Mike Trimble, Denton (Texas) Record-Chronicle
Posted 3/1/2006 12:00:00 AM
The Manchurian Televangelist
Ernest Wayne Dallas Jr.: Two pictures, one life
Bye Bye, American Pie; Hello Whipped Topping
The Governor Closes the Borders
Big Brother Moves in Just Down the Street
The Manchurian Televangelist
November 14, 2005
By Mike Trimble
Denton Record-Chronicle
The public pronouncements of the Rev. Pat Robertson have become so bizarrethat responsible conservatives don't even bother to defend them anymore. Instead,they chide the press for paying any attention whatsoever to anything Robertsonsays, and we are forced to concede they have just about convinced us.
The public pronouncements of the Rev. Pat Robertson have become so bizarrethat responsible conservatives don't even bother to defend them anymore. Instead,they chide the press for paying any attention whatsoever to anything Robertsonsays, and we are forced to concede they have just about convinced us.
Robertson 's latest outrage was to warn the people of Dover, Pa., that theyhad best not expect any help from the Almighty should they be beset in the futureby fires, floods, pestilences or any other disasters of an apocalyptic nature.Should they do so, Robertson predicted, God would simply tell them to go fish.
The sin of the Doverines, a sin that surely ranks up there with those of theSodomites and the Gomorons, was to vote from office a school board that hadapproved the inclusion of Intelligent Design in their schools' curricula.
Spake Robertson on his television show, The 700 Club: "I'd like to sayto the good citizens of Dover, if there is a disaster in your area, don't turnto God. You just rejected him in your city."
This, you will remember, is the man who twice claimed to have prayed hurricanesaway from the Virginia coastline and nodded like a bobblehead doll at fellowparson Jerry Falwell's assertion that Sept. 11 was God's retribution againstan apostate United States, a view that happened to coincide perfectly with thatof al-Qaida.
Robertson has also suggested in the past that an atomic bomb be dropped onthe American State Department, that the U.S. government assassinate a leftistSouth American dictator and that feminism urges women to "kill their children,practice witchcraft, destroy capitalism and become lesbians."
Let us leave aside the merits of the Intelligent Design theory, which, simplyput, argues that the universe is just too complicated a structure to have comeabout by chance. There are arguments to be made about it pro and con, but thatis not our purpose today.
Our purpose is to (1) ask who made Pat Robertson the arbiter of whom God willsave and whom he will condemn, and (2) point out that he shot the IntelligentDesign argument square in the knee with his pronouncement.
Second point first: The proponents of Intelligent Design know that they mustpresent their theory on a purely secular basis. Intelligent Design, they argueover and over, is not about God. It is about science! Now comes the Rev. Robertsonto proclaim that God Himself is supremely cheesed off at the people of Dover,Pa., for rejecting this allegedly secular educational approach.
Does God take sides in these secular matters? What ever happened to renderingunto Caesar? How does God feel about cold fusion? How about the Designated HitterRule? Surely there should be some divine retribution for that.
First point: Pat Robertson's insistence that he speaks for God has at longlast ceased to enrage us and has put him firmly in the tinfoil-hat section ofthe Peanut Gallery.
We knew it as soon as we heard clear-headed conservative commentators horse-laughinghis Intelligent Design dithyramb along with everyone else. Some conservativeseven speculated facetiously that he might be under the diabolical control ofthe lefties, a Manchurian preacher programmed to spout crazy stuff that makesthe right look bad.
When your own side brands you a crackpot, you have pretty well slipped intothe slough of irrelevance for good and all, and we don't envision commentingmuch about Pat Robertson in the future. He has passed into the realm of thetruly whacked-out, where space flight is faked and pro wrestling is real.
Out there be dragons.
Ernest Wayne Dallas Jr.: Two pictures, one life
July 29, 2005
By Mike Trimble
Denton Record-Chronicle
That picture of Ernie Dallas Jr. in Thursday's paper, the one that shows himas a child in his baseball uniform, is what being an American boy is all about.
In that picture, replicated a million times each summer across this land, youcan tell the young Ernie Dallas is already rehearsing how he'll pose for hisrookie baseball card. He's got the stance down pat, and his uniform is perfect,from the gentle major-league roll on the bill of his cap to the batting gloveon his left hand.
One senses that he is doing his best to affect a menacing batsman's stare forthe camera, but he can't quite pull it off. The moment is just too perfect:The sun is shining, school is out and Ernie Dallas is playing baseball. A smilethreatens to break out at any moment.
You can see that threat of a smile in the other picture of Ernie Dallas thatappeared in Thursday's paper. In that one, he is in desert camo and the blackberet of a United States Infantryman. He is a man now, there is no doubt ofthat, but the young baseball player is in that picture, too — in the cleareyes and the determined set of the jaw. Just as he had been in that earlierphoto, Ernie Dallas was at home in the uniform. We know that about him if weknow nothing else.
It is a source of both pride and sadness in this country that children in baseballuniforms grow up to be young men and women in military uniforms, and the physicalstamina, enthusiasm and team spirit they learned on the playing field is spenton battlefields and carrier decks, and cockpits and control rooms in lonelyoutposts the rest of us cannot pronounce.
