The fourth name
Yes, this is personal. I am living in a time of fear of the fourth name. The fear I have, of the fourth name, is specific to me as a citizen of the United States living in a specific time and space. Young Americans, under age 40, won't feel the dread that follows me along this summer like an undercurrent of daily living, just as I am indifferent, relatively, to political assassinations (Caesar, Ferdinand, Lincoln, Garfield) occurring before my lifetime.
It affects the way I feel about hope. The morning after he secured the Democratic presidential nomination, Sen. Barack Obama started acting presidential. I believe that any proven leader on the globe today understands that Barack Obama is a leader. You can't fool leaders, with leadership-like behavior. That warms me with hope, and chills me with fear, because the leaders will break into two camps. Barack Obama is about to come under furious attack, from leaders who are also chilled with fear.
But furious attacks over the direction of leadership is not unique to my time and space. I do not fear the fourth name rising from the ranks of the leaders. I dread names that would otherwise spin anonymously, forever.
Obama published a book, "The Audacity of Hope." Ultimately, in his view, hope held up against chill can warm the atmosphere enough to bring the hopeful and the chilled together around the same leadership table, or the same kitchen table, so that Americans "are becoming more, not less, alike." Where do the Americans go from there? Towards united.
After the last seven years, hearing hope expressed thusly makes me feel downright toasty. Obama's confidence in that hope is not a plank in a platform, but a cornerstone in a foundation, I believe, that allows him to transition so smoothly from candidate into leader. It has had a democratizing effect. I am not going to vote on the bases of party, race, gender, or religion. I am going to vote on the basis of leadership, which happens to be available this time.
It makes me nervous. Americans living in my space and time are committed to living in an America whose history in our lifetimes has been edited by three names.
What would America be like, if John F. Kennedy were 91 years old this year? That reality is lost to us, because of a man's name, which, in that reality, would be unknown to us today.
What would America be like, if Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., were 79 years old this year? That reality is lost to us, because of a second name, which, in that reality, would be unknown to us today.
What would America be like, if Robert F. Kennedy were 82 years old this year? That reality is lost to us, because of a third name, which, in that reality, would be unknown to us today.
This week, 40 years to the week after Bobby Kennedy went down, Obama stepped so effortlessly into national leadership on a foundation – no longer a message – of hope. The media has already noted that the Democratic nominee's acceptance speech at the convention in August will be 40 years to the day after Dr. King's "I have a dream" speech. This is what America is like in the summer of 2008. A dream of hope. God, I hope. I'm not sure America can endure a fourth name, in one man's lifetime.
It affects the way I feel about hope. The morning after he secured the Democratic presidential nomination, Sen. Barack Obama started acting presidential. I believe that any proven leader on the globe today understands that Barack Obama is a leader. You can't fool leaders, with leadership-like behavior. That warms me with hope, and chills me with fear, because the leaders will break into two camps. Barack Obama is about to come under furious attack, from leaders who are also chilled with fear.
But furious attacks over the direction of leadership is not unique to my time and space. I do not fear the fourth name rising from the ranks of the leaders. I dread names that would otherwise spin anonymously, forever.
Obama published a book, "The Audacity of Hope." Ultimately, in his view, hope held up against chill can warm the atmosphere enough to bring the hopeful and the chilled together around the same leadership table, or the same kitchen table, so that Americans "are becoming more, not less, alike." Where do the Americans go from there? Towards united.
After the last seven years, hearing hope expressed thusly makes me feel downright toasty. Obama's confidence in that hope is not a plank in a platform, but a cornerstone in a foundation, I believe, that allows him to transition so smoothly from candidate into leader. It has had a democratizing effect. I am not going to vote on the bases of party, race, gender, or religion. I am going to vote on the basis of leadership, which happens to be available this time.
It makes me nervous. Americans living in my space and time are committed to living in an America whose history in our lifetimes has been edited by three names.
What would America be like, if John F. Kennedy were 91 years old this year? That reality is lost to us, because of a man's name, which, in that reality, would be unknown to us today.
What would America be like, if Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., were 79 years old this year? That reality is lost to us, because of a second name, which, in that reality, would be unknown to us today.
What would America be like, if Robert F. Kennedy were 82 years old this year? That reality is lost to us, because of a third name, which, in that reality, would be unknown to us today.
This week, 40 years to the week after Bobby Kennedy went down, Obama stepped so effortlessly into national leadership on a foundation – no longer a message – of hope. The media has already noted that the Democratic nominee's acceptance speech at the convention in August will be 40 years to the day after Dr. King's "I have a dream" speech. This is what America is like in the summer of 2008. A dream of hope. God, I hope. I'm not sure America can endure a fourth name, in one man's lifetime.
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