Sherry Chandler » 2006 » February » 16
in Slate:
Must one really argue the case that when the vice president of the United States shoots someone—intentionally or unintentionally, fatally or otherwise—that the public has a right to hear about it? It’s true that there is historical precedent for Cheney’s attempted cover-up. When Vice President Aaron Burr shot Alexander Hamilton in a duel in 1804, Burr’s second used an umbrella to obscure the wounded man from the view of potential witnesses. Burr went home and mentioned nothing to his luncheon guest about what had happened that morning. After Hamilton died, a public cry went up and Burr fled to an undisclosed location in Georgia.
A somewhat stronger American tradition, however, suggests that high officials are obliged to inform the public not just about the rare violent encounter, but also about their financial interests and the condition of their health, and above all about the workings of the government. In this regard, Cheney’s role model appears to be not Burr, but the belligerent and contemptuous Spiro Agnew.
Read the rest for a nice historical summary of the public’s right to know.
Link courtesy of War and Piece.
This post was written by sherry
As a poet, I like to think I am sensitive to every least nuance of language.
I was, therefore, a bit amused and bemused by Mr. Cheney’s statement of responsibility, as quoted in the NYTimes:
“Ultimately, I’m the guy who pulled the trigger that fired the round that hit Harry.”
Ultimately, I find this statement considerably different from this one: “I shot Harry.”
This “I’m the guy who pulled the trigger…” statement is the one the NYTimes is highlighting. A little later on in the article they quote Cheney thus:
“I’m the guy who pulled the trigger and shot my friend.”
This one is getting a little closer and gives the notion that it’s intention that the man is trying to avoid. I guess I can give him that. “I shot Harry,” could be construed as “I meant to shoot Harry.” “I’m the guy who pulled the trigger” has more of a feel of “and Harry just happened to get shot.”
I was also amused at this:
Katharine Armstrong, whose family owns the ranch, had said in interviews that Dr Pepper was served at lunch.
Dr. Pepper, the drink of Vice Presidents. Good advertising?
A little friendlier in the Washington Post? But a little more coherent, too.
“Ultimately, I’m the guy who pulled the trigger and fired the round that hit Harry,” Cheney said in a hastily arranged White House interview with Fox News Channel anchor Brit Hume. “And you can talk about all of the other conditions that existed at the time, but that’s the bottom line. And there’s no — it was not Harry’s fault. You can’t blame anybody else. I’m the guy who pulled the trigger and shot my friend. And I say that is something I’ll never forget.”
This post was written by sherry
The 2006 Jesse Stuart Writing Symposium will be held at Murray State on March 1 in the Freed Curd Auditorium, Industry & Technology Center
Keynote address at 3:30 by Hal Crowther. I know Crowther best from his “Dealer’s Choice” column in The Oxford American. Those essays, published in a collection called Cathedrals of Kudzu (LSU Press, 2000), have won the Lillian Smith Book Award, the Fellowship Prize for Non-Fiction from the Fellowship of Southern Writers, and Foreword Magazine’s Book of the Year prize for essays. Cathedrals has been nominated for a Pulitzer – Crowther’s 7th Pulitzer nomination – and a National Book Award. His latest collection of essays, Gather at the River (LSU Press, 2005) has also been nominated for a National Book Award. I know Crowther is highly supportive of regional literature, because I myself have felt his presence at the Appalachian Writers Workshop at Hindman and the Appalachian Writers Association meetings.
His talk will be followed by a panel discussion with Crowther and Lee Smith.
And at 7:30, Lee Smith will read. If by any chance, you haven’t had a chance to hear Lee Smith read, I can assure you it’s a treat! I first encountered Lee at the Woman Writers Conference a few moons ago where she described herself as “the voice of poor white trash.” After that I had to run out and buy every work of hers I could find. They did not disappoint. I’d rather have a quiet afternoon with a Lee Smith novel than just about anything. Lee has won a 1999 Academy Award in Fiction from the American Academy of Arts and Letters, the Robert Penn Warren Prize for Fiction, the Lila Wallace / Readers Digest Award, the Weatherford Award for Appalachian Literature, and two O. Henry Awards for short fiction. Her latest novel, The Last Girls (Shannon Ravenel Books, 2002), was a co-winner of the Southern Book Critics Circle Award. Lee is, of course, the goddess of the Appalachian Writers Workshop and mentor to Kentucky’s own Silas House.
Although I don’t see it on the schedule, my correspondents tell me that there will be a reception after the reading, too.
This post was written by sherry
