What Difference?

What difference does it make to the dead, the orphans, and the homeless, whether the mad destruction is wrought under the name of totalitarianism or the holy name of liberty or democracy?

- Mohandas K. Gandhi

a christmas message

In the Spirit of the Season, Squelch offers a message inherited from an organization which has, if not my membership, at least my abiding respect.
___________________________________________________________
TO ALL MEMBERS
Greetings On Our 10th Christmas
1944
Yes, it’s in the air! The spirit of Christmas once more warms this poor distraught world. Over the whole globe millions are looking forward to that one day when strife can be forgotten, when it will be remembered that all human beings, even the least are loved by God, when men will hope for the coming of the Prince of Peace as they never hoped before.

But there is another world which is not poor. Neither is it distraught. It is the world of Alcoholics Anonymous, where thousands dwell happily and secure. Secure because each of us, in his own way, knows a greater power who is love, who is just, and who can be trusted. Nor can men and women of AA ever forget that only through suffering did they find enough humility to enter the portals of that New World.

How privileged we are to understand so well the divine paradox that strength rises from weakness, that humiliation goes before resurrection; that pain is not only the price but the very touchstone of spiritual rebirth. Knowing it’s full worth and purpose, we can no longer fear adversity, we have found prosperity where there was poverty, peace and joy have sprung out of the very midst of chaos.
Great indeed, our blessings!

And so,– Merry Christmas to you all– from the Trustees, from Bobbie and from Lois and me.
Bill Wilson

little shoes

I remember my mother used to sing this song when I was very small.

Mother dear come bathe my forehead
For I’m growing very weak
Mother let one drop of water
Fall upon my burning cheek
I’m going away to leave you, Mother darling
And remember what I say
Do this, won’t you please, dear Mother
Put my little shoes away

Santa Claus, he brought ‘em to me
With a lot of other things
I believe he brought an angel
With a pair of golden wings

Tell my lovin’ little playmates
That I nevermore will play
Give them all my toys, but Mother
Put my little shoes away
I’m going away to leave you, Mother darling
And remember what I say
Do this, won’t you please, dear Mother
Put my little shoes away.

That made me sad, you know? Well I’m not sad about shoes anymore, except that it has come to this: That a sitting — or rather, standing and ducking — American president has been so insulted, and that his amorality has made US all such a target for scorn and derision.

Beyond that, which hopefully the presidency of Barak Obama will help to ameliorate, I’ll admit I am amused. OK, it’s funnier than shit. Look at this photo.

What’s funny about it? Not the blurry shoe or the blurry lame duck ducking, but the look on Al-Maliki’s face. It’s hysterical. What can we imagine he’s thinking in that instant?

• Aw crap. … Ladies and gentlemen, it’s shoe time!
  
• [Sigh] The shoe must go on.
  
• Welcome to the Bungling Bros. Side Shoe, brought to you by Halliburton and Bush’s Old Fashioned Crude Snake Oil Tonic.

They couldn’t write material this good for Comedy Central or HBO. Or maybe Shoetime.

Two more things, before I get too carried away.

You can fling shoes at Bush yourself, if you want to.

And this passing thought about footwear:

Click image to enlarge.