LETTERS (Continued from page 14)
as she attached herself to one of the most successful politicians of all time (her husband). Whatever other experience she gained on her own and on government-sponsored tethers was just basic institutional crap. “As a secretary of state,” Mr. Handy marvels, “[Ms Clinton] was effective and approachable by employees and foreign governments.” Wo w : “Effective,” “Approachable.” What a woman! Her governmental effectiveness as U.S. Secretary of State led her to promote and approve the murder of Libyan strongman Muammar Kaddafi, the man who abandoned his nuclear ambitions at the behest of the U.S. Fortunately, Libya then became a free and democratic nation upon Mr. Kaddafi’s ouster, right? Oh, wait, that besotted country is now ruled by various warlords and gangs. Never mind. No reason to bring up Ms Clinton’s pathetic non-response when it came time to defend U.S. Ambassador Christopher Stevens, who, along with members of his staff died in an attack on the grounds of the U.S. Mission in Benghazi. Back to Mr. Trump’s presidential announcement speech, his closing words were: “Sadly, the American dream is dead. But if I get elected president, I will bring it back bigger and better and stronger than ever before, and we will make America great again.” Many of the promises and hopes President Trump laid out in that initial speech have come to fruition, despite the enormous government-wide attempts to stymie his efforts. Which is why I’ll be voting for his re-election come this November. As a footnote: at the end of Mr. Handy’s Pro-Hillary, anti-Trump (and anti-Buckley?) screed, he calls me out as “sexist” and a “dinosaur!” Every man probably has a little “sexism” under his nails; so, admit-
tedly, we have work to do, but a “dinosaur?” The only thing I can say about that is that the Age of the Giant Reptiles lasted 200 million years, give or take. Not a bad run. James Buckley
Keep it Coming
As a member of Concerned Carpinterians, it was a great pleasure to read the well written article by Nicholas Schou in his “On the Record” column in your newspaper regarding the cannabis mess created by Das Williams, Steve Lavagnino and the rest of the Santa Barbara County Board of Supervisors. It is so refreshing to finally see the truth coming out. We are grateful to the Grand Jury for their report and their findings, and we are grateful for the excellent reporting from your newspaper. Thank you Montecito Journal. Sandy Nargi
Mask Mayhem
It is evident that the coming November election will be contested not as Trump v. Biden, Conservatives v. Liberals, Republicans v. Democrats, but simply on the one issue of No Masks v. Wear Masks. Des O’Neill
Corrections, Omissions and Apologies In MJ’s July 2nd edition’s Fitness Front article on acupuncture, “Needles Stress Away,” incorrectly listed one person, Laura Schlieske, as the founder of Downtown Community Acupuncture. It was actually founded by Laura and co-founder, Jennifer Potthast, also a licensed acupuncturist and herbalist. The two have been co-owners and practitioners since the beginning of the clinic, over 10 years ago. •MJ
Laughing Matters A
guy in the Soviet Union calls up the electric company and says he’s got a problem with his power and the power in his apartment. After days he finally gets through to someone. And the guy says, “I’ve set up an appointment for you. It’s two and a half years from now on February 3.” “Morning or afternoon?”, the guy says. And the guy at the power company says, “What difference does it make?” “Well, because the plumber is coming in the morning.” Send us your best joke, we’ll decide if it’s funny. We can only print what we can print, so don’t blame us. Please send “jokes” to letters@ montecitojournal.net
23 – 30 July 2020
Brilliant Thoughts by Ashleigh Brilliant Born London, 1933. Mother Canadian. Father a British civil servant. World War II childhood spent mostly in Toronto and Washington, D.C. Berkeley PhD. in American History, 1964. Living in Santa Barbara since 1973. No children. Best-known for his illustrated epigrams, called “Pot-Shots”, now a series of 10,000. Email ashleigh@west.net or visit www.ashleighbrilliant.com
How to be a Villain
T
his story begins with a confession: I didn’t know how to be a villain – and never got over it. When I was eleven years old, my Hebrew school was bringing out a magazine, and needed contributions. I somehow volunteered to write on a topic someone had suggested – “How to Be a Villain.” No doubt, it was supposed to be a humorous piece. But the ghastly fact is that I didn’t even know what a villain was. I couldn’t think of anything to say, and was deeply troubled. I actually lost sleep over it. My mother could see how unhappy I was, and she tried to help me, making light of my predicament. She suggested that I could start with something about taking candy from a baby – but I was too young to savor such villainy. Ironically, the media to which I was then mostly exposed – the movies, radio, and especially comic books – were full of villains. One, who was featured battling my favorite hero, “Captain Marvel,” was called “Mr. Mind.” He was an evil genius, threatening to control the entire world. But readers never actually saw him – only “heard” his malignant voice – until the final episode, in which he turned out to be an intelligent worm, with a little microphone hanging around his neck! Incidentally, Captain Marvel soon disappeared. He was almost literally killed by Superman, whose publishers successfully sued, claiming the characters were too much alike. This made Superman a villain in my eyes. But I must sadly reveal that the writing assignment I’d been given was never fulfilled. I don’t know what excuse I used, but somehow, I backed out of the commitment. In my memory, that entire incident is tinged with shame. Of course, I eventually learned the meaning of villainy – though I’m glad to say that in my personal life, I’ve never known anyone I’d call villainous. But I’m naturally familiar with the classic villains of our culture, from Nero and Lady Macbeth to Iago and Guy Fawkes. The failure of the latter to blow up Parliament, in 1605, is still celebrated annually in Britain with fireworks and garish rituals involving the burning of stuffed dummies known as “Guys.”
• The Voice of the Village •
Being (by origin) both British and Jewish, I feel qualified to tell you not only about Guy Fawkes, but also about a villain commemorated in Judaic culture on the annual feast of Purim, which derives from the Biblical story of Esther. In this case, the setting is ancient Persia, and the villain – a high official named Haman – has a plot to destroy all the Jews in the Empire. He’s defeated by one of those very Jews, a young woman named Esther, who happens to have become Queen. And Haman is hanged on the very gallows he had prepared for Esther ’s foster-father Mordecai. Jews celebrate Purim by recounting this story in synagogues all over the world, in a narrative called the “Megillah” (which has given us a word for any lengthy screed). And whenever the name of Haman occurs, loud noises are made, especially by the children, who’ve been waiting impatiently, with special rattles, for that name to come up. And you can eat Haman, in the form of a pastry, called Haman’s Hat. But our culture also has Jewish villains, of whom perhaps the most notorious is Shakespeare’s Shylock, forever abhorred for his insistence on receiving his “pound of flesh” – since then, an enduring metaphor for something one may be legally entitled to, but which it would be cruel to exact. Then, later, came Dickens’ nasty Fagin, who in Oliver Twist runs a school for young thieves. But conscience obliges me to conclude this piece with an even more painful admission than began it. I professed then to have little knowledge of villainy. But the sad truth is that there has been one person in whose life I myself often played the role of a villain. That person was my wife Dorothy. Although we were together for 51 years, our values were in many ways so different that, in her eyes, my behavior was sometimes unforgiveable. In particular, she disliked controversy – and my very public campaigns, as against smoking and leaf-blowers, could, to her, be acutely embarrassing. But also, she was a hoarder, and, more than once, our conflicting ideas about order at home brought us to the brink of separation. Happily, in her later years, as she became more dependent on me, I became less evil. •MJ MONTECITO JOURNAL
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