David Brooks wrote 800 words today praising the apparently inexhaustible virtues of his kid's boss ("The Age of Bibi".)
If you distill the whole of it into a shot glass, it sounds remarkably like this:
Hey, man, you don't talk Bibi. You listen to him. The man's enlarged my mind. He's a poet warrior in the classic sense. I mean sometimes he'll... uh... well, you'll say "hello" to him, right? And he'll just walk right by you. He won't even notice you. And suddenly he'll grab you, and he'll throw you in a corner, and he'll say, "Do you know that 'IDF' is sorta the middle word in life? If you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs and blaming it on you, if you can trust yourself when all men doubt you"... I mean I'm... no, I can't... I'm a little man, I'm a little man, he's... he's a great man! I should have been a pair of ragged claws scuttling across floors of silent seas...
6 comments:
J. Alfred Prubrooks?
You probably already saw it, but in case you didn't, there's a haiku up at the Rude Pundit's place that reads as follows:
From Mike in California:
David Fucking Brooks
Can shove his Centrist twaddle
Both Sides Don't Do It
-Doug in Oakland
http://rudepundit.blogspot.com/2015/01/six-haiku-about-2014-that-you-have-to.html
SFX: Huey 'THWOCK THWOCK THWOCK' ing across the sky...
"Haifa. Shit, I'm still only in Haifa...."
This is from the Harvey Keitel version, right?
.
You can't land on a fraction I outer space man
And then I realized... like I was shot with a diamond... a diamond bullet right through my forehead. And I thought, my God... the genius of that! Both sides, equally! Perfect, genuine, complete, crystalline, pure... without judgment! Because it's judgment that defeats us.
Regards, Horace
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