Posted on 07/31/2016 5:49:16 PM PDT by Kaslin
Mark Shields, the Democratic pundit on the PBS NewsHour, shocked the anchors a bit on Thursday night in a roundtable to discuss what Hillary Clinton needed to do with her acceptance speech. His answer was she needed to focus on people who feel let down by the economy....but not before he said she had the worst campaign slogan he'd ever heard!
MARK SHIELDS: I think she - first of all, it's a great victory, acknowledge it. She has made history. The single worst campaign slogan I have ever heard, "I'm with her," I mean, it means nothing. It absolutely means nothing to anybody.
GWEN IFILL (after a nervous laugh): Maybe if you say like, "I'm with her."
MARK SHIELDS: I'm with her. I mean, like, "get over it."
I mean, it's about appealing -- and it says nothing about anybody's life, about the country. I was just thinking tonight of great speeches given by presidents on such occasions, and “The measure of our progress is not whether we add more to the abundance of those who have much, whether we provide enough for those who have too little,” Franklin Roosevelt.
Someone could have told Shields it's a slogan like "I Like Ike." It's a button, not a platform. But the campaign that says "don't vote for her because she's a woman" is at the same time constantly underlining her "historic" candidacy. That slogan is all about just channeling the excitement about her gender.
As he often does, David Brooks agreed with Shields, although this one wasn't a pro-Hillary point.
JUDY WOODRUFF: David Brooks, you and Mark have, I think, basically agreed for most of this campaign that you haven’t heard from Hillary Clinton the rationale for her candidacy. fter all these months, do you agree with Mark it’s still not there?
DAVID BROOKS: Yes, I agree with the “I’m with her.” It’s about I, though. The great god of Narcissus, which we all worship --
JUDY WOODRUFF: I actually thought it was “Stronger Together.”
AMY WALTER: Well, now it is.
WOODRUFF: Either way.
DAVID BROOKS: I would like to see an animating passion. Tim Kaine actually had a good line. What animated you before you got into politics? And she actually does have a story there to tell about children. And so drawing that animating passion will do good
Brooks wasn't a fan when the speech was over later that night. He called it "below average"....after the anchor Gwen Ifill proclaimed "She rocked the house!"
Tim Graham must be young... when people said "I like Ike" it wasn't because he gave Rara Speeches or 'charmed' people - it was BECAUSE HE SAVED THE UNITED STATES BY DEFEATING THE NASIS.
Gwen Ifill, the neutral and objective black journalist, was caught swooning over Obama a while back.
“Mark Shields is still alive???”
In a manner of speaking. The old hack is still kicking but his brain has passed the expiration date.
How old is Maxi Shields, anyway? He was a big Truman supporter, IIRC.
I tried to watch a little of FOX News to get an overview of the RAT convention. First I saw George Will trashing Trump, and an hour later, I saw Krauthammer trashing Trump. They had both been asked about the RAT convention, not Trump. The next time I turned on FOX was to watch Gutfeld’s show last night.
“It is no matter WHAT age they are!”
True! But I needed to poke them in the eye. Feels good knowing they’ll be agitated for a day or two. :)
We need to defund NPR and PBS.
Tthey are anachronisms today.
If the libs want them, they can pay for them.
It’s not the 1930s anymore.
I like what Trump said in his acceptance speech.
I’m asking for your support tonight so that I can be your champion in the White House.
My opponent asks her supporters to recite a three word loyalty pledge. It reads: Im With Her.
I choose to recite a different pledge.
My pledge reads:
IM WITH YOU THE AMERICAN PEOPLE.
I am your voice.
So to every parent who dreams for their child, and every child who dreams for their future, I say these words to you tonight:
Im with you, I will fight for you, and I will win for you.
He just turned 79 on May 25,
Thank you. 79 is not all that old anymore.
On Fox News Sunday Hillary basically called the Benghazi family members and FBI Director Comey “liars”. Chris Wallace challenged her with a few facts and quoted Comey from his testimony, but she never budged. Wallace then moved on to softball stuff—the historic moment, her mother, standing up to bullies, etc. Then I had to suffer through George Will and the Trump-bashing. You didn’t miss anything.
