute “a five-pound lump of paper” to millions of people every day in order to do their jobs.  Surely in this Age of Obama they should be required to Go Green just like everyone else and spare our nation’s forests, right?  Shouldn’t we view the demise of dead-tree editions across the country as a good thing, rather than go looking for ways to prop up their environmental rapacity by putting them on the public dole?. . . OK, be honest with me—is that too far over the top?  In all seriousness, I love a good newspaper (though they’re a lot fewer and farther between than those lamenting the state of the industry like to pretend), but it does occur to me that they’re getting a very different break from the Left in this country than a lot of industries.  That’s no real surprise, of course; after all, they’re a structural component of the American Left, plus they get to set the terms in which their current peril is reported, analyzed, and discussed—an advantage that was never given to the PR flacks for companies like Philip Morris or Enron.  Even so, as I think about it, I’m still a little surprised that I haven’t heard word one about what their failure could potentially do to pulp production in this country, either in terms of its environmental advantages or in terms of additional unemployment.  I can’t help thinking that if there were somehow an equivalent failure on the conservative side of the political spectrum, we’d be getting stories with headlines like “Silver Lining of Industry Collapse:  Will Save Millions of Acres of Forest, Experts Say.”

I have to admit, this makes me smile

I’ve been a fan of Law & Order almost since its inception.  Like most folks, my favorite characters over the show’s life are the two big ones, Det. Lenny Briscoe (Jerry Orbach, RIP) and EADA/DA Jack McCoy (Sam Waterston); part of that, probably, is that both actors have always struck me as people I’d enjoy knowing in real life, quite aside from the people they play.  Also like most folks, my favorite character after those two was ADA Abbie Carmichael (Angie Harmon), whom I really wish had had a significantly longer run on the show (especially as I didn’t care for her replacement at all)—which meant it was a very pleasant surprise (dare I pull a Chris Matthews and say a thrill ran up my leg?) to read that she’s a fan of Sarah Palin:

I admire any kind of woman like her. My whole motto is to know what I stand for and know what I don’t stand for and have the courage to live my life accordingly and she does exactly that. The fact that this woman has made the decisions she’s made and literally lived her life according to that and takes heat for it is absolutely disgusting to me,” she added. “People cannot look at this woman. I really think they’re afraid of her and her morals, ethics and values and the fact that she hangs on them.

Of course, Fox News felt the need to conclude the article with a bunch of celebrities telling them how wonderful Barack Obama is and what a great job he’s doing; but Angie Harmon got the bulk of the piece to praise Gov. Palin (and also to express her dissatisfaction with President Obama, and with being accused of racism for not being liberal), and that’s an enjoyable little spark for the day.HT:  Joseph Russo