Morning Coffee (90)

Good Morning Coffee drinkers; or afternoon, depending on your reading habits. It’s another semi-fine day, right? I leave that to your judgment.

A Touch of the Ole Midas:

If my ancestors had more foresight when they came to this New World, they would have perhaps assisted Cortez in relieving the natives of their precious metals. Or perhaps they would have bolted for California 1849. Because if they passed onto me a mere pound of gold, I would have at present a pretty good sum of money in the form of the glimmering metal. Yesterday the price of gold rose to $894.40 an ounce before settling back down to $881.80. I’m told that’s a record high (although it still falls well below the inflation adjusted high of 1980 when gold reached $2,200 an ounce). Silver, gold’s oldest competitor for worship by shiny-object-loving primitives, rose to a paltry $15.94 an ounce. Platinum though would run you about $1,558 per, which means if I liquidated all of my assets, including the ownership of the highly profitable Morning Coffee, I could purchase roughly 1/10^th of an ounce of platinum. Clearly, I haven’t the curse of Midas.

Unlimited Refills:

Do you know what is scary? A significant percentage (I think it was 30%, but I’ve lost the source) of those who voted for Hillary Clinton in New Hampshire’s primary said that if given a choice, they would have voted for Bill Clinton again. You might assume that this is scary for a number of reasons; that Bill was a bad President or made a mockery out of the Office of the Presidency or was weak in some area or another. But this isn’t what I think is scary about this. No, it’s scary because it means that a surprising percentage of our citizenry have no regard whatsoever for an integral part of our political system, and a part that I think should be expanded far beyond its present use. I’m talking about term limits. Apparently, a check on the personal accumulation of power isn’t all that important provided people feel good.

I guess it should come as no surprise, since we are talking about the same species who has been a-okay with handing over near unlimited powers to all sorts of people, provided that they make their problems appear to go away and make them feel safe and snug in their beds. I’m not talking, of course, about people who’ve been forced to bear the yoke of tyranny by violence or were unlucky enough to have been born into it. I’m talking about people who actively cede power to an individual or to an office (which are generally occupied by people). Our version of Cincinnatus, George Washington, would have been given a crown by the people had he desired and accepted it. We would have simply handed over all for which we had so recently fought because a man gave us a warm and fuzzy feeling of security; because he was a competent leader and because he had helped win us our freedom. Wouldn’t that would have been the height of irony? Ceding our freedoms to the man who helped us win them? We have already created our own aristocracy, and while it may be that titles and honorifics are not passed down from generation to generation, the concept is the same. Knowing that, what would our government look like had Washington not wished to retire to Mount Vernon? It’s a blessing (and a curse) that our political institutions are now pretty firmly entrenched, as limits on Presidential terms are a Constitutional Amendment (22^nd, ratified in 1951). But as history has shown us, firmly entrenched is a mere illusion of permanence when it comes to man’s institutions, for without conscious renewal of the vows of constraint, they will be slowly eroded by those who seek more power. What’s surprising, though, is that it took so long for the Constitution to be amended in the first place, considering what Jefferson wrote about it in 1807 ("if some termination to the services of the chief Magistrate be not fixed by the Constitution, or supplied by practice, his office, nominally four years, will in fact become for life”) and what others thought before and after him. What is not surprising, however, is that while the purveyors of our laws have limited Presidential power in this regard, they have not taken the opportunity to similarly constrain themselves. Hopefully that can be changed in the future, and we can implement another check against “benevolent tyranny.” And hopefully, we don’t someday, in a fit of irrational fear, repeal the 22^nd Amendment and crown ourselves a new Caesar.

The aforementioned bit of New Hampshire exit polling, about which I was speaking prior to mounting the soapbox, also suggests that perhaps a third of those who voted for Hillary Clinton might have done so solely out of nostalgia. That is not as scary as the disregard for term limits, as it’s simply part of human nature to be nostalgic, but it is jarring to think that Mrs. Clinton might be elected, whatever her merits or demerits, based largely on the fact that her husband was once President and the passage of 8 years has bathed his term in a rose-colored light. Is this how simple we are as an electorate? Rhetorical question. If this is the case, what I wrote in previous Morning Coffee (81) certainly must be even more foreboding. Imagine another Clinton or a Bush getting a chance because of nostalgia.

Sensationalism is Grand:

I was itching for something else to write about, since the above is simply too short considering yesterday’s grandiose composition. Thankfully, I found something about which to complain. Here is the Drudge Report’s headline for an article on some local news station’s website about school lunches:

“School bans desserts; Parents given strict policy for bag lunches…”

That sounds great, right? I was actually sort of angry that a school would dictate what I was allowed to put in my child’s Transformers lunch box. I was going to write up an angry diatribe about the nanny state and what not, because it’s getting out of hand and this article would have illustrated that. I’m fine with the school changing their lunch policy and providing my kid a quality meal for a mere $7 (sarcasm), but not with dictating to me. But here’s what the article says about bag lunches:

“Parents can pack anything they want in their kids' lunch, but they've all received the school's wellness policy that encourages them to go for healthy snacks.”

The difference between what the headline suggests and how the article reads on that topic is radical. Drudge is known for sensational headlines, but this is probably the worst I’ve ever seen. In no way do I read that parents are given a strict policy for bag lunches. I wish people were a little less inflammatory. Here at the Morning Coffee we (I) try to approach issues with a certain amount of constraint and objectivity. I probably fail more often than not considering I’m but a man and imperfect and such, but I hope I’m never as blatant as the above example.

Word of the Day: Ephemeral (adjective): 1. Lasting a very short time; short-lived; transitory. 2. Lasting but one day. 3. Anything short-lived, as certain insects.

On This Day in History: In one of my favorite moments in history, Julius Caesar crosses the Rubicon, starting a civil war which would be the beginning of the end of the Republican Era of Roman history (49 BCE). Eventually, the Senate and People of Rome (SPQR) would shower upon Caesar numerous accolades, and would elect to make him Dictator for life. He would soon be killed by the famous tyrannicide Marcus Junius Brutus and his cohorts, but the damage to the Republic was irreversible, and Rome would be ruled, for better or for worse, by emperors until its end. It should be noted that Rome’s disdain of tyrants and kings was even more deep-seated than our own, and yet they succumbed. Of equal relevance to the today’s overarching theme, Thomas Paine first published his Common Sense on this day (1776). In this publication, Paine asserts that he will “offer nothing more than simple facts, plain arguments, and common sense…”

"A long habit of not thinking a thing wrong, gives it a superficial appearance of being right, and raises at first a formidable outcry in defense of custom." – Thomas Paine