On Political Aphorisms
Posted on October 9, 2008
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I ruined at least one person’s breakfast yesterday when, during an appearance on The Takeaway to discuss aphorisms (or the lack thereof) in the second presidential debate, I illustrated my point that political slogans are, by design, almost content-less by citing the Obama campaign slogan “Change you can believe in.” At least one listener found this slanted, further noting that most of the successful political aphorisms I cited during the program were from Republicans. I realize now that, during this time of crisis when what America needs is true bi-partisanship, I should have reached across the aisle and stated explicitly that the McCain campaign slogan, “Country first,” is more or less meaningless, too. My point is, ALL political slogans, from any political party, are deliberately designed to be empty vessels that voters can fill with whatever they please. Political slogans are meant to cast a wide net and sweep up as many people as possible in the context of an uplifting, engaging yet completely vague sentiment. Aphorisms, on the other hand, are unsettling, provocative and intended to make you question assumptions; hence, they are not very popular with politicians.
Neither McCain nor Obama seem, to me at least, to be natural aphorists. Some great politicians of the past have been, though. Lincoln was a brilliant aphorist:
Give me six hours to chop down a tree, and I will spend the first four sharpening the axe.
And so was Truman:
It’s a recession when your neighbor loses his job; it’s a depression when you lose yours.
The aphoristic phrases that candidates use say a lot about them, I think. In both debates so far, Obama has said, in reference to proposed budget cuts, a variation on the theme that McCain wants to
take a hatchet to the budget when what you need is a scalpel.
That’s a very professorial, parsing approach, in keeping with Obama’s cool and cerebral take on issues. McCain, in contrast, takes a much more tough-talking, straight-shooting, rough-riding approach. In the first debate, he cited former Secretary of State George Schultz:
If you point a gun at somebody, you better be prepared to pull the trigger.
That’s an aphorism worthy of a true “maverick,” in keeping with the McCain’s invocation of the spirit of Teddy Roosevelt, a hero of McCain’s and another great presidential aphorist. (In the interests of bi-partisanship and familial comity, may I also add here that the Roosevelts, Franklin and Eleanor both, were also great aphorists.)
The best aphorism of the campaign so far, though, comes not from a politician but from Peggy, the woman in New Hampshire who came up with the last question of the second debate:
What don’t you know and how will you learn it?
This is exactly the question aphorisms ask of us! Aphorisms inspire as they challenge, and it is the ‘challenging’ part that politicians find so, well, challenging. These are extraordinarily challenging times; aphorisms pry open our minds by slipping some healthy doubt, skepticism, and self-reflection into our thinking. It is in this mental space that aphorisms open up that new ideas, new solutions can form. Neither candidate really answered Peggy’s question. A shame, really, because as Mark Twain (was he a Democrat or a Republican?) said:
It ain’t what you don’t know that gets you into trouble, it’s what you know for sure that just ain’t so…
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At the Multatuli Museum
Posted on October 3, 2008
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Multatuli (see pp.163–165 of Geary’s Guide) was the pseudonym of Eduard Douwes Dekker, the son of a Dutch sea captain. Dekker seemed destined for a career as an obscure colonial bureaucrat until he uncovered corruption in Dutch–administered Java and decided to expose it. When Dekker brought the exploitation of local labor to the attention of his superiors, they fired him. He returned to Europe and roamed around the Continent for a while, trying to earn enough money gambling to survive. He believed he had invented a foolproof system for winning at casinos, but he always lost. In 1860, he published Max Havelaar, a fictionalized account of the colonial abuses he had witnessed in the Dutch East Indies. The book caused a sensation throughout Europe, though it initially did nothing to stop the exploitation of the Javanese. After the success of Max Havelaar, Dekker made a career out of polemical writing, becoming an early supporter of women’s rights, an impassioned lobbyist for educational reform and a fierce critic of religion. He was the first Dutchman to be cremated, in Germany, because at the time of Multatuli’s death it was illegal to be cremated in the Netherlands. His pseudonym is Latin and means, “I have suffered much.” I recently visited the home in which he was born, a tiny house in a narrow lane between the Singel and the Herengracht in central Amsterdam, now a museum. The museum houses an extensive collection of Multatuli books in many different languages, as well as a few scattered personal effects: his desk, an urn for ashes (though his aren’t in it), and the tattered, tasselled red divan on which he died. Some of his aphorisms:
Faith is the voluntary incarceration of the mind.
