Sherry Chandler

To quote Bob Dylan.

But Abraham Lincoln didn’t say this:

NEW YORK The drive by some political and military figures — and pundits — to paint those who oppose the war in Iraq as traitors or at least not supporting the troops has hit another low, with a Washington Times columnist trumpeting an incendiary quote from Abraham Lincoln shown to be a fabrication last year.

Frank Gaffney, Jr. opened his latest column with this: “Congressmen who willfully take actions during wartime that damage morale and undermine the military are saboteurs and should be arrested, exiled, or hanged.” — President Abraham Lincoln.

He continues: “It is, of course, unimaginable that the penalties proposed by one of our most admired presidents for the crime of dividing America in the face of the enemy would be contemplated — let alone applied — today. Still, as the U.S. House of Representatives and Senate engage in interminable debate about resolutions whose effects can only be to ‘damage morale and undermine the military’ while emboldening our enemies, it is time to reflect on what constitutes inappropriate behavior in time of war.”

One problem: Lincoln never said it.

…The conservative author who touched off the misquotation frenzy, J. Michael Waller, concedes that the words are his, not Lincoln’s.

Hey! I started Valentine’s Day with John Donne so I figure I’d just as well continue on in a sort of metaphysical vein by sharing this e-mail comment from Charlie Hughes:

It took me an hour of Google to find this quote I heard on the radio this past Sunday.

“It is the role of government to prevent crime, not sin.”
- Mayor John P. Grace, 1911

So said the Mayor of Charleston SC when he was asked if he intended to shut down the city’s notorious whorehouse. The house was finally shut down in the ’50s.

Anyway, I found the implications of this statement profound. I’d never thought of it such simple terms, and how the principle brings clarity to so many of today’s divisive issues.

Yes, indeed. A profoundly simple (or simply profound) statement of a complicated problem. Much better than my formulation — morality is not the same as legality. It’s apples and oranges — or maybe apples and penguins — but our nation has always had trouble grasping this simple precept.

One comforting thing about crusades to wipe out sin through the legal code: it’s a battle that can never be won, so crusaders will never run out of work.

Meanwhile, The Guardian tells us that a coin-find in Newcastle gives us a pretty good look at the profiles of two of histories most famous lovers: Antony and Cleopatra. The verdict? Not exactly Burton and Taylor:

Far from possessing the classical looks of Elizabeth Taylor, or the many other goddesses who have played her on stage and screen, the Egyptian queen is shown with a shrewish profile while Antony suffers from bulging eyes, a crooked nose and a bull neck.

…

The question of Cleopatra’s looks has fascinated posterity, particularly during male-dominated centuries when it was seen as the key to her hold over Antony and, before him, Julius Caesar. She is said to have seduced Caesar in 48BC by presenting herself to him rolled up in a rare and valuable Persian carpet, with nothing else on.

“The popular image we have of Cleopatra is that of a beautiful queen who was adored by Roman politicians and generals,” said Clare Pickersgill, assistant director of archaeological museums at Newcastle University. “But the coinage bears out recent research which suggests there was much more to her than that.”

The denarius profile clearly emphasises strong characteristics including a determined, pointed chin, thin lips which are often associated with a sharp nature, and in particular a long, pointed nose. The last has been famously central to discussion of what Cleopatra really looked like, with Pascal going so far as to write in his Pensées: “Cleopatra’s nose, had it been shorter, the whole face of the world would have been changed.”

Read the whole thing. Especially the quotes at the end.

Meanwhile, The Human Flower Project tells us the story of Cupid and Psyche:

Whom does Cupid go home to? The figures of mythology, except Hestia and a few other B-grade gods, weren’t known for domesticity. Cupid seems especially unlikely to pair off. But he was smitten by love, for Psyche, a mortal girl, virgin, and great beauty. The public got so worked up about her they forgot to honor the love goddess Aphrodite (Venus) and instead went strewing offerings of flowers before this human girl.

It did not end well, of course.

And this seems like a good enough time to mention that I finally got around to watching “The Libertine,” Johnny Depps’ film portrayal of the poet John Wilmot, Second Earl of Rochester. I was actually a little disappointed. Depp’s Rochester often seemed like a smart-assed teen-ager mocking his father-figure, Charles II. Still it was somewhat eye-opening about the doings of the Restoration, which were bawdy even by today’s standards.

The film does a set-piece featuring “A Ramble in St. James’s Park,” which begins thus:

Much wine had passed, with grave discourse
Of who f*cks who, and who does worse
(Such as you usually do hear
From those that diet at the Bear),
When I, who still take care to see
Drunkenness relieved by lechery,
Went out into St. James’s Park
To cool my head and fire my heart.
But though St. James has th’ honor on ‘t,
‘Tis consecrate to prick and c*nt.

Rochester is said to have been much influenced by Donne. But somehow between the reign of James I, when Donne flourished, and that of his grandson Charles II, courtly poetry seems to have become considerably more frank.

If you need cheering up on this icy gray Valentine’s Day, I suggest you read Dana Milbank on the House Republicans’ strategy in debating the anti-surge resolution:

The Republican complaints brought to mind the Woody Allen joke about two old ladies at a Catskills resort. “One of ‘em says, ‘Boy, the food at this place is really terrible.’ The other one says, ‘Yeah, I know, and such small portions.’ “

The Flea

Mark but this flea, and mark in this,
How little that which thou deniest me is;
Me it sucked first, and now sucks thee,
And in this flea our two bloods mingled be;
Confess it, this cannot be said
A sin or shame, or loss of maidenhead,
   Yet this enjoys before it woo
   And pampered swells with one blood made of two,
   And this, alas, is more than we would do.

Oh stay, three lives in one flea spare,
Where we almost, nay more than married are.
This flea is you and I, and this
Our marriage bed, and marriage temple is;
Though parents grudge, and you, we’are met,
And cloistered in these living walls of jet.
   Though use make you apt to kill me,
   Let not to this, self murder added be,
   And sacrilege, three sins in killing three.

Cruel and sudden, hast thou since
Purpled thy nail, in blood of innocence?
In what could this flea guilty be,
Except in that drop which it sucked from thee?
Yet thou triumph’st, and say’st that thou
Find’st not thyself, nor me the weaker now;
   ’Tis true, then learn how false, fears be;
   Just so much honour, when thou yield’st to me,
   Will waste, as this flea’s death took life from thee.

— John Donne, from The Complete English Poems (Penguin, 1971)