Mitt Romney matters. Barack Obama matters. Antonin Scalia matters. John Boehner matters. Elizabeth Warren may matter. Dick Lugar no longer matters.
Mahmoud Ahmadinejad matters. Benjamin Netanyahu matters. Hillary Clinton matters. Ayman al-Zawahri may matter. Osama bin Laden no longer matters.
Beyonce matters. Jennifer Lopez matters. Prince William matters. George Clooney may matter. Andy Rooney no longer matters.
Your iPhone matters. Google matters. Facebook matters. Kodak no longer matters.
Matthew 7:12 matters. Aung San Suu Kyi matters. Ghandi matters — “Through our pain we will make them see their injustice.” Bill Gates matters. The Pope no longer matters.
Dark energy matters. Dark matter matters. Quantum entanglement matters, especially to Alice and Bob. Albert Einstein may still matter. Cold fusion no longer matters.
I may not matter. You don’t matter. He and she (and it) don’t matter. We don’t matter. You still don’t matter. They never did matter.
Back in the 60’s, I worked for a newspaper called the “Hurricane Courier”. Hours were good but the pay was lousy. Not only was I never paid (it was a high-school rag, after all) but, pouring insult onto injury, I wound up getting myself fired. I am the only high-school newspaper writer ever fired. (If you don’t think so, find another one.)
The Hurricane Courier’s rather immodest tagline: “Something Dramatic in Journalism.” But most of the drama surrounding the newspaper was never reported. You see, at the same time I wrote for the newspaper, I had also been writing and passing around an “underground magazine” that made juvenile fun of high-school institutions, including the hapless Courier. The cover title for one of the issues: “Something or Other in Journalism.” Larry Davis, my good friend and editor of the Courier, loved it.
It was a few weeks later that the newspaper faculty advisor, Mr. Pat Panella, caught one of the issues of my magazine in circulation and kicked me off the newspaper staff.
Larry and I haven’t corresponded since our college days. Larry, maybe someday you will google “Hurricane Courier” and discover this little essay and get in touch. Or maybe not.