Showing posts with label Opinions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Opinions. Show all posts
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Nightmare
Lord, how many times have I had this dream - even recently! And I'm always back at VMI, with the situation complicated by the realization that I'm missing some part of my uniform. The funny part of this is that I can talk to guys who graduated 10 or 20 years before me, and learn that they have the exact same dreams! Weird!
Thursday, April 2, 2009
H. L. Mencken on William Jennings Bryan
I've always enjoyed H.L. Mencken, having first encountered him as a sharp critic of the "New South" and America's rising middle class, which he called the "Booboisie." Today we rarely encounter writing of this quality in our newspapers. Moreover, the demagogues of talk radio and television could learn a thing or two from Mencken.
I just encountered Mencken's obituary of William Jennings Bryan, who died shortly after participating in the famous "Scopes Monkey Trial" in Dayton, Tennessee. For me, much of Mencken's judgment could be applied to some of the more conservative, evangelical Christian leaders in this country who peddle hatred and anti-intellectualism like desperate salesmen. Pat Robertson and the late Jerry Falwell come to mind. (The photograph shows Clarence Darrow, left, and William Jennings Bryan, right, in Dayton during the trial.)
The Baltimore Evening Sun, July 27, 1925
William Jennings Bryan
It was plain to everyone, when Bryan came to Dayton, that his great days were behind him -- that he was now definitely an old man, and headed at last for silence. There was a vague, unpleasant manginess about his appearance; he somehow seemed dirty, though a close glance showed him carefully shaved, and clad in immaculate linen. All the hair was gone from the dome of his head, and it had begun to fall out, too, behind his ears, like that of the late Samuel Gompers. The old resonance had departed from his voice: what was once a bugle blast had become reedy and quavering. Who knows that, like Demosthenes, he had a lisp? In his prime, under the magic of his eloquence, no one noticed it. But when he spoke at Dayton it was always audible.
When I first encountered him, on the sidewalk in front of the Hicks brothers law office, the trial was yet to begin, and so he was still expansive and amiable. I had printed in the Nation, a week or so before, an article arguing that the anti-evolution law, whatever its unwisdom, was at least constitutional -- that policing school teachers was certainly not putting down free speech. The old boy professed to be delighted with the argument, and gave the gaping bystanders to understand that I was a talented publicist. In turn I admired the curious shirt he wore -- sleeveless and with the neck cut very low. We parted in the manner of two Spanish ambassadors.
But that was the last touch of affability that I was destined to see in Bryan. The next day the battle joined and his face became hard. By the end of the first week he was simply a walking malignancy. Hour by hour he grew more bitter. What the Christian Scientists call malicious animal magnetism seemed to radiate from him like heat from a stove. From my place in the court-room, standing upon a table, I looked directly down upon him, sweating horribly and pumping his palm-leaf fan. His eyes fascinated me: I watched them all day long. They were blazing points of hatred. They glittered like occult and sinister gems. Now and then they wandered to me, and I got my share. It was like coming under fire.
II
What was behind that consuming hatred? At first I thought that it was mere evangelical passion. Evangelical Christianity, as everyone knows, is founded upon hate, as the Christianity of Christ was founded upon love. But even evangelical Christians occasionally loose their belts and belch amicably; I have known some who, off duty, were very benignant. In that very courtroom, indeed, were some of them -- for example, old Ben McKenzie, Nestor of the Dayton bar, who sat beside Bryan. Ben was full of good humor. He made jokes with Darrow. But Bryan only glared.
One day it dawned on me that Bryan, after all, was an evangelical Christian only by sort of afterthought -- that his career in this world, and the glories thereof, had actually come to an end before he ever began whooping for Genesis. So I came to this conclusion: that what really moved him was a lust for revenge. The men of the cities had destroyed him and made a mock of him; now he would lead the yokels against them. Various facts clicked into the theory, and I hold it still. The hatred in the old man's burning eyes was not for the enemies of God; it was for the enemies of Bryan.
