Wednesday, November 7, 2012


Yesterday was the election -- ballots were cast, results were announced, and there was much rejoicing and/or weeping and gnashing of teeth. I have a lot of thoughts about the race, the president, and our ballot questions like 5 and 6 and 7, but I think those deserve a more thoughtful post and honestly I am mildly hesitant of topics that are such holy hand grenades so today I am just having E.B. White do all the work for me. I heard this earlier today and really liked it, Charlotte and Wilbur's creator originally wrote it during World War Two.

E.B.White's meaning of democracy:
    "We received a letter from the Writers' War Board the other day asking for a statement on "The Meaning of Democracy." It is presumably our duty to comply with such a request, and it is certainly our pleasure.
Surely the Board knows what democracy is. It is the line that forms on the right. It is the don't in don't shove. It is the hole in the stuffed shirt through which the sawdust slowly trickles, the dent in the high hat. Democracy is the recurrent suspicion that more than half of the people are right more than half of the time. It is the feeling of privacy in the voting booths, the feeling of communion in the libraries, the feeling of vitality everywhere.
     Democracy is the letter to the editor. Democracy is the score at the beginning of the ninth. It is an idea which hasn't been disproved yet, a song the words of which have not gone bad. It's the mustard on the hot dog and the cream in the rationed coffee. Democracy is a request from a War Board, in the middle of the morning in the middle of a war, wanting to know what democracy is."
The New Yorker 1943-07-03

No comments:

Post a Comment