http://www.cocomment.com/comments/Rachel Copyright 2007 coComment.com 2009-11-23T05:22:08.274+01:00 http://www.cocomment.com/images/logo4rss.gif http://www.cocomment.com/sidebar?object=people&context=explore&mode=detail&id=Rachel&conv=508880&comment_id=9319957 Rachel If I may get back to the original question: Who's the adult? I find your comparison of the two first ladies interesting, but I'm not sure I agree. I'm willing to bet Hillary didn't go to Yale Law School to get what used to be called an MRS degree and she probably had then the same expectations of life as Laura Bush did--to support herself and go on doing it for the rest of her life. But Bill Clinton happened and Hillary absorbed his ambitions and agreed to go to Arkansas, etc. not because she thought she would be taken care of but because she felt the two of them could tag team their way to greatness. The stock scam didn't happen because she wanted a protective cocoon, but because of arrogance. She felt entitled to break the law because she saw herself as being above the law. I see this arrogance as being the chief difference between left and right. The left pushes for more government intervention, not because they themselves feel the need to be taken care of but because they feel they know better than the hoi polloi, who can't be trusted to take care of themselves. Instead they must be guided by Philosopher Kings like Hillary into doing the right thing. And if Hillary wants to feather her nest by taking advantage of a few loopholes, well, she damn well deserves it--because she's smarter than the rest of us. See all of Wes's comments for further validation of this thesis. 2007-02-27T01:27:33.785+01:00 2007-02-27T01:27:33.785+01:00 http://www.cocomment.com/sidebar?object=people&context=explore&mode=detail&id=Rachel&conv=496811&comment_id=9034792 Rachel On Baseball and Writing Marianne Moore Fanaticism? No.Writing is exciting and baseball is like writing. You can never tell with either how it will go or what you will do; generating excitement-- a fever in the victim-- pitcher, catcher, fielder, batter. Victim in what category? Owlman watching from the press box? To whom does it apply? Who is excited? Might it be I? It's a pitcher's battle all the way--a duel-- a catcher's, as, with cruel puma paw, Elston Howard lumbers lightly back to plate.(His spring de-winged a bat swing.) They have that killer instinct; yet Elston--whose catching arm has hurt them all with the bat-- when questioned, says, unenviously, "I'm very satisfied.We won." Shorn of the batting crown, says, "We"; robbed by a technicality. When three players on a side play three positions and modify conditions, the massive run need not be everything. "Going, going . . . "Is it?Roger Maris has it, running fast.You will never see a finer catch.Well . . . "Mickey, leaping like the devil"--why gild it, although deer sounds better-- snares what was speeding towards its treetop nest, one-handing the souvenir-to-be meant to be caught by you or me. Assign Yogi Berra to Cape Canaveral; he could handle any missile. He is no feather. "Strike! . . . Strike two!" Fouled back. A blur. It's gone.You would infer that the bat had eyes. He put the wood to that one. Praised, Skowron says, "Thanks, Mel. I think I helped a little bit." All business, each, and modesty. Blanchard, Richardson, Kubek, Boyer. In that galaxy of nine, say which won the pennant?Each.It was he. Those two magnificent saves from the knee-throws by Boyer, finesses in twos-- like Whitey's three kinds of pitch and pre- diagnosis with pick-off psychosis. Pitching is a large subject. Your arm, too true at first, can learn to catch your corners--even trouble Mickey Mantle.("Grazed a Yankee! My baby pitcher, Montejo!" With some pedagogy, you'll be tough, premature prodigy.) They crowd him and curve him and aim for the knees.Trying indeed!The secret implying: "I can stand here, bat held steady." One may suit him; none has hit him. Imponderables smite him. Muscle kinks, infections, spike wounds require food, rest, respite from ruffians.(Drat it! Celebrity costs privacy!) Cow's milk, "tiger's milk," soy milk, carrot juice, brewer's yeast (high-potency-- concentrates presage victory sped by Luis Arroyo, Hector Lopez-- deadly in a pinch.And "Yes, it's work; I want you to bear down, but enjoy it while you're doing it." Mr. Houk and Mr. Sain, if you have a rummage sale, don't sell Roland Sheldon or Tom Tresh. Studded with stars inbelt and crown, the Stadium is an adastrium. O flashing Orion, your stars are muscled like the lion. Pied Beauty Gerard Manley Hopkins Glory be to God for dappled things— For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow; For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim; Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings; Landscape plotted and pieced—fold, fallow, and plough; And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim. All things counter, original, spare, strange; Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?) With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim; He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change: Praise him. 2007-02-22T03:12:05.051+01:00 2007-02-22T03:12:05.051+01:00