Thus he fought his last fight, eager only for blood. It quickly became frenzied and preposterous, and after that pathetic. All sense departed from him. He bit right and left, like a dog with rabies. He descended to demagogy so dreadful that his very associates blushed. His one yearning was to keep his yokels heated up -- to lead his forlorn mob against the foe. That foe, alas, refused to be alarmed. It insisted upon seeing the battle as a comedy. Even Darrow, who knew better, occasionally yielded to the prevailing spirit. Finally, he lured poor Bryan into a folly almost incredible.
I allude to his astounding argument against the notion that man is a mammal. I am glad I heard it, for otherwise I'd never believe it. There stood the man who had been thrice a candidate for the Presidency of the Republic -- and once, I believe, elected -- there he stood in the glare of the world, uttering stuff that a boy of eight would laugh at! The artful Darrow led him on: he repeated it, ranted for it, bellowed it in his cracked voice. A tragedy, indeed! He came into life a hero, a Galahad, in bright and shining armor. Now he was passing out a pathetic fool.
III
Worse, I believe that he somehow sensed the fact -- that he realized his personal failure, whatever the success of the grotesque cause he spoke for. I had left Dayton before Darrow's cross-examination brought him to his final absurdity, but I heard his long speech against the admission of expert testimony, and I saw how it fell flat and how Bryan himself was conscious of the fact. When he sat down he was done for, and he knew it. The old magic had failed to work; there was applause but there was no exultant shouts. When, half an hour later, Dudley Field Malone delivered his terrific philippic, the very yokels gave him five times the clapper-clawing that they had given to Bryan.
This combat was the old leader's last, and it symbolized in more than one way his passing. Two women sat through it, the one old and crippled, the other young and in the full flush of beauty. The first was Mrs. Bryan; the second was Mrs. Malone. When Malone finished his speech the crowd stormed his wife with felicitations, and she glowed as only a woman can who has seen her man fight a hard fight and win gloriously. But no one congratulated Mrs. Bryan. She sat hunched in her chair near the judge, apparently very uneasy. I thought then that she was ill -- she has been making the round of sanitariums for years, and was lately in the hands of a faith-healer -- but now I think that some appalling prescience was upon her, and that she saw in Bryan's eyes a hint of the collapse that was so near.
He sank into his seat a wreck, and was presently forgotten in the blast of Malone's titanic rhetoric. His speech had been maundering feeble and often downright idiotic. Presumably, he was speaking to a point of law, but it was quickly apparent that he knew no more law than the bailiff at the door. So he launched into mere violet garrulity. He dragged in snatches of ancient chautauqua addresses; he wandered up hill and down dale. Finally, Darrow lured him into that fabulous imbecility about man as a mammal. He sat down one of the most tragic asses in American history.
IV
It is the national custom to sentimentalize the dead, as it is to sentimentalize men about to be hanged. Perhaps I fall into that weakness here. The Bryan I shall remember is the Bryan of his last weeks on earth -- broken, furious, and infinitely pathetic. It was impossible to meet his hatred with hatred to match it. He was winning a battle that would make him forever infamous wherever enlightened men remembered it and him. Even his old enemy, Darrow, was gentle with him at the end. That cross-examination might have been ten times as devastating. It was plain to everyone that the old Berserker Bryan was gone -- that all that remained of him was a pair of glaring and horrible eyes.
But what of his life? Did he accomplish any useful thing? Was he, in his day, of any dignity as a man, and of any value to his fellow-men? I doubt it. Bryan, at his best, was simply a magnificent job-seeker. The issues that he bawled about usually meant nothing to him. He was ready to abandon them whenever he could make votes by doing so, and to take up new ones at a moment's notice. For years he evaded Prohibition as dangerous; then he embraced it as profitable. At the Democratic National Convention last year he was on both sides, and distrusted by both. In his last great battle there was only a baleful and ridiculous malignancy. If he was pathetic, he was also disgusting.
Bryan was a vulgar and common man, a cad undiluted. He was ignorant, bigoted, self-seeking, blatant and dishonest. His career brought him into contact with the first men of his time; he preferred the company of rustic ignoramuses. It was hard to believe, watching him at Dayton, that he had traveled, that he had been received in civilized societies, that he had been a high officer of state. He seemed only a poor clod like those around him, deluded by a childish theology, full of an almost pathological hatred of all learning, all human dignity, all beauty, all fine and noble things. He was a peasant come home to the dung-pile. Imagine a gentleman, and you have imagined everything that he was not.
