The Northwest Courant
Apologies to and dedicated in the memory of B. Franklin’s New-England Courant
“An irregular blog” by Paul B. Bader
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Thanksgiving 2009- What we all have to be thankful for. ___________________________________________________________

What’s wrong with a cool, thoughtful, articulate & optimistic president?

Why we all need to cut President Obama a break or why we are so lucky to be in America at the beginning of the 21st Century

Barack Obama is the Rodney Dangerfield of the present American political theatre: He just can’t get any respect.  It is just so much easier to criticize than to give support. The present state of affairs in American politics reminds us of Mario Cuomo’s quote, “that to campaign is poetry to govern is prose.”

The president of the United States is one of the most difficult jobs in the world. Listening yesterday to Rush Limbaugh the great billowing tent of hate and his minions suggest the most inane garbage while simultaneously  shilling for the insurance death machine is simply amazing. And yet, we have so much to be thankful for in the first year of President Obama’s presidency already.

The world sees us differently now.

From my good friend Phil in the UK I received the following missive:

“The UK is worse placed than any other country in the Euro Zone because of our dim-wit of a PM.  We can’t wait for next May to sling him out on his ass.  Having said that; you guys must have been chuffed to bits to see Obama get in after that asshole Bush.  I know he’s getting some bad press over in the States right now but he’s pure gold on world stage and is repositioning the US reputation to where it deserves to be.  Louise and I really hope the Senate and the House of Representatives will stick with him so he can make a difference”

Courtesy of:  P. Pratt,  Salesforce Ltd.

The world did not end.

(more…)

Still Life: Cafe Scene

A café, a room, under roof and leaf

Falling. It is grey; it is wet inside

And out. Lids sag from the hours, hands

Locked in a flower. Sugar and salt

Look the same. Slowly, the grey

Turns to yellow, the front to the back.

Proverbs drop through the floor’s

Cracks. Broken glass hides under

An unbalanced chair. Its sparkled

Edges have begun to warm. Slippery

Grains of polished wood lie quiet

And smothered. Smoke from cracked

Lips remembers an image—

Colourless lovers walking in rain.

A scarf of brightest red

Flames, breaks out from the frame.

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Posted by Hannah S. at 17:36

via Works of Hannah S.

Thanks and a tip o’the hat to The Awl for reminding me of this! ~blm