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Washington: a White House is not a home

Storyville, New Orleans - Bellocq

Let the poets pipe of love
in their childish ways
I know every type of love
better far than they.
If you want the thrill of love
I have been through the mill of love
old love
new love
every love but true love

“Love for Sale” – Cole Porter

A long time reader of mine asked me why I slam Obama so hard… and so often. Good question.

The answer lies, I think, in his barefaced use of purposefully vague language that links emotion to spirit for personal gain. He used words like “hope” and “change” and “we” too freely, he used these words intentionally to manipulate the emotions of people, especially young people, he did it to further his ambition. In the end his supporters were left with the words and Obama was left with the power.

Washington is a place where a lot of money changes hands, where decisions are taken that get people killed, where anyone looking for a friend is advised to buy a dog. Washington is a huge brothel like the legendary houses of New Orleans’ Storyville. A word, like “hope” in this context is used in exactly the same way as prostitutes use the word “love”… The words are sweet, but the eyes are cold and hard.

This is not to say that these establishments do not serve noble purposes on occasion. One of America’s greatest contributors to universal culture, Louis Armstrong, after whom New Orleans International Airport is named, earned his bread and cheese as a homeless waif delivering coal to these ladies. By patronizing genius, the Medicis earned immortality in similar fashion, but “love”, “hope”?

Certainly it was not impossible to experience truth and beauty in the houses of such as “Countess” Willie Piazza. You could of course… if the piano player was good enough. But anyone entering the premise in search of “love”, would certainly wake up with empty pockets, and an aching head.

And let he that is without sin cast the first stone. An old Spanish Communist once told me, “David, if all the sons of prostitutes that there are on this planet had wings and could fly, they would so cover the heavens that the rays of the sun would never touch the earth again and all life would be extinguished.”

Was it all worth it? Should we climb the stairs again with Obama? I suppose we should, if you think of the alternatives.

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David Seaton

David Seaton