The job before democracy is to get rid of such canaille. If it fails, they will devour it.
I just encountered Mencken's obituary of William Jennings Bryan, who died shortly after participating in the famous "Scopes Monkey Trial" in Dayton, Tennessee. For me, much of Mencken's judgment could be applied to some of the more conservative, evangelical Christian leaders in this country who peddle hatred and anti-intellectualism like desperate salesmen. Pat Robertson and the late Jerry Falwell come to mind. (The photograph shows Clarence Darrow, left, and William Jennings Bryan, right, in Dayton during the trial.)The Baltimore Evening Sun, July 27, 1925
William Jennings Bryan
It was plain to everyone, when Bryan came to Dayton, that his great days were behind him -- that he was now definitely an old man, and headed at last for silence. There was a vague, unpleasant manginess about his appearance; he somehow seemed dirty, though a close glance showed him carefully shaved, and clad in immaculate linen. All the hair was gone from the dome of his head, and it had begun to fall out, too, behind his ears, like that of the late Samuel Gompers. The old resonance had departed from his voice: what was once a bugle blast had become reedy and quavering. Who knows that, like Demosthenes, he had a lisp? In his prime, under the magic of his eloquence, no one noticed it. But when he spoke at Dayton it was always audible.
When I first encountered him, on the sidewalk in front of the Hicks brothers law office, the trial was yet to begin, and so he was still expansive and amiable. I had printed in the Nation, a week or so before, an article arguing that the anti-evolution law, whatever its unwisdom, was at least constitutional -- that policing school teachers was certainly not putting down free speech. The old boy professed to be delighted with the argument, and gave the gaping bystanders to understand that I was a talented publicist. In turn I admired the curious shirt he wore -- sleeveless and with the neck cut very low. We parted in the manner of two Spanish ambassadors.
But that was the last touch of affability that I was destined to see in Bryan. The next day the battle joined and his face became hard. By the end of the first week he was simply a walking malignancy. Hour by hour he grew more bitter. What the Christian Scientists call malicious animal magnetism seemed to radiate from him like heat from a stove. From my place in the court-room, standing upon a table, I looked directly down upon him, sweating horribly and pumping his palm-leaf fan. His eyes fascinated me: I watched them all day long. They were blazing points of hatred. They glittered like occult and sinister gems. Now and then they wandered to me, and I got my share. It was like coming under fire.
II
What was behind that consuming hatred? At first I thought that it was mere evangelical passion. Evangelical Christianity, as everyone knows, is founded upon hate, as the Christianity of Christ was founded upon love. But even evangelical Christians occasionally loose their belts and belch amicably; I have known some who, off duty, were very benignant. In that very courtroom, indeed, were some of them -- for example, old Ben McKenzie, Nestor of the Dayton bar, who sat beside Bryan. Ben was full of good humor. He made jokes with Darrow. But Bryan only glared.
One day it dawned on me that Bryan, after all, was an evangelical Christian only by sort of afterthought -- that his career in this world, and the glories thereof, had actually come to an end before he ever began whooping for Genesis. So I came to this conclusion: that what really moved him was a lust for revenge. The men of the cities had destroyed him and made a mock of him; now he would lead the yokels against them. Various facts clicked into the theory, and I hold it still. The hatred in the old man's burning eyes was not for the enemies of God; it was for the enemies of Bryan.
Thus he fought his last fight, eager only for blood. It quickly became frenzied and preposterous, and after that pathetic. All sense departed from him. He bit right and left, like a dog with rabies. He descended to demagogy so dreadful that his very associates blushed. His one yearning was to keep his yokels heated up -- to lead his forlorn mob against the foe. That foe, alas, refused to be alarmed. It insisted upon seeing the battle as a comedy. Even Darrow, who knew better, occasionally yielded to the prevailing spirit. Finally, he lured poor Bryan into a folly almost incredible.
I allude to his astounding argument against the notion that man is a mammal. I am glad I heard it, for otherwise I'd never believe it. There stood the man who had been thrice a candidate for the Presidency of the Republic -- and once, I believe, elected -- there he stood in the glare of the world, uttering stuff that a boy of eight would laugh at! The artful Darrow led him on: he repeated it, ranted for it, bellowed it in his cracked voice. A tragedy, indeed! He came into life a hero, a Galahad, in bright and shining armor. Now he was passing out a pathetic fool.
