2.12.2026 – way is plain, peaceful

way is plain, peaceful,
generous, just – if followed
God forever bless

According to Wikipedia, The 1862 State of the Union Address was written by the 16th president of the United States, Abraham Lincoln, and delivered to the 37th United States Congress, on Monday, December 1, 1862, amid the ongoing American Civil War.

This address was Lincoln’s longest State of the Union Address, consisting of 8,385 words.

In the closing paragraphs of this address, Lincoln penned words which have been remembered and quoted frequently by presidents and other American political figures. Lincoln’s concluding remarks were as follows:

The dogmas of the quiet past are inadequate to the stormy present.

The occasion is piled high with difficulty, and we must rise with the occasion.

As our case is new, so we must think anew and act anew. We must disenthrall ourselves, and then we shall save our country.

Fellow-citizens, we can not escape history.

We of this Congress and this Administration will be remembered in spite of ourselves.

No personal significance or insignificance can spare one or another of us.

The fiery trial through which we pass will light us down in honor or dishonor to the latest generation.

We say we are for the Union.

The world will not forget that we say this.

We know how to save the Union.

The world knows we do know how to save it.

We, even we here, hold the power and bear the responsibility.

In giving freedom to the slave we assure freedom to the free — honorable alike in what we give and what we preserve. We shall nobly save or meanly lose the last best hope of earth.

Other means may succeed; this could not fail.

The way is plain, peaceful, generous, just — a way which if followed the world will forever applaud and God must forever bless.

Can’t pass by Mr. Lincoln on his birthday.

It used to be a big day.

Probably still should be.

More so not that other people have elevated the office of President of the United States.

But that other people have demonstrated the depths to which the office can sink.

I think of what Alistair Cooke wrote about Mr. Lincoln in his book, America:

“It is difficult, and in some quarters thought to be almost tasteless, to talk sense about Lincoln.

But we must try.

For the holy image and the living man were very far apart, and keeping them so does no service either to Lincoln or to the art of government.

Like all strong characters, he was well hated, and like most frontiersmen who have come to high office—like Harry Truman and Lyndon Johnson—he was ridiculed for his directness and country manners.

The London Times called him “the Baboon.”

Lincoln had a gangling gait, a disturbing fondness for rough stories, and a maddening habit of being, in a kind of tooth-sucking way, wiser and sharper than you. (To make it worse, most of the time he was.)”

On the 100th anniversary of Mr. Lincoln’s birth, biographer Ida Tarbell spoke at the University of Michigan on the topic, “Abraham Lincoln : an address the Centennial anniversary of Lincoln’s birth.”

Ms. Tarbell’s address was part of 1908-1909 schedule of speakers arranged by the Students’ Lecture Association of the University of Michigan.

I was fascinated to see the Hon. W. Bourke Cockran also on the list.

He is the Bourke Cockran in this oft told story of Mr. Churchill … “Adlai Stevenson, himself a notable speaker, often reminisced about his last meeting with Churchill. I asked him on whom or what he had based his oratorical style. Churchill replied, “It was an American statesman who inspired me and taught me how to use every note of the human voice like an organ.” Winston then to my amazement started to quote long excerpts from Bourke Cockran’s speeches of 60 years before. “He was my model,” Churchill said. “I learned from him how to hold thousands in thrall.”

It must have been an interesting lecture to attend.

Ms. Tarbell spoke in University Hall, a hall that held 2500 people in a building that stood where Angell Hall now stands on the UofM campus.

She was introduced by the President of the University, James Angell and gave a lecture that, as stated in The Michigan Daily account, was made by the “probably the best informed person living in regard to Lincoln.”

Her final words on the subject?

It is doubtful if this country, if any country, has produced a man so worthy of our study and our following as is Abraham Lincoln.

Who indeed is there so fit to guide us in that highest of tasks – the giving of service?

Whoever saturated himself so with his subject?

Whoever trusted more utterly to the integrity of his logic, and to the appeal for the sense of human justice?

​Whoever put aside with more contempt all the tricks of his trade – appeals to emotion simply to stir emotion, wit simply to arouse a laugh, subterfuges and evasion to escape valid objection?

Whoever handled with more honesty and respect his tasks?

Whoever struggled harder to understand not only with his head but with his heart and understanding, wrestled more to make others understand?

​Whoever looked more deeply, more gently, into the hearts of men, and having looked, put into more moving words what he had seen?

He has no parallel.

He stands in a towering lonely figure – a man who, by the persistent and reverential following of his own highest instincts, unaided, raised himself from the soil to place of the First American.

Now, 217 years after Mr. Lincoln’s birth … well, its beyond belief isn’t it.

2.11.2026 – game of consequences

game of consequences
to which we all sit down, the …
hanger-back not least

Books were the proper remedy:

books of vivid human import,

forcing upon their minds the issues,

pleasures,

business,

importance

and immediacy of that life in which they stand;

books of smiling or heroic temper,

to excite or to console;

books of a large design,

shadowing the complexity of that game of consequences to which we all sit down,

the hanger-back not least.

