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Tuesday, November 02, 2010

Torn Between Irony and Earnestness

This will probably be my only election post this cycle. (Though if Harry Reid goes down in Nevada tonight, I may have to write up a farewell.) In election years past, I've usually written a fair amount, sometimes a great amount. Not this time. Partly it's because I have a big paper due for a conference in Hong Kong only a month from now, and I need to use my spare time working on it. Partly it's my usual busyness and whatnot. But partly it's also because I feel stuck between two poses at this moment, between raising angrily raising a fist on the one hand and sighing and shrugging my shoulders on the other.

In the latter case, John Stewart has already made the point very, very well.



"If we amplify everything, we hear nothing." That is, very simply, about as wise and as reasonable and as correct a bit of political and media criticism as you're every likely to hear. A tremendous amount of the hostility and frustration in American public life is due to a media culture (though not just the media culture; the legal culture has a great deal to do with it as well) which is driven--by economics, by popular expectations--to make almost everything into a huge deal. Well, everything is not everything is a huge deal. "Hard times, not end times," indeed.

A lot of folks I know and respect and follow online loved the event. They loved the fact that it gave them occasion to feel hopeful and affirmative in the midst of their ordinary (mostly white, mostly suburban, mostly educated, mostly middle or upper-middle class, mostly secular, mostly liberal) lives. That's no small thing, particularly in an election cycle dominated by rhetoric that has often seemed downright apocalyptic and illiberal. (Though see here for a smart bit of counter-evidence to that idea.) From a distant remove--both spatially, since I'm in Kansas, and ideologically, since I'm a religious believer who votes liberal mainly because there aren't any socialists on the ballot--I felt the pull of the "restore sanity" ideal myself. Because I know--and don't mind at all being validated in my knowledge!--that mostly people of goodwill do overcome their differences, and do get things done. That's the tolerant, hopeful side of my self, and Stewart spoke to it well.

And yet, I also wondered...so, just what is it, exactly, that we "get done"? Which is why I also felt the power of this:

Civility is a fine and pleasant thing, but it has never inspired a serious political or social movement--or revived the fortunes of a president. Irony and satire can be potent modes of persuasion, but what do Stewart and Colbert’s liberal supporters want to persuade their fellow Americans to actually think or do? ....People need to engage in the political process to reform and push it forward, not agree that we’re all more reasonable than the media portray us and promise to behave civilly. Like it or not, America remains a nation of true believers. Secular liberals with a decent sense of humor will have to learn, or relearn, how to adapt to that reality and turn it to their advantage. Or they can just pick up their remotes and watch Comedy Central.

I wasn't alone in feeling this vibe, the sense that the rally captured not so much the fact that hundreds of thousands of people had something to say, but rather that hundreds of thousands of people were looking for someone to complete their sentences for them. Laura McKenna, who is many ways is part of Stewart's perfect target demographic, thought the whole thing sounded boring. Peter Beinart rightly observed that in presenting "sanity" in opposition to the determined (and, admittedly, sometimes hysterical) focus of the Tea Party was condescending in the extreme. Even those who were there, and liked being part of it, couldn't deny that the whole feeling was "post-institutional," appealing primarily to people who "never quite fit anywhere, or they never wanted to"--which is almost the very definition of turning aside from the political part of life. Because politics, like it or not, is a communitarian endeavor.

Of course, one could also try to minimize or downplay that communitarian effort, and conceive of the public realm as a relatively small (and/or significantly privatized) arena, letting the rest of our busy, complex, pluralistic society and economy work itself out on an individualistic, case-by-case basis. My friend Nate Oman, a moderately libertarian type who believes that the market is a far more reliable producer of virtue than politics, saw his beliefs validated by Stewart's speech: the flow of traffic through a tunnel is, for him, just another sign that simple, ordinary human commerce is a "miracle of human cooperation." Except in cases of genuine wickedness and fraud, why turn to politics, when people going about their everyday business is so much more fulfilling?