III
Worse, I believe that he somehow sensed the fact -- that he realized his personal failure, whatever the success of the grotesque cause he spoke for. I had left Dayton before Darrow's cross-examination brought him to his final absurdity, but I heard his long speech against the admission of expert testimony, and I saw how it fell flat and how Bryan himself was conscious of the fact. When he sat down he was done for, and he knew it. The old magic had failed to work; there was applause but there was no exultant shouts. When, half an hour later, Dudley Field Malone delivered his terrific philippic, the very yokels gave him five times the clapper-clawing that they had given to Bryan.
This combat was the old leader's last, and it symbolized in more than one way his passing. Two women sat through it, the one old and crippled, the other young and in the full flush of beauty. The first was Mrs. Bryan; the second was Mrs. Malone. When Malone finished his speech the crowd stormed his wife with felicitations, and she glowed as only a woman can who has seen her man fight a hard fight and win gloriously. But no one congratulated Mrs. Bryan. She sat hunched in her chair near the judge, apparently very uneasy. I thought then that she was ill -- she has been making the round of sanitariums for years, and was lately in the hands of a faith-healer -- but now I think that some appalling prescience was upon her, and that she saw in Bryan's eyes a hint of the collapse that was so near.
He sank into his seat a wreck, and was presently forgotten in the blast of Malone's titanic rhetoric. His speech had been maundering feeble and often downright idiotic. Presumably, he was speaking to a point of law, but it was quickly apparent that he knew no more law than the bailiff at the door. So he launched into mere violet garrulity. He dragged in snatches of ancient chautauqua addresses; he wandered up hill and down dale. Finally, Darrow lured him into that fabulous imbecility about man as a mammal. He sat down one of the most tragic asses in American history.
IV
It is the national custom to sentimentalize the dead, as it is to sentimentalize men about to be hanged. Perhaps I fall into that weakness here. The Bryan I shall remember is the Bryan of his last weeks on earth -- broken, furious, and infinitely pathetic. It was impossible to meet his hatred with hatred to match it. He was winning a battle that would make him forever infamous wherever enlightened men remembered it and him. Even his old enemy, Darrow, was gentle with him at the end. That cross-examination might have been ten times as devastating. It was plain to everyone that the old Berserker Bryan was gone -- that all that remained of him was a pair of glaring and horrible eyes.
But what of his life? Did he accomplish any useful thing? Was he, in his day, of any dignity as a man, and of any value to his fellow-men? I doubt it. Bryan, at his best, was simply a magnificent job-seeker. The issues that he bawled about usually meant nothing to him. He was ready to abandon them whenever he could make votes by doing so, and to take up new ones at a moment's notice. For years he evaded Prohibition as dangerous; then he embraced it as profitable. At the Democratic National Convention last year he was on both sides, and distrusted by both. In his last great battle there was only a baleful and ridiculous malignancy. If he was pathetic, he was also disgusting.
Bryan was a vulgar and common man, a cad undiluted. He was ignorant, bigoted, self-seeking, blatant and dishonest. His career brought him into contact with the first men of his time; he preferred the company of rustic ignoramuses. It was hard to believe, watching him at Dayton, that he had traveled, that he had been received in civilized societies, that he had been a high officer of state. He seemed only a poor clod like those around him, deluded by a childish theology, full of an almost pathological hatred of all learning, all human dignity, all beauty, all fine and noble things. He was a peasant come home to the dung-pile. Imagine a gentleman, and you have imagined everything that he was not.
The job before democracy is to get rid of such canaille. If it fails, they will devour it.
