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Studs Terkel, 1912-2008
New York, 12:33 PM
Sun Nov 29
12 posts in the last 24 hours
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Studs Terkel, 1912-2008 |
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11/01/08
10/31/08
this is sad... what a loss.
10/31/08
[www.nytimes.com]
And if I may take a moment to be selfish, I was thrilled to see that he and I share a birthday. Thanks for the gift, Mr. Studs Terkel.
10/31/08
And now that you're in Heaven, please help us with this election.
10/31/08
Edward Lifson talked to Studs about a week ago, about Obama's grandmother. Here's what Terkel had to say before hanging up:
"I'm very excited by the idea of a black guy in the White House, that's very exciting," Studs said as we said goodbye. "I just wish he was more progressive!"
10/31/08
10/31/08
PS: Chris, I miss your stuff in The Nation very much. It discombobulates me that your stalwart Orwellian self has become aligned with the wanton boy swatting flies. Remember the line from King Lear: "As flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods;/ They kill us for their sport." That a wanton boy, at this moment in history, is the most powerful man in the world is an absurd fact. It's a scenario that can have been written only by that master of outrageous humor W.C. Fields. It grieves me that one as gifted as you has chosen to play second banana to the wanton boy in a burlesque skit that's not very funny. Come back, Chris; the martini is waiting. On second thought, I withdraw the invitation. Difficulties might ensue. We'd reflect, of course, on the wanton boy's appointment of Kissinger as truth-seeker. But as we mellowed with a drink or two, we'd probably reminisce about our dear old friend Jessica Mitford and what she'd make of things today; and of you. Five gets you ten she'd have said, "Christopher Hitchens, poor boy, since his conversion, has been transmorgrified from a witty observer of the human comedy to a bloody bore, seated at the far-right end of the bar." As you may surmise, Kiddo, it would wind up as a somewhat less than pleasant visit. I'd find the memory of Mitford much better company than the presence of Hitchens. Thus, at this moment, I'm drinking alone, hoisting one to Jessica (Decca, as we called her) and her dreams; and mine; and young Christopher's.
S.T.
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RIP
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10/31/08
_Working_ was the bomb.
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