From the article. Old Mortality by Robert Louis Stevenson in Longman’s Magazine,1884 May.

Longman’s Magazine was first published in November 1882 by C. J. Longman, publisher of Longmans, Green & Co. of London. It superseded Fraser’s Magazine (published 1830 to 1882). A total of 276 monthly issues had been published when the last number came out in October 1905.

Longman’s focused on fiction, debuting work by James Payn, Margaret Oliphant, Thomas Hardy, Henry James, Edith Nesbit, Frank Anstey, Robert Louis Stevenson, H. Rider Haggard, Rudyard Kipling, Walter Besant, and others.

According to the Quote Investigator, Robert Louis Stevenson (of Treasure Island fame) did say,  books of a large design, shadowing the complexity of that game of consequences to which we all sit down.

Mr. Stevenson DID NOT SAY “Sooner or Later We All Sit Down To the Banquet of Consequences“.

While I like the warning of Sooner or Later We All Sit Down To the Banquet of Consequences, I really like that the original quote, books of a large design, shadowing the complexity of that game of consequences to which we all sit down includes that final bit of the hanger-back not least.

When Mr. Lincoln talked in this vein, he wrote in his 1862 message to Congress, We … will be remembered in spite of ourselves. No personal significance or insignificance can spare one or another of us. The fiery trial through which we pass will light us down in honor or dishonor to the latest generation.

I thought of the column Republicans, you own Trump’s racist video about the Obamas where Rex Hupke said: You don’t get to express allegiance to Trump and then casually step aside when something like this happens. You own it. It is what you are supporting.

To recap:

You don’t get to express allegiance to Trump and then casually step aside when something like this happens.

You own it. It is what you are supporting.

We will be remembered in spite of ourselves.

No personal significance or insignificance can spare one or another of us.

Sooner or later we all sit down to the banquet of consequences

That game of consequences to which we all sit down.

The hanger-back not least.

As it says in the Bible (Matthew 11:15) …

Whoever has ears, let them hear.

2.10.2026 – treat with the fairness

treat with the fairness
and respect that we deserve
self-defeating move

Amid a trade war and a deepening rift between the United States and its northern neighbor, Mr. Trump said that he would “not allow” the opening of the Gordie Howe International Bridge, scheduled to open early this year for traffic between Detroit and Windsor, Ontario, “until the United States is fully compensated for everything we have given them, and also, importantly, Canada treats the United States with the Fairness and Respect that we deserve.”

The Canadian Chamber of Commerce, the nation’s largest business lobbying group, denounced the president’s threat in a statement, writing that “whether this proves real or simply threatened to keep uncertainty high — blocking or barricading bridges is a self-defeating move.”

It was not immediately clear how Mr. Trump would block the opening of the bridge. Its construction was paid for by Canada, and a public-private arrangement , under which Canada and Michigan would jointly operate the crossing, gives Michigan part ownership.

From the article, Trump Threatens to Block Opening of New Bridge to Canada in the New York Times on Feb. 10. 2026.

I first heard the story on the drive into work while listening to NPR’s Morning Edition.

The story quoted the above quote, “until the United States is fully compensated for everything we have given them, and also, importantly, Canada treats the United States with the Fairness and Respect that we deserve.” and added … it is not immediately clear what that means.

I could focus this essay on the old saying about getting what you ask for and couple that with the admonition, … treats the United States with the Fairness and Respect that we deserve but that would be too obvious.

What we deserve in the way of fairness and respect when we are shooting our own citizens, blowing up speedboats in international waters and imposing huge tariffs … but I digress.

If you have never seen it, the movie Salmon Fishing in the Yemen is a nice escape for a couple of hours.

The story opens with the British Prime Minister needing a feel good story to splash on the current news cycle.

The Press Secretary gets her orders to come up with a story and she goes back to her office and walks into a room of staffers and computers and announces “We need a good news story” and the staffers dive into their computers and start searching.

For the sake of the story, the best they can come up with is that an rich Sheik from Yemen would like to fund an effort to introduce salmon fishing on a river in Yemen.

Even tho the Press Secretray says, Is that the best you puffed-up Oxbridge-educated moronic buffoons can come up with?

They say yes and off the movie goes.

HERE IS THE POINT.

At the white house is there a room of people, sitting at computers, searching for the next story for that guy in office to make an issue of?

Is someone yelling, come on, come on, find something.

And with a news cycle filled with protentional land mines did one of those people notice that the new bridge in Detroit was nearing completetion.

And for that person did the dots connect in their brain that the bridge in Detroit went to Canada and that Canada was currently on the naughty list, (bad people in Canada, bad, very bad, Gordie Howe was not an American) and presto-chango, there it was.

