I was looking for an appropriate “Night Before Christmas” post and found this instead, a parody I wrote on Christmas Eve in 2009, the very first year of Ethics Alarms, in reaction to the ethically-tainted passage of the “Affordable Care Act,” which didn’t make health care affordable. I knew the bill was smoke and mirrors and that it would not accomplish what it was supposed to do. I knew that we would be in one mess or another as a result of the ugly thing, supposedly the signature legislation of the Obama Administration…and sad thing is that it probably was. What does that tell you?
I was struck, as you will be, how much of my mordant satire seems relevant today, and how little has changed.
So let’s travel back to that halcyon year, and the day before Christmas…
Because he is angry at President Trump and the Kennedy Center board for adding the President’s name to the cultural center, musician Chuck Redd cancelled the Christmas Eve jazz concert at the Kennedy Center that has been a tradition for more than 20 years. “When I saw the name change on the Kennedy Center website and then hours later on the building, I chose to cancel our concert,” Redd told The Associated Press . Redd is a drummer and vibraphone player who has presided over holiday “Jazz Jams” at the Kennedy Center since 2006.
Well, jazz musicians aren’t known for their critical thinking skills or ethics acumen. Let me get this straight, Chuck: you think a fair way to punish Trump and the board for the name change is to disappoint jazz fans in the Washington area who had nothing to do with the decision. Nice.
In the post earlier this week, “Donald and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week, Part II: The Important Stuff,” one of the items I included as important was Jacob Savage’s disturbing essay on how white males of the Millennial generation were crushed by the DEI policies that even predated the term. He wrote in part,
“As the Trump Administration takes a chainsaw to the diversity, equity, and inclusion apparatus, there’s a tendency to portray DEI as a series of well-meaning but ineffectual HR modules…This may be how Boomer and Gen-X white men experienced DEI. But for white male millennials, DEI wasn’t a gentle rebalancing—it was a profound shift in how power and prestige were distributed.”
The rest of the article was so powerful regarding how white males saw their ambitions and futures hamstrung purely because of their race and gender, with striking statistics to back up his narrative, that it landed like a splash of ice water on the still-raging policy debate. DEI was, and is, simply wrong, unethical, as well as being unconstitutional and illegal. My Trump Deranged Facebook friends keep calling the President “inhuman,” but, strangely, he was the only one with both the power, the guts and the perception to set out to end what has been a cruel form of societally- approved prejudice and discrimination.
I should have devoted a whole post to Savage’s article, but a substack called eugyppius: a plague chronicle did, and expands on what Savage began, well, savagely. He writes,
This is one of those Christmas songs with multiple verses, like “Away in a Manger.” The first time I heard it was on one of the Christmas somg slection albums my father used to get free when he worked for Sears Roebuck in the Sixties. There were all sorts of strange selections on those records, like Mike Douglas singing “O Holy Night.” (He wasn’t bad, either.) Johnny Cash’s version of “I Heard the Bells” was on the same album as Mike, I think.
The song began as a poem by the great American poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Do they still teach Henry’s poems in the schools? I bet not; I bet he’s a cancelled Great White Man now, and they teach Maya Angelou. Henry wrote a lot more memorable poems than Maya: “Paul Revere’s Ride,” “Excelsior,” “The Song of Hiawatha,” “A Psalm of Life,” “The Village Blacksmith” “The Children’s Hour,” “The Wreck of the Hesperus,” and “The Arrow and the Song.” among others. Like other great American artists, it is Christmas that keeps his memory flickering, at least for those who know he wrote the words to “I Heard the Bells.”
The poet’s oldest son Charles, a lieutenant in the Union Army, he was seriously wounded in November of 1863 during the Battle of New Hope Church. Longfellow had begged his only son not to enlist to fight the Rebels. When the terrible news arrived, the poet was still mourning the death of his second wife in a fire two years earlier.
