Tuesday, January 31, 2006

My best to Mr. Spencer

It started in 1999, but for some reason I didn't catch on until mid 2005 just how great the show was. I can only surmise that I wasn't very political during my middle years at highschool and therefore hated political shows. Makes perfect sense...but I was missing out on the drama, the sharp, whitty dialogue, and the memorable characters.

However, I was soon sent down the right path by my roommate, who had become engrossed in the show during the previous months leading up to the beginning of my own addiction. Once, upon finishing a cliff-hanger of a season finale, I actually witnessed him foaming at the month while frantically searching for a rental store that had Season two of the West Wing in stock, and that would be open at 1 am.

While his target remained out of reach that night, as dusk turned to early dawn, he eventually watched the series up to the point where it was airing on NBC. In May he went home to work, while I stayed here in Ottawa, with little to do after work during the week. So, one hot night, since I didn't feel like moving and the seasons were directly in front of me...I watched the first episode. That turned into watching the first disc, which then snowballed into watching the first season in two nights.

I didn't get much sleep, but I didn't care because I was living out those hours with smart, animated characters, albeit fictional, but nonetheless worth watching. And over the course of my nightly West Wing feasts, I began to look up to one character in particular. He always knew what to say, but didn't live in an ivory tower...

This person my friends, was Leo McGarry, the man behind the man. For those casual glancers, he was a meek old man in a suit, but for those who knew him and loved him, he was a brillant political mind with the heart of a lion. He scarificed his marriage for the job of Chief of Staff, and on most nights, many hours of sleep. On-lookers watched in awe as he helped mold the plot to assassinate Defense Minister Shariff of Qumar, and we winced when he suffered a heart attack that rendered him unable to continue as President Bartlett's COS.

He would not stay down however, the end of season six saw him rally to become the Democratic candidate for Vice-President, sharing the ticket with Congressman Matt Santos. Currently, the seventh season is heating up with new edge-of-your-seat, hightly political shows, as the plot jobs back and forth from the White House, to the campaigne trail. The highs, the lows, we have been taken on quite a ride thusfar.

I take this time to thank the man that gave Leo McGarry depth and illuminated him in ways no other actor could. On December 16, 2005, actor John Spencer was taken from the world by a heart attack.

His face will be missed. His skill will be admired. Whenever Leo McGarry's name is mentioned on the show until series' end, we will remember with heavy hearts, the name that gave him life.

My best to Mr. Spencer...

Sunday, January 29, 2006

A lover's quarrel with the world.

Less than a month before his assassination President Kennedy gave a speech at Amherst College in honor of the late poet Robert Frost.

The Purpose of Poetry- by John F. Kennedy

A nation reveals itself not only by the men it produces but also by the men it honors, the men it remembers...

The men who create power make an indispensable contribution to the nation's greatness, but the men who question power make a contribution just as indispensable, especially when that questioning is disinterested, for they determine whether we use power, or power uses us...

When power leads man toward arrogance, poerty reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows then areas of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of his existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses, for art establishes the basic human truths which must serve as the touchstones of our judgment. The artist, however faithful to his personal vision of reality, becomes the last champion of the individual mind and sensibility against an intrusive society and an officious state. The great artist is a solitary figure. He has, as Frost said, "a lover's quarrel with the world." In pursuing his perceptions of reality he must often sail against the currents of time.

If sometimes our great artists have been the most critical of our society, it is because their sensitivity and their concern for justice, which must motivate any true artist, makes them aware that our nation falls short of its highest potential.

I see little of more importance to the future of our country and our civilization than full recognition of the place of the artist. If art is to nourish the roots of our culture, society must set the artist free to follow his vision wherever it takes him...

In free society art is not a weapon, and it does not belong to the sphere of polemics and ideology. Artists are not engineers of the soul. It may be different elsewhere. But in a democratic society the highest duty of the writer, the composer, the artist, is to remain true to himself and to let the chips fall where they may. In serving his vision of the truth, the artist best serves his nation.

- JFK, 1963

Friday, January 27, 2006

Remember me

Remember me as I am,
my image etched in stone,
outlining the vast caves of your memory.

Remember love's warm embrace
on harsh winter nights.
Remember soft, gentle whispers,
and the lies you let slip by.

Let not one night's trechery
ruin a life's accumulation of love.
Remember me for my ambition,
for the things I cannot say,
for the plan I cannot write down.

Remember me in triumphant glory,
lest I should wallow in defeat.
For the love we shared,
I did not die alone.

Forever shall I be comforted
by the memory of your face,
looking back at me,
as I faded away.