Today’s Candorville cracked me up because I recently was showered with some of what I call “talk show drunk” rhetoric.
That goes back to my brief career in talk radio, which began with an evening show, six to nine, but advanced to a morning show from nine to noon.
The night show rarely went without at least one caller who was drunk, and would attempt to cover by speaking in what he thought was an amazingly intelligent and articulate manner. See Tyrone, above.
When I switched to the morning show, I figured I’d left that behind me, but one of my first shows was with a pair of people from some sobriety program. I forget exactly who they were, but when one of our first callers was amazingly intelligent and articulate, they just shook their heads in frustration — drunk as a skunk at 9:15 in the morning!
Back in the days when we all had desktop computers, I used to recommend keeping the computer in the attic and the liquor cabinet in the basement, since reversing them would lead to serious accidents.
But thanks to smartphones and tablets, drunkards no longer have to step away from their supply while they post their amazingly intelligent and articulate opinions on line.
And if I seem to be judgmental, there are, as Paul Berge notes, all sorts of perfectly sober people willing to share their uncharitable opinions with the world, and I’m far more appalled by them.
There’s a much better chance that alcoholics will seek help to lighten their load.
I’m also amused, in a dark way, by the particular phenomenon Berge points out, which is that, like Janet Jackson’s boob, the uproar is often over things few would have noticed if it hadn’t been pointed out.
It’s like the old joke about the woman who called the police because her neighbor showers without lowering the shades on his bathroom window.
“But, ma’am, that’s four lots away,” the policeman says. “You can hardly see it from here.”
“I know, ” she replies. “You have to use these binoculars.”
From a strategic marketing point of view, this means that you can pay to air a commercial once and then reap the benefits of having the news programs air it over and over again for free while they discuss the controversy.
After all, that was how our current president managed to stretch his promotional budget into hours of free publicity.
Thankfully, Mrs. Grundy has only so much power to limit social change.
There was a point at which the bigots were all going to stop buying Cheerios because General Mills ran a commercial featuring a mixed-race couple, and Cheerios is still on the shelves.
And lord knows mixed-race couples now seem to outnumber same-race couples on commercials. Or maybe I’m just noticing them.
Berge’s cartoon is specifically about same-sex couples and transgender people, and there’s a whole lot more wiggle room for advertisers in that area, depending on the product and how they frame the scenario.
But Mrs. Grundy has her binoculars ready.
Mike Luckovich comments on the apparent hypocrisy of Evangelical Christians who forgive all sorts of obviously sinful behavior on the part of the President.
But we could have seen it coming.
In the days leading up to the 2016 election, PBS aired a pair of lengthy, in-depth portraits of the two candidates, and one point of departure was religious.
In her youth, Hillary Rodham attended a church that preached social justice and encouraged parishioners to become active in serving the poor and pursuing reform, which she did.
Meanwhile, young Donald Trump, before his family exiled him to military school, went to the church of Norman Vincent Peale, who preached a doctrine of positive thinking that had very little to do with the teachings of the New Testament and much more to do with feeling good about yourself.
It’s the classic “grace vs. works” divide, in its widest division.
In one school of theology, you must seek constant forgiveness for sin, sometimes through a confessional, but always through good works.
In the other, you are saved by your faith, which, in its extreme form, means that you can continue to sin knowing that you have been forgiven.
The hypocrisy enters when Mrs. Grundy is sure of the righteousness of her tribe, but questions everyone else’s.
But it’s okay: She’s forgiven.
Which is the only way anyone can justify our
Juxtaposition of the Day
The notion that you could be fired for mishandling a major crisis at your company and still walk away with a multi-million dollar settlement is a related concept.
Dennis A. Muilenburg is not only forgiven but apparently rewarded.
In his world, he deserves that golden parachute for all the good work he did before he screwed up. Or possibly just because, well, that’s how it works.
And since neither the homeless panhandler or the poor senior citizen are part of his world, their respective plights seem unconnected and irrelevant.
Until those people at the top of the pile trace their economic problems to the cost of adding dessert to the Meals of Wheels lunches.
Marland could have noted the places where the Meals of Wheels food has stopped entirely, but his citing of lost desserts emphasizes the chintzy attitude that allows the people at the top to disclaim any responsibility for the people at the bottom.
Fell emphasizes that divide, the different world of the One Percent and the Rest of Us.
And, again, nothing Jesus may have said about rich men, camels and the eyes of needles applies to advocates of the Gospel of Success in which God rewards his righteous.
We can all play spread sheet games to prove whatever point we want, one way or other, but the plain truth is that blaming Social Security, Medicare and food aid for the poor for our deficit is, for those who read the Bible rather than using it as a bludgeon, quite literally a God damned lie.