In making his case for Stewart in these terms, Nate is actually touching on one of the oldest of all the perennial arguments on the left: what to do about the liberals? Because, from the point of view of "true believers" on the left side of the aisle--believers in regards to egalitarianism and populism and all that social justice jazz--we've always been, and probably always will be, outnumbered. On the right things are different; for a variety of what I think to be predominantly social-structural reasons, "true believers" of a conservative or traditionalist bent do better in regards to movements and coalitions in the United States than do progressives. (See here for the essential argument why.) And so what the leaves is a strange left-liberal conglomeration, which takes the form of an often uncomfortable, and frequently co-dependent, but only rarely outright antagonistic clump of fellow-travelers. Contemporary liberalism is, of course, occasionally quite egalitarian and/or populist and/or progressive...but mostly, at least as it is constructed by both its self-described adherents and its left-leaning opponents in its full cultural garb, liberalism is a home for the secular, mildly redistributivist, but mostly leave-me-alone-to-do-my-thing mainstream. Somewhat higher taxes for welfare and parks and public schools, sure, but anything more radical than that...well, we'd rather just get back to the suburbs, so please don't mind as we (cooperatively!) drive home.

When the left gets angry at liberals (calling them, as was the case in one wonderfully bitter intra-left squabble that I remember from 2005, "liberal sacks of garbage"), liberals respond by getting annoyed, as many defenders of Stewart are likely to get annoyed at this post, and others like it. They respond with mockery of the seriousness of their critics, and ask with all the irony they can muster: "exactly what else do you expect me to do?" This same debate is unwinding at Crooked Timber right now. And unfortunately for all of us whose sentiments catch us up in this dispute, all of us who have families and jobs and other matters that need tending to, but who also feel their beliefs pulling them in directions of a generally unpopular egalitarianism and communitarianism, the only two answers are 1) shrugging our shoulders, voting for whomever seems to make the best sense at any moment of time, and then getting back to our commute, looking forward to watching Comedy Central clips on the laptop later tonight, or 2) doing what George Scialabba emphasizes repeatedly in the CT thread: that after we do just what liberals do--namely, vote for whomever seems to make the best sense at any moment of time--we "work quite hard and steadily to organize structures of ongoing citizen participation." Which means we might have to put off or delay that commute some of the time.

Which is no problem for me, I guess; I ride a bike. Which I need to get on here soon; got to get the polls, and then to work. Vote well, everyone. And then, organize! I'll see you later, maybe.

Sunday, October 31, 2010

A Little Tam Lin for the Holiday, Please



An old, spooky, sexually ambiguous and seasonally appropriate Scottish ballad, as sung by Fairport Convention. Watch out for the faerie folk tonight, everybody. And happy Halloween! (For a more civic-minded approach to Halloween--an approach I heartily endorse--check out Tim Burke.)

I forbid you maidens all that wear gold in your hair
To travel to Carter Hall for young Tam Lin is there

None that go by Carter Hall but they leave him a pledge
Either their mantles of green or else their maidenhead

Janet tied her kirtle green a bit above her knee
And she's gone to Carter Hall as fast as go can she

She'd not pulled a double rose, a rose but only two
When up there came young Tam Lin says "Lady, pull no more"

"And why come you to Carter Hall without command from me?"
"I'll come and go", young Janet said, "and ask no leave of thee"

Janet tied her kirtle green a bit above her knee
And she's gone to her father as fast as go can she

Well, up then spoke her father dear and he spoke meek and mild
"Oh, and alas, Janet," he said, "I think you go with child"

"Well, if that be so," Janet said, "myself shall bear the blame
There's not a knight in all your hall shall get the baby's name

For if my love were an earthly knight as he is an elfin grey
I'd not change my own true love for any knight you have"

Janet tied her kirtle green a bit above her knee
And she's gone to Carter Hall as fast as go can she

"Oh, tell to me, Tam Lin," she said, "why came you here to dwell?"
"The Queen of Faeries caught me when from my horse I fell

And at the end of seven years she pays a tithe to hell
I so fair and full of flesh and feared it be myself

But tonight is Hallowe'en and the faery folk ride
Those that would their true love win at Miles Cross they must buy

So first let past the horses black and then let past the brown
Quickly run to the white steed and pull the rider down

