Navigator, Navigator rise up and be strong
The morning is here and there's work to be done
Take your pick and your shovel and the bold dynamite
For to shift a few tons of this earthly delight
Yes to shift a few tons of this earthly delight
In my youth, there was a phrase my father sometimes used against me that never failed to cut me to the core, "You broke your shovel". The rebuke was deployed when I had fouled up some task beyond fixing, and more than that, demonstrated that I could not be counted on due to a lack of trustworthiness and character. Though there was work to be done, and my father in need of assistance, and I otherwise capable of lending a hand, so shabby was my performance as to render myself useless. An altogether ignominious sending to the showers. Think of the imagery, a mountain of earthly delight to be shifted, and me, standing hapless with only a handle in my hand. You don't get a badge of dishonor like that through mere negligence or accident, you earn it.
Thomas L. Friedman has given President Bush an unbreakable shovel. Its like's Friedman's that robotic kid from "The Polar Express", squeezing closed his eyes, praying to himself, "I do believe! I do believe!" and presto! he is still able to hear the magic bell! No amount of lying, corruption, incompetence and disaster can break Freidman's will to believe that this Administration operates in good faith.
Things have gotten bad enough for Thomas L. that in his latest column, "Will Pigs Fly?", he preempts the field and gets the drop on everyone by calling himself "weak in the knees", in need of some spine, and, of course, a "moron". Now, "Moron" that's a name no one would self-apply where I come from. And also, uh Dude, Moron is not the preferred nomenclature, uh "Idiot", please. Friedman's words have become like silver iodide seeded onto cumulus clouds, always producing a downpour of ridicule and laughter. Still, there's something pathetic in the spectacle of the man trying to beat everyone to the punch.
In the face of all that has happened over the last few years, the endless rounds of empty Administration promises and outright lies, and in full knowledge of who George W.T.F. Bush is, and the oily spring from whence he sprung, Friedman is, in his own words, giving Bush "a new reputation to live up to". This new Friedmanified Bush is an environmental progressive, someone suddenly in absolute earnest and concerned about global warming and the state of American education. There's not a moment to lose! Crank up the windmills! Get Willie Nelson with his Crisco-fueled car on the horn!
And this new Bush, sanctified and transformed by the munificence of the Mustache of Understanding, well for this Bush, words have actual meaning beyond their power to fool the rubes for another day. I have come to expect so much from Friedman, but even so, he has the capacity to astound. Friedman's blumpy gullibility produces this bizarrely insane sentence:
"When the president changes language on an issue like this - in a sustained manner (and we still have to see if it will be sustained), the whole country and bureaucracy starts to talk differently. "
Whatever can he mean? No one believes a thing this guy says. Even Peggy Noonan is tuning him out: "The president's State of the Union Address will be little noted and not long remembered. There was a sense that he was talking at, not to, the country. . . . It went through a reported 30 drafts, was touched by many hands, and seemed it. Not precisely a pudding without a theme, but a thin porridge." But even Friedman may be becoming dimly aware that Bush is long on promise, short on delivery. After issuing Bush his 115th Free Pass, Friedman includes this ominous warning shot: "And if he fails to carry through with this energy initiative, I'll be the first to rip for it". I foresee many sleepless nights at the White House, "Karl, drop everything you're doing and get on this energy addiction thing right away. There's not a moment to lose! Friedman's on our case!"
The Laughing Stock climbs ever higher.
The morning is here and there's work to be done
Take your pick and your shovel and the bold dynamite
For to shift a few tons of this earthly delight
Yes to shift a few tons of this earthly delight
In my youth, there was a phrase my father sometimes used against me that never failed to cut me to the core, "You broke your shovel". The rebuke was deployed when I had fouled up some task beyond fixing, and more than that, demonstrated that I could not be counted on due to a lack of trustworthiness and character. Though there was work to be done, and my father in need of assistance, and I otherwise capable of lending a hand, so shabby was my performance as to render myself useless. An altogether ignominious sending to the showers. Think of the imagery, a mountain of earthly delight to be shifted, and me, standing hapless with only a handle in my hand. You don't get a badge of dishonor like that through mere negligence or accident, you earn it.
Thomas L. Friedman has given President Bush an unbreakable shovel. Its like's Friedman's that robotic kid from "The Polar Express", squeezing closed his eyes, praying to himself, "I do believe! I do believe!" and presto! he is still able to hear the magic bell! No amount of lying, corruption, incompetence and disaster can break Freidman's will to believe that this Administration operates in good faith.
Things have gotten bad enough for Thomas L. that in his latest column, "Will Pigs Fly?", he preempts the field and gets the drop on everyone by calling himself "weak in the knees", in need of some spine, and, of course, a "moron". Now, "Moron" that's a name no one would self-apply where I come from. And also, uh Dude, Moron is not the preferred nomenclature, uh "Idiot", please. Friedman's words have become like silver iodide seeded onto cumulus clouds, always producing a downpour of ridicule and laughter. Still, there's something pathetic in the spectacle of the man trying to beat everyone to the punch.
In the face of all that has happened over the last few years, the endless rounds of empty Administration promises and outright lies, and in full knowledge of who George W.T.F. Bush is, and the oily spring from whence he sprung, Friedman is, in his own words, giving Bush "a new reputation to live up to". This new Friedmanified Bush is an environmental progressive, someone suddenly in absolute earnest and concerned about global warming and the state of American education. There's not a moment to lose! Crank up the windmills! Get Willie Nelson with his Crisco-fueled car on the horn!
And this new Bush, sanctified and transformed by the munificence of the Mustache of Understanding, well for this Bush, words have actual meaning beyond their power to fool the rubes for another day. I have come to expect so much from Friedman, but even so, he has the capacity to astound. Friedman's blumpy gullibility produces this bizarrely insane sentence:
"When the president changes language on an issue like this - in a sustained manner (and we still have to see if it will be sustained), the whole country and bureaucracy starts to talk differently. "
Whatever can he mean? No one believes a thing this guy says. Even Peggy Noonan is tuning him out: "The president's State of the Union Address will be little noted and not long remembered. There was a sense that he was talking at, not to, the country. . . . It went through a reported 30 drafts, was touched by many hands, and seemed it. Not precisely a pudding without a theme, but a thin porridge." But even Friedman may be becoming dimly aware that Bush is long on promise, short on delivery. After issuing Bush his 115th Free Pass, Friedman includes this ominous warning shot: "And if he fails to carry through with this energy initiative, I'll be the first to rip for it". I foresee many sleepless nights at the White House, "Karl, drop everything you're doing and get on this energy addiction thing right away. There's not a moment to lose! Friedman's on our case!"
The Laughing Stock climbs ever higher.
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