When any of these young men and women falls in battle, we are overcome by boththe sadness and the pride. When it is one of our own, the loss and the prideare doubly strong.
The fog of war still surrounds his death, but we do know that Ernie Dallasdied Sunday in Baghdad when the Bradley fighting vehicle he was riding in struckan explosive device. He was one of ours, the first of Denton's sons and daughtersto die in that far place, and suddenly this war is brought home to us as ithas not been before.
We have all formed our opinions about this war — the politics of it,or the economics — but this is not about politics or economics today;this is about one of our sons.
When members of his family spoke of him in Thursday's paper, we all becamea part of that family. We went with them to baseball games, and to activitiesat Fred Moore High School.
We shared his parents' pride, and, we would guess, their quiet, unspoken fears,when he announced in high school that he wanted to be a police officer, andenrolled in the Denton Police Department's Citizen Youth Academy.
We shared both emotions again upon reading of how he joined the Army in 2003,itching to help avenge the terrorist attacks on the United States in Septemberof 2001. His anger made us proud again, and afraid again, afraid for him andall the young men and women whose anger, skill, strength and confidence arenecessary to survive the deadly business of war.
And on Thursday, when we read that he had died, our fear became ineffable sadness,though our pride was undiminished.
Ernie Dallas Jr. had dreamed of a life in uniform, his family said, a lifeof service. He fulfilled that dream, and it is our prayer that knowing thisbrings a measure of peace to those who loved him, and who miss him so today.
Bye Bye, American Pie; Hello Whipped Topping
July 6, 2005
By Mike Trimble
Denton Record-Chronicle
"These are the times that try men's souls. The summer soldier and the sunshinepatriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of their country; buthe that stands by it now, deserves the thanks of man and woman."
— Thomas Paine, "The Crisis," 1776
"Here I stand; I can do no other. God help me. Amen."
— Martin Luther, 95 Theses of Contention, 1517
"The pie-eating contest, really a whipped topping-eating contest, wasthe biggest dish served up in the city's rain-soaked Fourth of July Jubilee."
— Cliff Despres, Denton Record-Chronicle, 2005
These are indeed trying times. When a city government can plop a dollop ofwhipped "topping" on a paper plate and call it a "pie;"when these "pies" are then used in a "pie"-eating "contest"in which no one eats more than one "pie;" and when this "contest"is held on the Fourth of July, a day revered by all as being as American as"apple pie," well, our endurance is exhausted, as are our typing fingersand our supply of quotation marks.
For those who missed the account in Tuesday's newspaper, here is the gravesituation:
As is the custom in this good town, the city government scheduled a wingdingon Monday to celebrate Independence Day. It rained, forcing cancellation ofthe big parade and the horseshoe-pitching tournament, but spirits were stillhigh for the pie-eating contest.
Imagine our shock upon reading our correspondent's account of the contest inTuesday's paper and learning that contestants were asked to eat only one pie,and that the winners were determined by timing the contestants, shortest timewinning.
Worst of all was what passed for pie.
Let us ponder for a moment the entire concept of a pie-eating contest: It mustinvolve pie. A fruit pie is best, and cherry is the best of all, given its arresting,attractive color. Banana cream is OK, too, but meringue pies should be avoided,as they contain too much air, and lead to falsely impressive eating totals.
At its very least, a competition-worthy pie includes a metal pie tin, crustand a substantial filling that requires some chewing. That is to say, the piesin a pie-eating contest must be pies, not "pies."
The "pies" used Monday in the city of Denton's Fourth of July pie-eatingcontest were not pies at all; they were plain old plates onto which were splashedsome kind of whipped "topping" that we can only assume was suitablefor human consumption.
And what, may we ask, is the idea behind timing the eating of just one pie?For children, maybe this is the way to go, but a Fourth of July pie-eating contestfor grownups should be an exercise in good old American gluttony, with moaningand eye-rolling and the threat of projectile vomiting. It is the American way!
This newspaper has never avoided controversial editorial positions before,and it doesn't intend to begin now. It is with faith in the right, as we seethe right, that we hereby declare that if the city of Denton is going to throwa pie-eating contest, it should supply the contestants with real, honest-to-Godpies. Moreover, the winners should be determined by the amount of pie they eat,not the time in which they eat it.
If the city cannot afford to buy pies, it should encourage someone to donatethem. We nominate Ken Willis, the proprietor of Ruby's Diner on the Square.Willis would no doubt be more than happy to donate a couple of hundred piesto avoid being branded a cheapskate.
That is our position. Here we stand; we can do no other. God help us. Amen.
We modestly await the thanks of man and woman.
The Governor Closes the Borders
June 10, 2005
By Mike Trimble
Denton Record-Chronicle
Gov. Rick Perry has invited homosexual war veterans from Texas to move elsewhere,a statement so breathtaking in its bigotry that we thought at first that reportsof it had to be incorrect.
Sadly, they were not. A quick check in newspapers and wire service Web sitesconfirmed that the governor had uttered the 21st-century equivalent of "Send'em all back to Africa," and, even sadder, that he did it before an approvingaudience at a private Christian academy in Forth Worth.
