Tag: Theodore Roosevelt

March 5, 1876: Speak Softly But Carry a Big Speech

Posted on by Richard Daybell

John Schrank was born in Bavaria on March 5, 1876, and emigrated to the United States when he was 9. Things didn’t go all that well for John. His parents died soon after their arrival. He was taken in by an aunt and uncle, working for them in their New York tavern. They also died, and when his only girlfriends died as well, he sold off his inheritance properties and set to rambling around the east coast. Just as this was beginning to sound like the plot of an opera, he got religion and became a bit of a biblical authority (at least in his own eyes), lecturing other folks on their sins in various barrooms and public places. Although he annoyed a lot of people, he did no real harm.

During the 1912 presidential contests, the Republican party suffered a schism, each side wanting the Republican tent to be a little smaller, excluding the other side. Conservatives were led by William Howard Taft, and moderates (known today as RINOs) were led by ex-President Theodore Roosevelt. When Taft won the nomination, Roosevelt bolted and formed the Bull Moose Party. Roosevelt was campaigning in Wisconsin when he was shot by our biblical scholar John Schrank. The bullet hit the text of Roosevelt’s speech, eliminating several dozen useless adjectives and other excess verbiage.

The speech was much improved and Roosevelt himself was unhurt. Schrank explained to authorities that he had nothing against Roosevelt as an individual; in fact he rather liked him. His quarrel was with ‘Roosevelt, the third-termer’ and was meant as a warning to any other politician who might seek a third term. And not only that, shooting Roosevelt was not his own idea. The ghost of William McKinley made him do it. The ghost rose up right out of a coffin, pointed at a picture of Roosevelt and said: “Do it.”

Even with this quite splendid explanation, the authorities nonetheless sent Schrank away to a Wisconsin mental hospital where he remained until his death in 1943.

Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

Although the United States threw in the towel on the prohibition of alcohol back in 1933, one alcoholic beverage remained in the crosshairs of the temperance types for another seven decades.

Absinthe, also known as the Green Fairy or the Green Lady, was created back in the early 19th century by French doctor, Pierre Ordinaire, an innocent enough sounding gentleman. It was made by infusing wormwood, fennel, anise and other herbs into alcohol, creating an elixir that tastes like licorice but packs a much more powerful punch. The good doctor used it to treat a variety of illnesses.

It later became trendy as an alcoholic beverage thanks to celebrity imbibers such as Ernest Hemingway, Pablo Picasso, Oscar Wilde, James Joyce and Vincent van Gogh, who thought it increased their creativity. But then came studies that unfairly claimed that absinthe not only had hallucinogenic effects but caused immorality, antisocial behavior and madness. Some critics even claimed that it was absinthe that led van Gogh to take a knife to his ear.

Absinthe was soon proscribed (as opposed to prescribed) pretty much everywhere, and remained so throughout the 20th century, until a host of modern studies cleared its name.  It received its U.S. reprieve on March 5, 2007.

March 5, 2007: Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

Posted on by Richard Daybell

Although the United States threw in the towel on the prohibition of alcohol back in 1933, one alcoholic beverage remained in the crosshairs of the temperance types for another seven decades.

Absinthe, also known as the Green Fairy or the Green Lady, was created back in the early 19th century by French doctor, Pierre Ordinaire, an innocent enough sounding gentleman. It was made by infusing wormwood, fennel, anise and other herbs into alcohol, creating an elixir that tastes like licorice but packs a much more powerful punch. The good doctor used it to treat a variety of illnesses.

It later became trendy as an alcoholic beverage thanks to celebrity imbibers such as Ernest Hemingway, Pablo Picasso, Oscar Wilde, James Joyce and Vincent van Gogh, who thought it increased their creativity. But then came studies that unfairly claimed that absinthe not only had hallucinogenic effects but caused immorality, antisocial behavior and madness. Some critics even claimed that it was absinthe that led van Gogh to take a knife to his ear.

Absinthe was soon proscribed (as opposed to prescribed) pretty much everywhere, and remained so throughout the 20th century, until a host of modern studies cleared its name.  It received its U.S. reprieve on March 5, 2007.

