Molly Ivins died today. And I feel as though I have lost a dear friend. I have long been an admirer of my fellow Smith College alumnus. (I actually saw her speak there in 1996.) Her ability to speak out against injustice and indecency and incompetence with wry wit and keen insight made her one of a kind. Her voice will be sorely missed. The best tribute I can think to offer her is to heed the advice she offered in her final column:
We are the people who run this country. We are the deciders. And every single day, every single one of us needs to step outside and take some action to help stop this war. Raise hell. Think of something to make the ridiculous look ridiculous. Make our troops know we’re for them and trying to get them out of there. [full text]
Rest in peace, dear Molly. May we all soon find peace.
And now, with apologies to W.H. Auden for modifying his verse a bit:
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone.
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message She is Dead,
Put crÃ©pe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
She was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song,
I thought her voice would last forever: ‘I was wrong’
The stars are not wanted now, put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.