I didn’t know until this morning that Chevy Chase was left out of Saturday Night Live’s anniversary reunion show this year, SNL50: The Anniversary Special, Chevy Chase. I don’t know because I stopped watching the show many years ago when it stopped being a cultural satire program without a political agenda and converted to an all-woke, all-progressive, anti-Republican Axis member like all the other late Night Shows. In SNL’s prime, however, when Don Pardo was still the announcer, I never missed an episode.
In CNN Films’ upcoming documentary, “I’m Chevy Chase and You’re Not,”the original “Saturday Night Live” “Weekend Update” host reveals how hurt he was that he was left out of the program. “Well, it was kind of upsetting actually,” Chase says. “This is probably the first time I’m saying it. But I expected that I would’ve been on the stage too with all the other actors. When Garrett [Morris] and Laraine [Newman] went on the stage there, I was curious as to why I didn’t. No one asked me to. Why was I left aside?” “Why was Bill Murray [hosting “Weekend Update” on the show] and why was I not? I don’t have an answer for that.”
Oh, I bet Chevy does. He was disliked by much of the cast and regarded as a toxic asshole. But that shouldn’t have mattered, and it was petty and wrong for the producers to snub him.
By purest coincidence, I wrote and co-directed my own 50th anniversary reunion show this year. We invited everyone who had ever been involved in the organization’s productions, and if they were willing, I worked them into the performances, no mean feat if I do say so myself. Did I personally like everyone we invited? No, of course not, nor did several prominent performers care much for me. That didn’t matter, and shouldn’t have mattered. The production was a salute to the group itself and its continued success and longevity. Every single key figure in its history available should have been on that stage or participating in the project.
It’s the day before Christmas, and all though my house, there’s no sign of Christmas, but I’ve no right to grouse…
…because it’s my choice to be solitary and miserable this season. Two days ago my adult heir gratuitously sent me a hate bomb that was the most hurtful communication I have ever received from anyone. Given that this individual lives rent free in an apartment in my house and is over 30, I expected just a teeny-weeny bit of, if not gratitude, respect. Uh, no. This was only the latest joy-extracting event this holiday season: I also just wounded my leg (the same one that put me in the hospital in July and hasn’t healed completely yet), I was fired from my oldest ethics gig (as with the unexpected attack from downstairs, the reason is obscure) and the number of administrative Swords of Damocles hanging over my head since Grace died last year have increased rather than diminished, as was my grand plan for 2025. So I’m taking pleasure in other people’s Christmas, including yours. So you better have a great one. Tonight I expect to be playing bridge with three ghosts.
Or heading to the bridge, like George Bailey.
Below is an updated and rewritten version of my earlier post about my favorite modern Christmas song, “Do You Hear What I Hear?” When I still had a professional theater company to oversee, I wrote and directed a musical revue called “An American Century Christmas.” It was staged like one of those old-fashioned TV Christmas specials, with the set decorated like a Christmas living room, and celebrity guests arriving with gifts.
I stuffed everything I loved about the seasonal entertainment into the thing: the scene in “The Homecoming” when John-Boy gets his tablets from his father; the scene in “It’s a Wonderful Life” when George gets emotional realizing that he’s in love with Mary while talking to Sam (Hee-haw!) Wainwright on the telephone; Danny and Bing standing in for the Haines Sisters and singing “Sisters:” a reading of “The Littlest Angel;” the Peanuts kids and Snoopy decorating Charlie Brown’s sickly tree. I don’t think anyone liked that show as much as I did, but so what. It made me happy. Even remembering it now makes me happy.
The first act finale was a rousing rendition of “Do You Hear What I Hear?” The song means a lot to me, and I’ll be blasting the original version tonight.
Before you make a public statement that will guarantee that you will become a poster-mayor for the usual “War on Christmas” battles, it might be wise to check legal history regardless of which position you take.
Mayor Miko Pickett, the “historic” first black mayor of Mullins, South Carolina, ordered this season’s Nativity scene removed from a public parking lot due to “separation of church and state.” The town happily ignored her. Not surprisingly, she had based her decision on “diversity” and “inclusion” principles and the “separation of Church and State.”