Friday, January 2, 2009
Happy Blog-iversary
Two years ago today I started this little experiment and it's amazing that it's still going - especially since it began as a New Year's resolution. I've been determined to keep up with this one and, despite a few lean months and periods of half-assed inspiration, "My Tears Spoiled My Aim" has maintained a reasonably steady flow of images, opinions and information - with 460 posts in the archive. Naturally this blog continues to evolve as my interests change and my mercurial personality travels a rather haphazard course. I look forward to a third year with this site, and hope that in the coming months I'll have new things to share and report. Lucky to live in New York City, I could hardly become bored by the daily parade of life, even if my own routine descends to the level of the mundane and stifling.So a happy new year to all. And a "Thank You" to those of you who have been regular visitors and offered friendly comments. I always appreciate the input and enjoy the friendships.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
The Annual Christmas Letter
Ebenezer Scrooge here . . . I want to complain about the barrage of elaborate Christmas "cards" that have those annual "letters" to everyone detailing what's happened in the previous year. In the days before email and facebook, one could excuse this kind of excess. (Although a telephone call would have been so much more meaningful. I guess we can't call everyone on our Christmas card list.) Now, however, we get cards that were designed on Shutterfly, Publisher, or other snappy design software. They come printed with full color photos of vacations and holidays worthy of an over-inflated movie review or travel agency brochure. The emailed versions are sometimes even worse, with hyperlinks to Flickr accounts and photo slideshows brought to you by the friendly folks at Wal-Mart photo labs.
Mind you, I'm not opposed to the practice in principle. It's nice to reconnect with high school classmates, bridesmaids, fraternity brothers, and anyone else with whom we've shaken hands over the last three decades. Sometimes it's just nice to know that an old friend is still alive and leading the weekly sing-along at the nursing home in one's old home town. And it's ok to tell us that you're a new grandparent or served as best man at your son's wedding.
My complaint is with the Christmas letters that ramble on for multiple pages, detailing the minutiae of a child's athletic or academic exploits. We don't need to know that your dad had successful surgery for hemorrhoids. We don't need to know about your low golf score or fantastic find at an antique show. If your Christmas letter needs a table of contents, it's too long! I realize that these are the same people who sport the "My child is an honor student at [insert school name here]" or "This car is chihuahua friendly" bumper stickers on their cars. God may be your co-pilot but he doesn't need to be given credit on a bumper sticker . . . Just as we don't need a detailed analysis of your stock portfolio's performance in the annual Christmas missive. If you really want to give out that much information, pick up the phone or schedule a visit, if that's possible. Don't assume that we all want to know you attended the World Series and cheered for the Phillies, because we rooted for the hapless Mets. (These photos came from one of my favorite websites, "Look at Me," which I've mentioned in earlier posts.) Also, please don't take this post too seriously. This is essentially tongue-in-cheek commentary. :-)
Mind you, I'm not opposed to the practice in principle. It's nice to reconnect with high school classmates, bridesmaids, fraternity brothers, and anyone else with whom we've shaken hands over the last three decades. Sometimes it's just nice to know that an old friend is still alive and leading the weekly sing-along at the nursing home in one's old home town. And it's ok to tell us that you're a new grandparent or served as best man at your son's wedding.
My complaint is with the Christmas letters that ramble on for multiple pages, detailing the minutiae of a child's athletic or academic exploits. We don't need to know that your dad had successful surgery for hemorrhoids. We don't need to know about your low golf score or fantastic find at an antique show. If your Christmas letter needs a table of contents, it's too long! I realize that these are the same people who sport the "My child is an honor student at [insert school name here]" or "This car is chihuahua friendly" bumper stickers on their cars. God may be your co-pilot but he doesn't need to be given credit on a bumper sticker . . . Just as we don't need a detailed analysis of your stock portfolio's performance in the annual Christmas missive. If you really want to give out that much information, pick up the phone or schedule a visit, if that's possible. Don't assume that we all want to know you attended the World Series and cheered for the Phillies, because we rooted for the hapless Mets. (These photos came from one of my favorite websites, "Look at Me," which I've mentioned in earlier posts.) Also, please don't take this post too seriously. This is essentially tongue-in-cheek commentary. :-)
Monday, November 24, 2008
"Cashmas" or "Giftmas"???
Whether we're ready for it or not, the season of "Cashmas" or "Giftmas" - take your pick - is upon us. I remember writing here last year about the disturbingly early appearance of decorations in that interlude between Halloween and the onslaught of "the holidays." But this year the whole production seems to have started even earlier. No doubt the economic crisis has fueled the premature appearance of Santa and his elves. And "Sale" signs are already popping up at major retailers across the country. Santa has already appeared at local malls and the same is true in Virginia, according to my parents - more than two weeks before Thanksgiving!! What happened to the tradition of Santa making his appearance in those first harried shopping days after Thanksgiving? Even the big retailers like Macy's and Lord & Taylor have already unveiled their holiday windows.