For I'll ride on the white steed, the nearest to the town
For I was an earthly knight, they give me that renown

Oh, they will turn me in your arms to a newt or a snake
But hold me tight and fear not, I am your baby's father

And they will turn me in your arms into a lion bold
But hold me tight and fear not and you will love your child

And they will turn me in your arms into a naked knight
But cloak me in your mantle and keep me out of sight"

In the middle of the night she heard the bridle ring
She heeded what he did say and young Tam Lin did win

Then up spoke the Faery Queen, an angry queen was she
Woe betide her ill-fought face, an ill death may she die

"Oh, had I known, Tam Lin," she said, "what this knight I did see
I have looked him in the eyes and turned him to a tree"

Friday, October 29, 2010

Friday Morning Videos: "Rock With You"

Last year, it was Michael Jackson's most outrageous, most ostentatious (and, in retrospect, considering what happened became of his career afterward, most ominous) video production. This year, let's go with something closer to his original charm.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

I'm Less Than 30% Elitist! (How About You?)

Via the wonderful Camassia, I learn that Charles Murray is warning us all about the new elitists out there, and that one helpful blogger has turned his warnings into a handy quiz. Let's take it, shall we?

Q. Can you talk about "Mad Men?" A. I know the name of the main character, and I know it takes place in New York in the early 60s. That's about it, so "No."
Q. Can you talk about the "The Sopranos?" A. Again, I can name the main character, and I know it takes place in present-day New Jersey. So again, "No."
Q. Do you know who replaced Bob Barker on "The Price Is Right?" A. Oh come on, ask something hard.
Q. Have you watched an Oprah show from beginning to end? A. Never once.
Q. Can you hold forth animatedly about yoga? A. I've learned a couple of positions from my wife, who is passionate about it and takes local classes our YMCA, but really, the answer is "No."
Q. How about pilates? A. Also no.
Q. How about skiing? A. Nope.
Q. Mountain biking? A. No. Street bike racing or bicycle commuting though, I can definitely hold my own
Q. Do you know who Jimmie Johnson is? A. No.
Q. Does the acronym MMA mean anything to you? A. No.
Q. Can you talk about books endlessly? A. Absolutely.
Q. Have you ever read a "Left Behind" novel? A. No.
Q. How about a Harlequin romance? A. I'm not sure. I was fourteen or fifteen, and the main character was a woman whose husband didn't understand her, and there was plenty of panting and heaving breasts. I bet that counts as a "Yes."
Q. Do you take interesting vacations? A. Well, I think they're often interesting, because I find my colleagues and family and friends--in Washington DC or Kansas City or Dallas or Portland or Salt Lake City or Seattle or St. Louis interesting. I kind of suspect that the answers Charles Murray is looking for would oblige me to answer "No," however.
Q. Do you know a great backpacking spot in the Sierra Nevada? A. I've only ever driven through them.
Q. What about an exquisite B&B overlooking Boothbay Harbor? I had to Google "Boothbay Harbor" to find out where that was.
Q. Would you be caught dead in an RV? A. I'd rather not die in one, but while growing up our family traveled in ours all over the country. Does that count?
Q. Would you be caught dead on a cruise ship? A. Melissa and I took one cruise back in 1997, when the family business was doing pretty well and my parents sprang for a trip for their married children, but to be honest, it really wasn't our cup of tea. The whole experience seemed like a conspiracy to keep us eating and buying tourist crap, and we never spent a decent amount of time in any port; however can you explore the art galleries in St. Maarten if you have to be back on the ship by 2pm? So basically, I'll have to answer "No" to this one.
Q. Have you ever heard of of Branson, Mo? A. Oh give me a break. We lived in Arkansas, dude; we took the kids to Silver Dollar City and spent a couple of days in Branson. Still have a t-shirt from there too.
Q. Have you ever attended a meeting of a Kiwanis Club? A. No.
Q. How about the Rotary Club? A. No.
Q. Have you lived for at least a year in a small town? A. How small? We spent two years spent in towns of under 10,000 in Mississippi and Illinois, and three years in a town of 50,000 in Arkansas. And now we live in Kansas. By the measurements of many of my students here, we still have never lived in a truly "small town."
Q. Have you lived for a year in an urban neighborhood in which most of your neighbors did not have college degrees? A. If the inner suburbs of Wichita count as an "urban neighborhood," then yes, we've spent the last five years living in exactly such a place.
Q. Have you spent at least a year with a family income less than twice the poverty line? A. Oh don't get me started.
Q. Do you have a close friend who is an evangelical Christian? A. Several.
Q. Have you ever visited a factory floor? Yes.
Q. Have you worked on one? A. If a chicken-processing plant counts, then the answer is "Yes."