Naturally, she opted for the politically correct “Happy Holidays.” But the mayor may have had a point.
Such worthies as “The View’s” fake republican Ana Navarro spread a story about how Trump paid liar Karoline Leavitt referred to ancient ex-pop star, ex-actress Cher as “irrelevant” only to be slapped down by Sonny Bono’s muse thusly:
Well, snap! Take that, fascist bitch!
The story went viral on social media, with other celebrities celebrating Cher’s comeback, at least of a verbal nature. But it didn’t happen. Snopes—not that the site is trustworthy either—determined the fake quotes from both Leavitt and Cher originated in an AI-authored article appearing on a website indicating that its owners resided in Vietnam.
So desperate are the Trump Deranged for moral victories that they must stoop to cheering on fake triumphs by antediluvian woke warriors nobody under the age of 45 is likely to remember. For Cher is irrelevant, and has been for more than two decadee. Leavitt wouldn’t bother to call her irrelevant because she is irrelevant, just as the fake exchange would be irrelevant even if it occurred. This means that Snopes declaring the tale false is also irrelevant.
As is this post, come to think of it…
Apparently a washed-up star can be considered relevant if she is believed to be sufficiently opposed to the President and his supporters. Once again, as with Nicki Minaj, I must ask, “Who cares what Cher thinks about Karoline Leavitt?”
I view this episode worthy of an Ethics Alarms Kaufmann. “A Kaufman” is applied to matters of controversy so inconsequential as to be unworthy of attention or indignation. George S. Kaufman, celebrated wit and playwright, was on a TV panel show when singer Eddie Fisher ( father of Carrie) asked advice from the panel because desirable women were refusing to date him because of his youth. Kaufman replied,
“Mr. Fisher, on Mount Wilson there is a telescope that can magnify the most distant stars to twenty-four times the magnification of any previous telescope. This remarkable instrument was unsurpassed in the world of astronomy until the development and construction of the Mount Palomar telescope. The Mount Palomar telescope is an even more remarkable instrument of magnification. Owing to advances and improvements in optical technology, it is capable of magnifying the stars to four times the magnification and resolution of the Mount Wilson telescope. Mr. Fisher, if you could somehow put the Mount Wilson telescope inside the Mount Palomar telescope, you still wouldn’t be able to see my interest in your problem.”
For Eddie Fishers problem, substitute what Cher might say after Karoline Leavitt called her irrelevant. Even in her prime, Cher’s political views should have carried no more weight than the average Starbuck’s barista. Now, they are not even worthy of a Snopes factcheck.
I must confess, if you had told me even ten years ago that this was possible in the U.S., I would have laughed heartily. I certainly underestimated the damage to American culture about to be wreaked by the Democratic Party’s open borders lunacy.
A New York Times article (Gift Link!) informs us that an Austrian man is being prosecuted for failure to prevent his girlfriend from freezing to death on an Alpine mountain. They were near the summit, she couldn’t continue, he left to get help, and she died. He is said to have incurred the Germanic legal doctrine known as Garantenstellung that establishes a responsibility to take effective action for people who have a “duty of care” in a certain situations. If effective action isn’t taken, criminal liability may be found.
The Times says that Garantenstellung sometimes finds hired mountain guides liable for the deaths of their customers, but the principle being invoked when someone dies in an amateur excursion is unusual. Prosecutors argue that the un-named man was liable for his girlfriend’s death because he planned the trip and was much more experienced than she was.
The scenario immediately reminded me of the film “Backcountry.” A man who is supposedly an experienced hiker takes his novice hiker girlfriend to find a “special place” he knows in the wilderness where he intends to propose. He gets lost, however, the trip goes horribly wrong, and he ends up being attacked and eaten by a bear. If she had been the one eaten, I’d call the movie a close approximation of the Alpine tragedy.
Ethics Alarms 