(That's if she wins. Perish the thought.)
;^)
Amen!
Party ownership of the print media
made it easy to manipulate public opinion,
and the film and radio carried the process further.
....... The Ministry of Truth, Winston's place of work, contained, it was said, three thousand rooms above ground level, and corresponding ramifications below. The Ministry of Truth concerned itself with Lies. Party ownership of the print media made it easy to manipulate public opinion, and the film and radio carried the process further. The primary job of the Ministry of Truth was to supply the citizens of Oceania with newspapers, films, textbooks, telescreen programmes, plays, novels - with every conceivable kind of information, instruction, or entertainment, from a statue to a slogan, from a lyric poem to a biological treatise, and from a child's spelling-book to a Newspeak dictionary. Winston worked in the RECORDS DEPARTMENT (a single branch of the Ministry of Truth) editing and writing for The Times. He dictated into a machine called a speakwrite. Winston would receive articles or news-items which for one reason or another it was thought necessary to alter, or, in Newspeak, rectify. If, for example, the Ministry of Plenty forecast a surplus, and in reality the result was grossly less, Winston's job was to change previous versions so the old version would agree with the new one. This process of continuous alteration was applied not only to newspapers, but to books, periodicals, pamphlets, posters, leaflets, films, sound-tracks, cartoons, photographs - to every kind of literature or documentation which might conceivably hold any political or ideological significance. When his day's work started, Winston pulled the speakwrite towards him, blew the dust from its mouthpiece, and put on his spectacles. He dialed 'back numbers' on the telescreen and called for the appropriate issues of The Times, which slid out of the pneumatic tube after only a few minutes' delay. The messages he had received referred to articles or news-items which for one reason or another it was thought necessary to rectify. In the walls of the cubicle there were three orifices. To the right of the speakwrite, a small pneumatic tube for written messages; to the left, a larger one for newspapers; and on the side wall, within easy reach of Winston's arm, a large oblong slit protected by a wire grating. This last was for the disposal of waste paper. Similar slits existed in thousands or tens of thousands throughout the building, not only in every room but at short intervals in every corridor. For some reason they were nicknamed memory holes. When one knew that any document was due for destruction, or even when one saw a scrap of waste paper lying about, it was an automatic action to lift the flap of the nearest memory hole and drop it in, whereupon it would be whirled away on a current of warm air to the enormous furnaces which were hidden somewhere in the recesses of the building. As soon as Winston had dealt with each of the messages, he clipped his speakwritten corrections to the appropriate copy of The Times and pushed them into the pneumatic tube. Then, with a movement which was as nearly as possible unconscious, he crumpled up the original message and any notes that he himself had made, and dropped them into the memory hole to be devoured by the flames. What happened in the unseen labyrinth to which the tubes led, he did not know in detail, but he did know in general terms. As soon as all the corrections which happened to be necessary in any particular number of The Times had been assembled and collated, that number would be reprinted, the original copy destroyed, and the corrected copy placed on the files in its stead. In the cubicle next to him the little woman with sandy hair toiled day in day out, simply at tracking down and deleting from the Press the names of people who had been vaporized and were therefore considered never to have existed. And this hall, with its fifty workers or thereabouts, was only one-sub-section, a single cell, as it were, in the huge complexity of the Records Department. Beyond, above, below, were other swarms of workers engaged in an unimaginable multitude of jobs. There were huge printing-shops and their sub editors, their typography experts, and their elaborately equipped studios for the faking of photographs. There was the tele-programmes section with its engineers, its producers and its teams of actors specially chosen for their skill in imitating voices; clerks whose job was simply to draw up lists of books and periodicals which were due for recall; vast repositories where the corrected documents were stored; and the hidden furnaces where the original copies were destroyed. And somewhere or other, quite anonymous, there were the directing brains who co-ordinated the whole effort and laid down the lines of policy which made it necessary that this fragment of the past should be preserved, that one falsified, and the other rubbed out of existence. |
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