The United States is a compassionate nation. We are proud that we do more than any other country to help the needy, the struggling, and the underprivileged all over the world. But as President of the United States, my highest loyalty, my greatest compassion, and my constant concern is for America's children, America's struggling workers, and America's forgotten communities. I want our youth to grow up to achieve great things. I want our poor to have their chance to rise.Emphasis mine. That's the winning line from last night's State of the Union address. If you want to know why a year of unrelenting attacks from the opposing party and the mainstream news media (distinction without a difference, of course) have not felled Le Grand Orange, this is your answer. Donald Trump is speaking to an audience that much of Washington has chosen to ignore. And when the Democrats in the hall sit on their hands, they send another message.
So tonight, I am extending an open hand to work with members of both parties -- Democrats and Republicans -- to protect our citizens of every background, color, religion, and creed. My duty, and the sacred duty of every elected official in this chamber, is to defend Americans -- to protect their safety, their families, their communities, and their right to the American Dream. Because Americans are dreamers too.
As a general rule, SOTU speeches don't move the needle much. This one might, not so much because of what Donald Trump said, but because it's become clear that the two parties may share a land mass, but they live in different countries. And the country the Democrats are proffering is a foreign land.
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So let’s run out Kipling’s “Gods of the Copybook Headings” (circa 1919) one more time.
The Gods of the Copybook Headings
AS I PASS through my incarnations in every age and race,
I make my proper prostrations to the Gods of the Market Place.
Peering through reverent fingers I watch them flourish and fall,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings, I notice, outlast them all.
We were living in trees when they met us. They showed us each in turn
That Water would certainly wet us, as Fire would certainly burn:
But we found them lacking in Uplift, Vision and Breadth of Mind,
So we left them to teach the Gorillas while we followed the March of Mankind.
We moved as the Spirit listed. They never altered their pace,
Being neither cloud nor wind-borne like the Gods of the Market Place,
But they always caught up with our progress, and presently word would come
That a tribe had been wiped off its icefield, or the lights had gone out in Rome.
With the Hopes that our World is built on they were utterly out of touch,
They denied that the Moon was Stilton; they denied she was even Dutch;
They denied that Wishes were Horses; they denied that a Pig had Wings;
So we worshipped the Gods of the Market Who promised these beautiful things.
When the Cambrian measures were forming, They promised perpetual peace.
They swore, if we gave them our weapons, that the wars of the tribes would cease.
But when we disarmed They sold us and delivered us bound to our foe,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "Stick to the Devil you know."
On the first Feminian Sandstones we were promised the Fuller Life
(Which started by loving our neighbour and ended by loving his wife)
Till our women had no more children and the men lost reason and faith,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "The Wages of Sin is Death."
In the Carboniferous Epoch we were promised abundance for all,
By robbing selected Peter to pay for collective Paul;
But, though we had plenty of money, there was nothing our money could buy,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "If you don't work you die."
Then the Gods of the Market tumbled, and their smooth-tongued wizards withdrew
And the hearts of the meanest were humbled and began to believe it was true
That All is not Gold that Glitters, and Two and Two make Four
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings limped up to explain it once more.
As it will be in the future, it was at the birth of Man
There are only four things certain since Social Progress began.
That the Dog returns to his Vomit and the Sow returns to her Mire,
And the burnt Fool's bandaged finger goes wabbling back to the Fire;
And that after this is accomplished, and the brave new world begins
When all men are paid for existing and no man must pay for his sins,
As surely as Water will wet us, as surely as Fire will burn,
The Gods of the Copybook Headings with terror and slaughter return!
The Gods are always available for consult.
hey... um... i know you are a NeverTrumper... but i beleive its time you stopped refering to him as La Grand Orange. he is the President of the United States. show some respect for the office. (you never called Obama 'Nappy Head', did you? or La Grand Negro?)
I think there's a difference between "le grand orange" and race-based things. I've been happy to refer, for example, to Barack Hussein Daley Blagojevich Ayers Khalidi Rezko Wright Pfleger Obama for years to mock his well-known friends in low places.
And personally, I have to wonder whether picking at him in certain ways helps him behave better. Still have a lot of concerns, but things are a lot better at this point than I'd dared to dream.
Gino,
Was a NeverTrumper. That’s over now. If he does things I support, I support him. If not, I don’t.
One of the advantages of the First Amendment is that I can still mock the president as I see fit. Some of the lefties who used to visit my blog didn’t like it when I referred to Mr. Trump’s predecessor as the “Leader of the Free World” in a mocking tone. I am willing to trim my sail to reflect the circumstances, i.e., that Mr. Trump is president. But he is the president, not my ruler. I am a citizen, not a subject. So if I choose a mocking appellation for him, that is what I choose. By your leave.
And by the by, if this were a racial thing, it would be something like “Le Grand Vanilla Bean” or something like that. But it’s not. I think you know that, good sir.
Bubba has it right — everyone, up to and including the current Leader of the Free World, ought to have the privilege of being mocked by his fellow citizens. And Bubba is also right about the larger point -- Trump has performed far better than I had reason to expect. So credit where due.
Race? You mean physical appearance. If it's racist to call Obama Le Grande Negro, it's racist to call trump Le grand orange. Racism is a two way street, and repeatedly making the same references is kinda sophmoric. Just my opinion.
Orange is the fake bake and hair dye Trump uses, Gino. The corollary would be if Obama had used skin lightener.
Just my opinion.
We'll agree to disagree on this one, then. In case you hadn't noticed, I often like to be sophomoric. It's been a specialty of the house since I started this thing back in '05. By the way, the person who was best known as "Le Grande Orange" is Rusty Staub, an old ballplayer who spent a few years with the Montreal Expos in the early 70s. He was a full-on ginger and a big dude with good power. One could have a worse comparison, for sure.
Oh, and by the way, great blog post over at your place. We need more cowbell!
Maybe he did. Maybe he used a darkener. If he used a darkener, would it be racist?
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