I suppose Murray might want to dispute some of my answers, but by the strictest reading of the quiz, I give only 8 "elistist" answers out of 27, meaning I am less than 30% out of touch with the common man. I knew it! I am, to quote Murray, not only someone who loves my country, but I am (or at least 70% of me is) "of it" as well.

There is, of course, a serious point to speculations about elitism; I wouldn't be so fond of populism if I didn't think so. But Murray is, by and large, just riffing off the complaints of the Tea Party and bunch of half-baked generalizations that, were they really thought through seriously (such as: "What are the cultural consequences of global capitalism's undermining of the options for social advancement which blue-collar factory jobs once provided for the urban working class?") could be part of strong critique of America's religiously and regionally stratified society...but in his hands, barely amount to more than what you might see in one of David Brooks's weaker columns. ("This just in: Harvard graduates are woefully uninformed about Carrie Underwood's dating habits.") The truth is, of course, that I'm a member of the "elite," as almost any member of the academy invariably is, and yet I can pass his quiz with (mostly) flying colors. If nothing else, that ought to be proof to him that whatever the real force of the confusions and animosities which have helped make the Tea Party possible, using their lazy rhetoric as about who the "real Americans" are as a guide for thinking about elitism in America today is a less than brilliant idea.

Monday, October 25, 2010

Friday, October 22, 2010

If There Was Ever a Good Reminder of the Necessity of the Serial Comma, This is It



Merle Haggard, once married to Robert Duvall and Kris Kristofferson? The mind reels. Someone teach our copy editors some grammar, please.

(Hat tip: Patrick Nielsen Hayden and Aeon Skoble)

Friday Morning Videos: "Land of Confusion"

Last year, it was when Genesis was just breaking into mainstream pop. This year, it's when they dominated it.



Great, cruel, sophomoric, vicious stuff. You all remember Spitting Image, right? No? Well, you probably don't remember Max Headroom either.

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Kristen's Favorite Sesame Street Skits

This new Sesame Street number from a few weeks ago has been making the rounds on the internet, and I have to admit, it's a catchy tune, and it says something worth saying as well. But as our youngest daughter, Kristen, is a four-year-old Caucasian with dishwater blond hair, it's not a skit that especially pulled her in when I showed it to her. She was more interested in some classic Sesame Street Muppet bits, which I was more than happy to show her. Pretty quickly, we developing a bit of ranking, based on how completely the bit in question sent her into paroxysms of laughter on the floor.

Number #5: Put Down the Duckie.



(Wasn't there also a version of this with Gladys Knight and the Pips?)

Number #4: C is for Cookie



(For some reason, she found the vague background monster chorus in this bit absolutely hilarious.)

Number #3: Rubber Duckie



(The classic. Kristen pointed out to me that she owns many small duckies, rather than just one large one.

Number #2: Cooperating with the Count



(As soon as the Count appeared, Kristen identified him as a vampire. Apparently the mass media has done its job well.)

Number #1: The Alphabet



(We're probably never going to be able to practice the alphabet again.)