Did the staffer yell, I GOT I GOT!

And someone calls out TELL US TELL US.

BLOCK THE NEW BRIDGE TO CANADA THAT IS ABOUT TO OPEN IN DETROIT! the staffer yells.

LOVE IT LOVE IT the room cheeers.

AND, contributes another, WE KEEP IT CLOSED UNTIL THOSE CANADIANS TREAT US WTIH THE FAIRNESS AND RESPECT WE DESERVE.

THAT’S PERFECT they all yell.

TYPE IT UP someone shouts.

Really?

Seriously?

Who comes up with this stuff?

It would be funny if it wasn’t so sad.

2.9.2026 – blue waves, green waves swept

blue waves, green waves swept
leaving shallow pools of light
here, there on the sand

The sun rose higher. Blue waves, green waves swept a quick fan over the beach, circling the spike of sea-holly and leaving shallow pools of light here and there on the sand. A faint black rim was left behind them. The rocks which had been misty and soft hardened and were marked with red clefts.

Sharp stripes of shadow lay on the grass, and the dew dancing in the tips of the flowers and leaves made the garden like a mosaic of single sparks not yet formed into one whole. The birds, whose breasts were specked canary and rose, now sang a strain or two together, wildly, like skaters rollicking arm-in-arm, and were suddenly silent, breaking asunder.

The sun laid broader blades upon the house. The light touched something green in the window corner and made it a lump of emerald, a cave of pure green like stoneless fruit. It sharpened the edges of chairs and tables and stitched white tablecloths with fine gold wires. As the light increased a bud here and there split asunder and shook out flowers, green veined and quivering, as if the effort of opening had set them rocking, and pealing a faint carillon as they beat their frail clappers against their white walls. Everything became softly amorphous, as if the china of the plate flowed and the steel of the knife were liquid. Meanwhile the concussion of the waves breaking fell with muffled thuds, like logs falling, on the shore.

From The Waves by Virginia Woolf, Hogarth Press, Tavistock Square, London, 1931

2.8.2026 – once rhetorical

once rhetorical
exaggerations feeling
less hyperbolic

Adapted from a paragraph in the article in the Guardian, The world heard JD Vance being booed at the Olympics. Except for viewers in the US by Bryan Armen Graham in Milan where Mr. Graham writes with a lot of wonderful words:

But there is a difference between contextual pressure and visible reality distortion.

When global audiences can compare feeds in real time, the latter begins to resemble something else entirely: not editorial judgment, but narrative management.

Which is why comparisons to Soviet-style state-controlled broadcasting models – once breathless rhetorical exaggerations – are starting to feel less hyperbolic.

It’s been a year without joy.

Really/

Think about it.

Bright spots to be sure.

Got two new grand kids for one.

But the bright spots have been few and far between the low spots and the daily drudge is more drudge like every day.

It got me to thinking about history.

Dark periods in history.

World War II

What was it like at home?

I am sure there were birthdays and graduations and new grand kids.

But in the back of your mind, there had to be that nagging feeling that being too happy, feeling too good … just wasn’t right.

There was a shadow over all other experiences.

A shadow that could not be erased.

There were reminders for the people at home.

Gas was rationed.

Not because there wasn’t gas but because one, there wasn’t rubber for tires, and two, it reminded folks there was a war on.

Food was rationed.

And there were those flags with blue and gold stars in windows of homes and businesses.

If your household had someone on active service, you put a flag with a blue star in your window.

If that someone died, you put a flag with a gold star in your window.

This is where those Blue Star Memorial Highway signs and the Association of Gold Star Mothers comes from.

Daily reminders that all was not right with the country and with the world at large.

I am told that the church my family attended had a banner made with 34 blue stars on it.

How would like to be looking at that during your Sunday prayers?

This drawing by James Thurber appeared in the New Yorker Magazine on January 15, 1944 after two years of war.

The caption reads, “There is no laughter in this house.”

On the opposite page from this drawing was another one.

The caption here is, “Who was that man that cheered me up so much last winter?”

The ladies are in a bookstore, looking for relief.

The New Yorker is a magazine of humor.

But it was a time without joy.

Daily reminders that all was not right with the country and with the world at large.

Today, this past year, everyday it’s something new.

Something new and somehow, something worse than yesterday.

And daily, more and more predictions on how it is going to get worse.

Predictions just a year ago, would have been dismissed out of hand.

Not possible.

Not going to happen.

Not in America.

Which is why comparisons to Soviet-style state-controlled broadcasting models – once breathless rhetorical exaggerations – are starting to feel less hyperbolic.

Breathless rhetorical exaggerations – are starting to feel less hyperbolic.

Daily reminders that all was not right with the country and with the world at large.

I embrace weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning (Psalms 30:5) …

Trying to remain hopeful for that dawning.

Not feeling worn down.

Feeling ground down.

Ain’t America great again.