Bachmann's supporters attempt to rewrite history

Wikipedia page edited to make John Quincy Adams a "founding father".

Michelle Bachmann's recent pronouncements have led some to suggest that her grasp of history is as shaky as Sarah Palin's. According to the Republican candidate, the founding fathers worked "tirelessly to end slavery". Asked earlier today on Good Morning America to justify this claim, Bachmann cited the example of John Quincy Adams.

Unfortunately for Bachmann, Adams (born 11 July 1767) was only eight years old when the Declaration of Independence was signed by figures including his father, John Adams, on 4 July 1776. But when corrected on this point by host George Stephanopoulos, Bachmann refused to concede. Here's the key exchange:

Bachmann: Well if you look at one of our Founding Fathers, John Quincy Adams, that's absolutely true. He was a very young boy when he was with his father serving essentially as his father's secretary. He tirelessly worked throughout his life to make sure that we did in fact one day eradicate slavery....

Stephanopoulos: He wasn't one of the Founding Fathers - he was a president, he was a Secretary of State, he was a member of Congress, you're right he did work to end slavery decades later. But so you are standing by this comment that the Founding Fathers worked tirelessly to end slavery?

Bachmann: Well, John Quincy Adams most certainly was a part of the Revolutionary War era. He was a young boy but he was actively involved.

Soon afterwards, John Qunicy Adams's Wikipedia page (see below, click to enlarge) was edited to falsely state that he was a "founding father". Bachmann's supporters, it appears, have been attempting to rewrite history.

Bachmann's keyboard warriors attempt to re-write history - on Wikipedia. 

Hat-tip: Addicting Info.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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Upon Remembering Westminster Bridge

"Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie, Open unto the fields, and to the sky" - things to help remember the best of Westminster Bridge.

Earth has not anything to show more fair:
Dull would he be of soul who could pass by,
 A sight so touching in its majesty:
This city now doth, like a garment, wear
The beauty of the morning: silent, bare ...

When I think of Westminster Bridge, I always think of these lines by Wordsworth. But whenever I turn on the news this week, the thought of them makes my chest seize. Other images come to mind instead.

On Wednesday 22nd March, the bridge turned into death trap. An assailant driving a rented car drove up onto the pavement and into straight into path of passersbys. Four of those people are now dead. Tens of others are severely injured. 

The two associations now sit alongside each other in a grotesque marriage. 

But as those present become able to share what they saw and felt, we will likely learn more about the acts of compassion that unfolded in the minutes and hours after the attack.

The bridge itself is also becoming a site for remembrance. And just as laying flowers can become marks of defiance against an act nobody wanted or condones, so too can memories. Not memories of horror stumbled upon on social media. But of the brave actions of police and paramedics, of the lives the victims led, and of Westminster's "mighty heart" that these events have so entirely failed to crush.

So if you find yourself upon the bridge in coming weeks, perhaps commuting to work or showing visitors round the city, here are some other thoughts had upon Westminster Bridge which no man in an estate car will ever take away:

Tourists taking photos with friends:


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The end of the film Pride - and the 1985 march on which it is based

 

Virginia Woolf and Mrs Dalloway’s “moment in June”

One feels even in the midst of the traffic, or waking at night, Clarissa was positive, a particular hush, or solemnity; an indescribable pause; a suspense before Big Ben strikes. There! Out it boomed. First a warning, musical; then the hour, irrevocable. The leaden circles dissolved in the air. Such fools we are, she thought, crossing Victoria Street. For Heaven only knows why one loves it so, how one sees it so, making it up, building it round one, tumbling it, creating it every moment afresh; but the veriest frumps, the most dejected of miseries sitting on doorsteps (drink their downfall) do the same; can't be dealt with, she felt positive, by Acts of Parliament for that very reason: they love life. In people's eyes, in the swing, tramp, and trudge; in the bellow and the uproar; the carriages, motor cars, omnibuses, vans, sandwich men shuffling and swinging; brass bands; barrel organs; in the triumph and the jingle and the strange high singing of some aeroplane overhead was what she loved; life; London; this moment in June.

 

Brilliant Boudicca guarding the bridge's Northern end


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Penis Shadows! (I say no more)

 

 

Sci-fi scenes from 28 Days Later

 

The “Build Bridges Not Walls” protest from January this year


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And “Upon Westminster Bridge” by William Wordsworth (1802)

Earth has not anything to show more fair:
Dull would he be of soul who could pass by
A sight so touching in its majesty:
This City now doth, like a garment, wear

The beauty of the morning: silent, bare,
Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie
Open unto the fields, and to the sky;
All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.

Never did sun more beautifully steep
In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill;
Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!

The river glideth at his own sweet will:
Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;
And all that mighty heart is lying still!

India Bourke is an environment writer and editorial assistant at the New Statesman.