As Goes Reid, So Goes America (Maybe, Unfortunately)

[Cross-posted to Front Porch Republic]

Some excellent reporting, and thinking, on display in Nicholas Lemann's long profile of the Reid-Angle showdown in the latest New Yorker. Lemann has some sharp and funny things to say about Sharron Angle, but mostly his piece is a close and, it must be said, often uncomplimentary study of Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid. Lemann's admiration for Reid's politics is undeniable, but Lemann himself also can't deny just how thoroughly Reid embodies a particularly simple and unsophisticated--even, shall we say, rather vulgar--old-school redistributive liberal politics. He lays out story after story of Reid's famously, even notoriously, hard-scrabble upbringing and personality--raised by a couple of borderline-abusive drunks in an isolated Nevada mining town, hunting for rabbits to meat on the table, starting fistfights with other kids, his father, and his future father-in-law--as well as the roots of his often resentful toughness and thoroughness--the law school dean who told him to give up and drop out, his rough confrontations with gaming officials at the start of his political career--and the conclusion is inescapable: to a degree, Reid exemplifies the outlook of a certain set of poor, rural, pseudo-populist, contemptuous-of-easy-wealth, lacking-in-sensitivity (and how!), unapologetic boot-strap climbers that helped give us FDR and the New Deal (as well as, in Louisiana, Huey "Every Man a King" Long). Lemann sums up:

[Reid] took personal umbrage at George W. Bush. “I have made no secret of my antipathy toward the second President Bush...an ideologue who has done incalculable damage to the government, reputation, and moral standing of the United States of America”....Late in his Presidency, Bush summoned Reid to the White House and tried to appease him. “I never went to Kennebunkport as a kid,” Reid recalls. “I never went anywhere. And I’ve got no blue blood in my veins, just some desert sand. So as he and I sat there in the Oval Office, I said little in return.”

Other than a few close relationships, like the ones with his wife, Landra, and with Mike O’Callaghan, what most reliably draws warmth from Reid’s tempered-steel heart is New Deal liberalism. He likes to say that his parents’ religion was Franklin D. Roosevelt; practically the only good thing that ever happened in the life of his father was joining a union. “The American government is the greatest force for good in the history of mankind”; Social Security is “the greatest social program since the fishes and loaves.” Sig Rogich, a Nevada adman who worked in George H. W. Bush’s White House, and who, like most establishment Republicans in Nevada, is backing Reid over Sharron Angle, told me that during many evenings at his house he and Reid have relaxed to old Woody Guthrie songs on the CD player—“poignant songs about society and the poor.”


I have no idea if I'd like Reid in person, and I kind doubt he'd like me; I'd be too soft for him, and it doesn't seem like he has room in his life for a great many friends anyway. But I basically support him. Part of the reason for that is simply tribal, but not all of it. There's also the thankless (and sometimes nigh-incomprehensibly contorted) process of getting health care reform through our dysfunctional Senate. Actually, I suppose, the two are tied together--I happen to believe that efforts of make at least some minimal health care coverage more broadly available (which, whatever my many complaints with it, the Affordable Care Act does accomplish) is a religious duty, a duty which Reid faithfully performed. But there is, to my mind, a great misfortune in all of this, one which Reid also exemplifies quite well. The health care reform debate, to my mind, offered the opportunity of a serious engagement with the particulars of our state and corporate capitalist system--an opportunity for us to really ask ourselves what should be handled socially and what should be handled privately, and what forms of public and private associations could handle such things, and what level of public handling (local or state or national) would best. And of course, we didn't get anything like that, or hardly did. The Obama administration never truly pushed for a public option, or really any kind of single-payer plan; private insurers and other corporate interests were compromised with from the start; the democratization or diversification of health care coverage was never as important as streamlining the bottom-line--and, of course, such overriding cost-controls are always best done in a top-down way, or so our managerial culture assures us. And so health care, like financial reform, like so much else, becomes boiled down in our national political debates to a crummy either-or choice: either centralized regulation and provision to supplement and restrict (but never truly challenge) the market, or the cutting-back on or outright abandonment of regulation and provision entirely (leaving the market free to spread its opportunities around, at least insofar as the powerful corporate players in the market allow it to, which they usually don't).

