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Jewish World Review April 14, 2005 / 5 Nisan, 5765 Delta Alpha Pie By Jay D. Homnick
http://www.JewishWorldReview.com |
The late great Canadian comedy team of Wayne and Shuster had a skit called
"Wipe The Blood Off My Toga" whose main character was Flavius Maximus, Roman
detective. In one scene, Flavius enters a bar and orders a martinus. The
bartender asks: "Don't you mean a martini?" Flavius responds: "If I wanted
two, I would have ordered two." Well, in that vein, if Rome is the father
of the modern university, then William Kristol and David Horowitz received a
lesson in Roman pluralism: a pie in the puss. In the span of a few days,
Kristol was pasted by pastry in Earlham College, while Horowitz was caked
with cake at Butler.
If this has become a tony feature of modern campus dialogue, the
professoriat must be a phoney teacher. (New punchline for Ronald Reagan?
"There must be a phoney somewhere.") The main course of academic freedom
should be discourse, not dessert. Which in turn brings us to the question
of best course: how should the lecturer react when pied? Pipe down and
march off? Desert the stage? Or take one's licks with a smile and carry
on?
Actually, Kristol and Horowitz modeled two divergent approaches to this
scenario. Bill gave his familiar grin and continued gamely to make his
point. David was indignant and his supporters began pushing and shoving the
attackers. The perpetrators got away and are being sought (hint: the Butler
did it). And Horowitz was fulminating on Hannity's shows a day later that
he wanted assault charges preferred.
So Horowitz cussed hard at his pie, and he is certainly well within his
rights. Clearly, he believes that conservatives should not be cheery
lemmings walking into the onslaught of pied-a-terrorism. Nor can anyone
fault him for protesting against batter being baked into battery, and
demanding some legal relief (torte reform, anyone?). Yet his reaction is
not to my liking. I feel bad that they got stuff on his shirt and all, but
as justified as his plaint might be, it still leaves him looking like a
stuffed shirt. After all, if this was really Rome, he would be picking pike
rust out of a mortal wound, not pie crust off his starched collar.
Now Kristol: he's my hero. Instead of a chance to sue, he shows
insouciance. He may have forgotten to duck but he still keeps his ducks in
a row and hits all his lecture points. Just because some Commie fought ill
is no reason for him to stop being comme il faut. Let it never be said that
Conservatives hit by pie are square; Kristol radiated as Sir Confidence. He
showed 'em what cool is all about, by not allowing the patisserie to ignite
his rotisserie.
The greatest instance of self-possession in a public situation in the
modern era was demonstrated by none other than the great Ronald Wilson
Reagan. He was attending an event and sitting on the dais while the
industrialist, W. R. Grace, was holding forth upon the evils of abortion.
Grace was trying to make the point that every person was once a fetus and
could theoretically have been aborted. Somehow, he became confused and
accidentally said "feces" instead of "fetus". This was repeated numerous
times as he explained that we were all once a feces and that feces produced
the men that we are today. The entire room was in giggle mode except
Reagan, who kept his composure throughout, with an attentive look on his
face as he listened to the address.
Eventually, reporters began to believe that Reagan must not have noticed.
He must have had his mind on other things while he put on that interested
expression for the camera. So afterward they crowded around him to ask how
he enjoyed Grace's speech. "It was excellent," he said, grinning.
"Although the feces really was hitting the fan there for awhile."
There is room to show class in the lecture hall. Horowitz is right that
hurling pies is wrong: it goes against the grain, it is assault. Still,
taking it with a grain of salt seems to be the ideal course. Boys will be
boys, but men should be men. The show must go on. Neither rain nor snow
nor sleet nor hail nor pumpkin nor meringue will keep us from our appointed
rounds. Speak softly despite carrying a big stickiness. Think global and
ignore the glob. Be a man for all seasoning and give us your reasoning.
This is the Code of the Woosters, and it achieves the goal of gaining the
respect of the opposition, albeit grudgingly.
You brazen it out, you weather the storm, even with your guts churning
madly within. If you need a break afterwards, go ahead and treat yourself.
You deserve it: you were shaken but not stirred. Go and order yourself a
martinus. Or two.
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JWR contributor Jay D. Homnick is the author of many books and essays on Jewish political and religious affairs. Comment by clicking here. © 2005, Jay D. Homnick |
Arnold Ahlert | |||||||||||