No one has a high enough estimation of what he could be, nor a low enough one of what he is.
A standpoint reached as the result of an ascent has a different meaning from the same standpoint reached as the result of a fall.
One does not advance the swimming abilities of ducks by throwing the eggs in the water.
He who has never fallen has no true appreciation of what’s needed to stand firm.
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Aphorisms by Fred Lee
Posted on October 1, 2008
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Fred Lee says his blog, an almost daily posting of fresh aphorisms, “provides more than 100% of the daily recommended dosages of pessimism, negativity and ill-humor.” In his profile, he lists his nicknames as “the anti-fortune cookie,” his religion as “secular,” and his interests as “aphorisms.” His blog contains lots and lots of aphorisms, and lots of other types of slightly longer mullings over and ruminations. Mr. Lee is nothing if not prolific; the following are excerpted from postings for September, 2008 alone:
Observe closely how people treat their parents, especially when they think nobody’s watching.
You can’t ever get what you want and you can only have what you love. Therefore it is most melancholy to want love and almost absurd to love want.
I move closer to closeness, but distance is still but a short distance away.
If the event is memorable enough, the memory will generate novelty each time it returns.
Intellect is a matter of cultivation. Intelligence is a matter of dumb luck.
You disbelieve in Everything, but have not gone so far as to believe in Nothing.
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Aphorisms by Shalom Freedman
Posted on September 28, 2008
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Shalom Freedman has loved aphorisms all his life, and cites some auspicious sources of inspiration in the Jewish wisdom tradition. “The one book which is aphoristic in flavor which struck me earliest on is Pirke Avot (Ethics of the Fathers),” he says. “Also, I return and read again and again in Ecclesiastes (’Of making many books there is no end, and much study is a weariness of the flesh.’)” He is the author of Life as Creation: A Jewish Way of Thinking about the World (Jason Aronson Inc., 1993). His more recent aphoristic inspirations include Lincoln, Kafka, and Borges. “Aphorisms in their density connect in my mind with a certain kind of poetry,” Mr. Freedman says. “Getting there firstest with the mostest meaning.” Here are some of Mr. Freedman’s firstests with the mostests:
‘Virtual’ immortality is now guaranteed to all of us. But no one really knows for how long.
There are just so many things a person can effectively do at one time, probably no more than one.
Atheists are usually not content with denying the existence of God. They feel compelled to prove how much they hate Him.
The purposeless pleasure of endless play is the pointless paradise of meaningless mankind.
The infinite future is more frightening than the finite past.
We are so small we are not even noise for most of the universe.
Aphorisms by the Covert Comic
Posted on September 26, 2008
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The Covert Comic, a.k.a. John Alejandro King, has been subverting and perverting the course of justice for … well, I’m not sure for how long, really, but most likely for a very long time, indeed. Trouble is, there’s very little bio on the Covert Comic since he works deep undercover and so much of his derring-do and daring-don’ts are, quite understandably, classified. What can be said with a reasonable degree of confidence is that he offers very funny bumper stickers for sale on his website:
Can I not pay attention and just be outraged all the time?
and
The real F-word is ‘future.’
“Apply these stickers to the bumpers of CIA or FBI counterintelligence officers’ cars, heavily traveled streets in Georgetown, cubicles at the Defense Intelligence Agency, the back of Air Force One, etc.,” he urges. His aphorisms are pretty amusing, too. To wit:
America is a pot that’s melting.
All things being equal, you’d never need to use this cliché.
All bedfellows are strange.
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More Aphorisms by Lori Ellison
Posted on September 24, 2008
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You may remember Lori Ellison from a previous posting of her aphorisms here, in October of 2007. In addition to being an aphorist, she is an artist, voracious consumer of aphorists’ biographies, and lifetime devotee of independent bookstores, one of her current haunts being Spoonbill & Sugartown in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. Here is a selection of recent work, beginning with a timely reflection on matters economic:
Creative accounting is the oxymoron that ate the global economy.
There comes a time when having painted oneself into an intensely personal corner makes for some very good paintings.
Pleasures are things that we take, whereas joy is in moments that we are given.
Most people go to soothsayers in hopes of hearing something soothing.
Falling on one’s face periodically and frequently is preferable to spending life nodding one’s head like a bobble toy in the back of an automobile.
Eccentricity is a more local, vernacular, and benevolent form of notoriety.
Art now is made with much exercise and little vitality.
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