Reid, I strongly suspect, sees nothing wrong with this choice whatsoever; he's on the liberal side, and that's good enough for him. And to be sure, when times are good and the market is booming, that's good enough for plenty of his fellow citizens as well. But times aren't always good--and it is especially when they aren't that one really poignantly wishes that someone had some other way of approaching social problems in their repertoire. Lemann doesn't share this wishing, I believe...but I think it comes out, all the same, in his conclusion:

Recessions weren’t supposed to happen in Las Vegas; even the September 11th attacks created just a brief downward blip. Over twenty years, Las Vegas became the conspicuous-consumption capital of the world. Then, beginning in 2007, and escalating in 2008 and 2009, Nevada went spectacularly bust. Last year, the state lost population for the first time since the Great Depression....Reid reacted to the bust just as you would expect. He helped extend unemployment benefits, gave special aid to schools so they wouldn’t have to lay off teachers, secured money for potentially job-rich alternative-energy projects in the desert, and funded foreclosure-prevention counselling. One of the less nationally heralded pieces of Obama Administration legislation was the Travel Promotion Act of 2009, which creates a publicly funded vehicle to advertise abroad for tourism to American destinations, such as Las Vegas. Reid made that happen....

People go to Nevada to loosen the bonds of traditional society and try something new. What has happened there over the past twenty years is a particularly American version of the economic cycle. European governments get into trouble by overloading on pensions and other expensive benefits; American governments get into trouble by practicing a kind of casino liberalism, in which credit flows too easily, everybody goes too deeply into debt, and if the growth ever stops, everything crashes. Now Nevadans are being presented with a great clash of social visions: help from Washington with Reid versus less of Washington with Angle. The stakes are real, not rhetorical. Reid’s reĆ«lection campaign is about the role of government in the United States. Obama’s reĆ«lection campaign will be about that, too.


If I could really believe that the last two years had led people to maybe, just maybe, actually rethink what it means to create the conditions for "casino liberalism," and perhaps come up with alternatives to it, then this election would excite me. But it doesn't. The options for rethinking our state and corporate-dominated liberal capitalist economy--whether distributist-localist or socialist-anarchist--are out there...but from what I can tell, the Tea Parties aren't talking about them, and the Democrats sure aren't either. Instead, it's "protect Social Security and Medicare!" on one side, and "Repeal Obamacare (but leave Social Security and Medicare alone)!" on the other, as if those were really the most meaningful constitutional issues which the past two years have provided for us. But such appears to be our fate.

Lemann sees the the Reid-Angle contest as a thoroughly national one; a referendum on the Obama administration. George Will says the same thing about the West Virginia senate race; E.J. Dionne says the same about House races in Ohio. It's the same all over. No doubt some people are terribly excited about what will happen in voting booths all across the country in twelve days, but I don't think there's much basis for that excitement. Patrick Deneen said it well:

Anti-Washington fever will rise to dizzying heights in coming days. The chattering classes will conclude that Americans have a firm idea of their destiny, choosing one party over another in coming days. Few will understand that the source of our loathing will be the division within ourselves. The divided government we will embrace is the division in our souls: two versions of democracy. In the one version, democracy is rugged individualism. In the other, democracy is a gentler concern that no one should be left behind. Both are fantasies born of bad modern anthropology.

I want to pursue ends towards which a different anthropology might direct us. But with parties led by people--good people, no doubt, who come to their positions honestly, whatever we may think of the history or personality by which those decisions were made--we have the option of retreating, or fighting. Retreating has some real appeal to it, even if such a lack of civic concern probably isn't very healthy in the long run. But for those of us, for whatever reason, unwilling to retreat, there are the choices before us, and all the usual political calculations. If I were in Nevada, my calculations would lead me to Reid. Maybe. Unfortunately.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Simply Stunning

So I'm sitting here grading midterms and papers, and I need some background music. I start playing around with the beautiful, addictive plaything called the internet, then start getting specific: I want some jazz. No, some classic jazz. Pre-bebop and pre-cool classic jazz. Pre-bebop and pre-cool classic piano jazz. Which basically means, I want to hear some Oscar Peterson, some Fats Waller...and really, ultimately, some Art Tatum, arguably the greatest stride and jazz pianist of all time. And look what I managed to find?



His Tiger Rag is even better. Pure, effortless, amazing genius. Wish grading papers could come so easily.