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Schumer accused Trump of governing via temper tantrum. He's right. The wall is an ineffective and immoral solution to a deeply complicated problem. It should be rejected at every turn. And yet there's a peculiar quality to temper tantrums: in the absence of good parenting, and if you keep them up long enough, you get your way.
When government corruption is chronic and the streets are ruled by armed gangs, there are no collective funds for quality health care or education. The thousands of migrants at the US border are fleeing the effects of climate change, wide-scale government corruption, brutal state violence, and flourishing non-state gang rule.
The cast of mostly unknowns is multiracial and spans the spectrum of sexual orientations and gender identities. Not long ago that might have seemed transgressive, but these days it seems like the least that could be hoped for from a piece of mainstream entertainment.
What is so urgent here is not a sense of being morbid. Nor, in the main, was there even a vengeful note. This was unalloyed grief, unimpaired by manipulation and political exploitation.
Birmingham's intervention, and Tehan's consolidation of that ill-exercised discretion, suggests Australian Research Council funding will be politicised by executive veto. Expertise will be subordinated to the whimsy of the education minister of the day; researchers will be pondering how to shape their applications accordingly.
Here on pristine Tamborine, the rainforest became the haunt of avian ventriloquists, birds more often heard than seen, whose raised tail plumes would simulate the contours of an ancient lyre, companion to the poet's voice when Sappho lent words to desire in lyrics of such eloquence that hearts of listeners caught fire.
The corporations have had it their own way for most of this century but two recent events have startled them. One is the election of a US president who says he is an economic nationalist. The other was Brexit. The battle lines have been drawn between a unipolar, American dominated world and a multipolar world.
Some days I feel like a people trafficker, though I'm not making a zack out of the trafficking. Other days I see myself as a latter-day Oskar Schindler. But mostly I just feel trapped along with the 1000 refugees and asylum seekers I'm doing my not-very-successful best to get the hell out of an open prison called Bangkok.
The desperate, semi-literate plea that one has been taken 'out of context' is the first resort of many politicians challenged for being indelicate, stupid etc. It is its own condemnation. The latest appeal to contextual sensitivity though, that of Anning in ducking the implications of the phrase 'final solution', deserves some contextualising.
The earthworms and bees were the first to know, wrote Nobel laureate and Belarusian native Svetlana Alexievich. The bees stayed in their hives; the worms buried themselves so deep that fishermen digging for bait on the banks of the Pripyat River were perplexed that they couldn't find any. The humans were slower to learn.
How are we to honour the commitment to peace of these Japanese and Maralinga survivors of nuclear conflagrations unleashed maliciously or negligently last century? We need to renew our commitment to painstaking negotiation of international treaties and agreements designed to ensure peace and security for all, insisting on the dignity and human rights of all.
In Tahiti I fall ill, bronchitis amid humid splendour. At a summer camp in Dutchess County I get the sack. Cops warn me for hitch-hiking after sundown in Maine. In the wintry Cotswolds I wheeze in a bedewed attic. A lost aunt is found in Liverpool post-Toxteth.
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