Speak Softly But Carry a Big Speech

John Schrank was born in Bavaria on March 5, 1876, and emigrated to the United States when he was 9. Things didn’t go all that well for John. His parents died soon after their arrival. He was taken in by an aunt and uncle, working for them in their New York tavern. They also died, and when his only girlfriends died as well, he sold off his inheritance properties and set to rambling around the east coast. Just as this was beginning to sound like the plot of an opera, he got religion and became a bit of a biblical authority (at least in his own eyes), lecturing other folks on their sins in various barrooms and public places. Although he annoyed a lot of people, he did no real harm.

During the 1912 presidential contests, the Republican party suffered a schism, each side wanting the Republican tent to be a little smaller, excluding the other side. Conservatives were led by William Howard Taft, and moderates (known today as RINOs) were led by ex-President Theodore Roosevelt. When Taft won the nomination, Roosevelt bolted and formed the Bull Moose Party. Roosevelt was campaigning in Wisconsin when he was shot by our biblical scholar John Schrank. The bullet hit the text of Roosevelt’s speech, eliminating several dozen useless adjectives and other excess verbiage.

The speech was much improved and Roosevelt himself was unhurt. Schrank explained to authorities that he had nothing against Roosevelt as an individual; in fact he rather liked him. His quarrel was with ‘Roosevelt, the third-termer’ and was meant as a warning to any other politician who might seek a third term (take heed, Franklin). And not only that, shooting Roosevelt was not his own idea. The ghost of William McKinley made him do it. The ghost rose up right out of a coffin, pointed at a picture of Roosevelt and said: “Do it.”

Even with this quite splendid explanation, the authorities nonetheless sent Schrank away to a Wisconsin mental hospital where he remained until his death in 1943.

SEPTEMBER 2, 44 BC: O Tempora, O Mores

Posted on by Richard Daybell

Some 2,000 years give or take before our current leader (?) kicked up his first tweetstorm another statesman/orator/philosopher launched the Roman equivalent of a tweetstorm. On September 2, 44 BC, Marcus Tullius Cicero delivered the first of a series of speeches known as the Philippics (or Philippicae in Latin) hectoring his favorite enemy Mark Antony.

As every schoolchild knows, a group of unhappy Roman senators had removed Julius Caesar from office a year earlier. Cicero had not taken part in the affair, but he heartily approved of it. In a letter written afterward, he said: “How I wish that you had invited me to that most glorious banquet on the Ides of March!”
Cicero was not a fan of Caesar’s protege, Mark Antony, either. He was convinced that Antony was planning revenge upon the Ides gang. Cicero’s attacks on Antony rallied the Senate in his favor and established him as the leading politician of his age.

Antony did not take these insults lightly (Cicero had called him a sheep and said he had small hands). He and his supporters prepared to march on Rome and “lock him up, lock him up,” forcing Cicero to hit the road.  But to no avail; Cicero was intercepted and executed.

“O tempora! O mores!” (Oh what times. Oh what standards.)

O Tempora, O Swine

Another Cicero might be more familiar to a lot of us. That would be Cicero Pig, a diminutive version of his famous Uncle Porky. He first appeared in the cartoon “Porky’s Naughty Nephew” as a bit of a brat. He was called Pinky at the time, then Algernon, and finally Cicero. He never went by the name Marcus Tullius, and no one ever called Marcus Tullius Pinky — although Mark Antony probably would have had he thought of it.

Never try to teach a pig to sing; it wastes your time and it annoys the pig.  — Robert Heinlein

Carry a Big Shtick

Vice President Theodore Roosevelt was somewhat of an orator himself.  He delivered a speech at the Minnesota State Fair On September 2, 1901 in which he publicly used the phrase with which he would always be associated:  Speak softly and carry a big stick; you will go far.  Four days later, President William McKinley was shot by an assassin and following his death eight days later, Roosevelt became President.

My father always wanted to be the center of attention.  When he went to a wedding, he wanted to be the bridegroom.  When he went to a funeral, he wanted to be the corpse. — Alice Roosevelt Longworth