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Posted by The Happy Tutor
Dr. Larry James, citing Kierkegaard.
Posted at 10:02 PM | Permalink
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What need of churches, when one can preach from dumpsters and blogs?
August 20, 2007 at 07:31 AM
I was hoping you would see the post, Akma. We preach, yes, but to no effect. An empty speech act without force or effect.
August 20, 2007 at 08:25 AM
Here's one people like. Got a full five stars, not a dissenter in the bunch (16,000 and counting.)
August 20, 2007 at 11:59 AM
A punch in the nose is a good sermon, too. Forever lost to us, I'm afraid.
The scene now dissolves to a MONTAGE, first the headlines
appearing over Jeff's incredulous expression as he reads. He
starts walking--hands clenched, murder in his eye--he meets
a reporter of the night before, grabs him, socks him and
marches on. He meets another one in a different place--socko
again! Finally he smacks Nosey--and marches on--. Next we
see a pair of DOORS, on which is printed "Press Club," and
when these doors are pushed aside violently the PRESS CLUB
BAR is visible as Jeff stands glaring. Newspaper men are at
the bar and at tables ranged along the wall. Conversation--
smoke. Sweeney, Farrell, Flood, Summers and Diz are there--
NOSEY appears with Diz and Sweeney, at one of the tables.
He's on a rampage. The streets aren't
safe. I came up here to--
(Looking toward door
Heads turn in that direction, as Jeff starts toward Nosey.
When he gets within five steps, he suddenly lunges forward
and grabs him. He draws his right hand back to hit--the boys
leap in--and a free-for-all is on. Chairs and tables go over.
Finally, Jeff is swarmed under--down on his back on the long
seat against the wall while Nosey is under a table.
Wait a minute...
Take it easy, Senator...
We don't go in for slugging around
If you can behave yourself now...
Jeff stop struggling.
(from under a table)
Meet Senator Smith, boys.
They pile off Jeff--who sits up slowly, looking the worse
for wear. His pugnacity is gone, and he is calm, hurt and
You act like a man with something on
What's the idea--charging in like
that on the gentlemen of the Press--
*Gentlemen*! Gentlemen are supposed
to believe in something decent.
Instead of twisting facts and making
a joke of everything--why don't you
tell the people the *truth* for a
Well, the man wants the truth!
"What *is* truth?" asked so-and-so,
and turned away!
That's what I said--the *truth*!
How'll you have it--dished out--or
in a bottle?
Well, if that's what you want, Senator--
sit down--. We'll see what we can
There isn't a chance I'd find it
Why--*truth* is the *business* of a
few of us correspondents, Senator--
Leaving out the Noseys, of course--
Yes? And the people of this country
pick up their papers--and what do
Well--*this morning* they read that
an incompetent clown arrived in
Washington parading like a member of
Jeff makes a leap for Diz.
The men are on him and push him back.
Come on, now--that's enough of that.
If you thought as much of being honest--
as you do of being smart--!
Honest! Why, we're the only ones who
can *afford* to be honest about what
*we* tell the voters. We don't have
to be re-elected, like politicians--
For instance, we tell 'em when the
phonies, crackpots and hillbillies
come here to make their laws--
And if it's the *truth* you want--
what are *you* doing in the Senate?
What do *you* know about laws--and
making laws--and what the people
I--I don't *pretend* to know!
Then what are you doing in the Senate?
What's he *doing*? Why--*honorary*
Sure! *I* see! When the country needs
men up there who *know* and have
courage--like it never did before--
he's just going to decorate a chair
and get himself *honored*--!
Oh, but he'll *vote*! Sure. Like his
colleague tells him--
Yes, *sir*--like a Christmas tiger.
He'll nod his head and vote 'yes'.
You're not a Senator! You're an
honorary *stooge*! And should be
Have a drink, Senator!
As the last crack hits, Jeff gets to his feet like a shot,
as if ready to kill. The men stand firm and Jeff stops dead.
He glares around; they stare back in contempt. Jeff's anger
flows away. He finally says quietly:
(after a pause)
And he starts grimly for the door--the men falling aside
quietly to let him through.
The scene dissolves to PAINE'S LIVING ROOM, with JEFFERSON
speaking tensely to PAINE.
I mean, sir--if I'm going to stay in
the Senate--I ought to know what I'm
doing--at least, I ought to try to
study the Bills that are coming up--
The *Bills*? Jeff--let me advise you--
as your father would--politics is a
business--sometimes a cruel business.
In your time here, you couldn't even
start on those Bills. They're put
together by legal minds--after a
long study. Why, after twenty years,
I can't understand half of them
myself. No, really, Jeff--in your
Well, then--I--I don't feel I can
Mr. Rove Leaving Washington
August 20, 2007 at 12:02 PM
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