There are a couple of circumstances that might tend to mitigate the governor'svile pronouncement:
1. It was in response to an obviously hostile question, and,
2. Perry may simply be too dumb to realize just how vile his answer sounded.
Perry had orchestrated a big campaign photo op at the Calvary Christian Academyin Fort Worth over the weekend to watch him sign legislation requiring minorsto get parental permission for abortions and a proclamation putting a constitutionalamendment banning gay marriage on the Texas ballot. There were several protesterson hand who objected to one or both of the measures Perry was signing, and towhat they perceived as an unhealthy melding of church and state. At some pointin the proceedings, someone asked Perry what he would say to a returning veteranof the Iraq war who wished to marry someone of the same sex, the unfriendlybut not unreasonable implication being that a Texan who has fought for his orher country has pretty much earned the right to marry whomever he or she damnwell pleases.
Perry answered thus:
"Texans have made a decision about marriage, and if there is some otherstate that has a more lenient view than Texas, then maybe that's a better placefor them to live."
Setting aside for a moment the technicality that the people of Texas have notyet voted on this proposed amendment, let us examine the malign prejudice thatis implicit in Perry's words.
There are plenty of intellectual arguments to be made for and against constitutionallydefining marriage as a union between one man and one woman. They involve custom,sociology, child welfare, economics, individual liberty and a raft of otherissues. Perry addressed none of them; he simply implied - strongly, in our opinion- that gay and lesbian people are not welcome in "his" Texas. Becausethe question was couched in terms of returning war veterans, that's the wayhe answered it, but his "invitation" seemed pretty general in nature:If you're gay or lesbian, don't let the door hit you on the way out.
There are some people in Texas, and everywhere else, who believe that way,and Perry seemed to be pandering to that constituency. He may well win theirvotes with such statements, but they do him no credit among people of good will,no matter how they feel about same-sex marriage.
We do not want our governor to be a bigot. We fervently hope he just said somethingstupid again. We can live with stupid.
Big Brother Moves in Just Down the Street
May 8, 2005
By Mike Trimble
Denton Record-Chronicle
We probably shouldn't worry about the Code Rangers, but we do, a little bit.The Code Rangers, if you didn't see the paper the other day, are a corps ofvolunteers who are going to keep their eyes on how often we cut our grass andhow high we stack our garbage.
When we don't measure up, the Code Rangers will send us a little reminder inthe mail. If we don't straighten up and fly right after that warning, our friendlyneighborhood Code Ranger calls in the heavy artillery, the "city code officers."
We shudder to think what that might mean: the knock on the door in the deadof night; the endless interrogations ("Are you saying this isn't your rottentwo-by-four, MIS-ter Anderson?"), landscaping miscreants being herded intothe backs of city trucks, which will take them for "re-education"at Frenchy's Lawn Care and Gulag, or, if the offense is particularly heinous,to a device hidden in the city Service Center on Texas Street, a device knownonly as "The Big Chipper."
You see? We're working ourselves into a lather over this for no reason at all.All the City Council has asked residents to do is what good citizens do anyway:Keep an eye on things and drop a dime - er, a reminder - on a neighbor if somethingisn't quite up to snuff. The council came up with the idea last year when itapproved some stricter requirements concerning grass cutting, tree trimming,junk-car displaying and the like. Because we assume the council acts only withthe best of motives, we assume it believed it was simply tapping Denton's renownedwell of volunteer spirit in recruiting residents to keep an eye out in theirneighbors' Johnson grass and garbage piles.
We wish we could think of it in the same way, but we can't.
At best, we think of it as an amusing annoyance, in which the neighborhoodBarney Fifes patrol the streets, secretly yearning for a uniform and a whistle,on the lookout for high grass and old washing-machine parts. Gotta nip it, nipit, nip it in the bud, Andy.
At worst, we can see neighborhood grudges escalating into blizzards of warningletters and the use of official power to settle personal business. We can seesuspicion blooming with the azaleas, ill feeling piling up along with the oldnewspapers.
We think it is revealing that the city's two existing Code Rangers declinedto comment on their activities for the story in the paper the other day. Whatwould they say? What could they say? Would they have to appear wearing a skimask?
Yes, we all have a stake in clean, healthy neighborhoods, and there needs tobe a way to help an overtaxed code enforcement staff find out about the mostegregious violations.
But it seems to us there already is a way. Anyone who sees an overgrown lawnor a clapped-out Henry J in somebody's front yard already has the power - and,we believe, the obligation - to report them to the proper city officials.
Of course, the possibility of abuse exists with individuals just as it doeswith the Code Rangers, but a complaint that comes from a private resident isjust that - a complaint to be looked with no prejudgment of guilt or innocence.A complaint from a Code Ranger has the imprimatur of the city government rightfrom the get-go. If the Code Ranger says your back yard's a mess, it's up toyou to prove that it isn't.
If it's all the same to the City Council, we like our neighbors just fine likethey are, and would rather not see any of them turned into the lawn Gestapo.We had just as soon skip this side trip to the brave new world.