I understand retailers' desperation at this point. Many smaller stores will barely survive into 2009. (Here in the city, many have beaten the January stampede and closed their doors already.) Several national chains have also announced that they will close all or many of their stores in the new year. Discount chains (ie. Wal-Mart, Target, etc.) will enjoy higher sales, I predict, simply because more shoppers are searching for bargains, especially bargains for toys and games.
We haven't even begun to think about Christmas yet. I'm normally very enthusiastic about Christmas and the holiday's trappings, but I'm already sick of the piped-in Christmas songs that echo in every store and bodega. (Who in god's name decided that "My Favorite Things" from The Sound of Music is a song appropriate for Christmas?!) I may yet become a Scrooge!
I understand retailers' desperation at this point. Many smaller stores will barely survive into 2009. (Here in the city, many have beaten the January stampede and closed their doors already.) Several national chains have also announced that they will close all or many of their stores in the new year. Discount chains (ie. Wal-Mart, Target, etc.) will enjoy higher sales, I predict, simply because more shoppers are searching for bargains, especially bargains for toys and games.
We haven't even begun to think about Christmas yet. I'm normally very enthusiastic about Christmas and the holiday's trappings, but I'm already sick of the piped-in Christmas songs that echo in every store and bodega. (Who in god's name decided that "My Favorite Things" from The Sound of Music is a song appropriate for Christmas?!) I may yet become a Scrooge!
Thursday, November 20, 2008
The Future of the Republican Party?
I saw this posted in Chelsea and couldn't resist sharing. Can you believe there are still people out there who honestly believe she is the future of the Republican party? If she's the future, we can just assume that the Republicans will be even more ill-informed and ignorant than they are now. As Bill Maher observed on Jay Leno last night, referring to Palin's failure to know that Africa is a continent: "That's some mighty powerful stupid."
Monday, November 17, 2008
The Election
Obviously I haven't had a chance to use this forum to reflect on the election, and even now do not have the time to respond properly. Needless to say, I'm overjoyed at the result and relieved that we won't have to put up with four years of McCain and Palin - especially Palin! Nevertheless, I'm afraid we haven't seen the last of her, given her media whoring over the last week. She's determined to remain in the national spotlight and may just get the chance in the near future.Yes, there is plenty to celebrate in President-elect Obama's victory. It represents a signal moment in U.S. history - a moment that is already prompting reconsideration of this country's direction around the globe. Nevertheless, I'm a political realist and understand that presidents are not "saviors" in the messianic sense, able to single-handedly lead a nation to salvation or some idealized, patriotic "promised land." The latest issue of Time casts Obama in the role of FDR, potentially offering a "New New Deal." As an admirer of the Depression-era New Deal, I fervently hope that Obama will succeed in changing the governmental paradigm of the last eight years. The country needs bold action and leadership that is willing to tackle fundamental problems - economic and social. Washington, of course, isn't the same place it was in 1933 when Roosevelt had a clear popular mandate to effect change. Obama will not have the opportunity to experiment in the same way FDR and his "brain trust" attacked the Great Depression. Still, we can hope that the severity of the current crisis prompts a unity of purpose between the White House and Congress in the coming months.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Some Thoughts on the Election
Where to start . . . Given my history on this blog one might have expected me to rant and rave about the election over the last several weeks. First, I guess I've been too shocked at the depravity of the McCain/Palin campaign to respond in any meaningful fashion. But if you've followed the race, you know what I'm talking about - thinly-veiled bigotry, the standard-issue Republican fear-mongering, and outright lies. In the end, McCain thoroughly compromised his ideals in an effort to secure the support of his party's right wing, aligning himself with the very elements of Republican intolerance and fascism for which he had expressed disdain just eight years ago. Rather than running on his more moderate record, he adopted the Rove playbook and thus firmly allied himself with the Bush/Cheney "axis of evil." The scariest part of it all is that he could still win!Looking at a map of Republican support around the country, it's clear that there's still a substantial element of the electorate that is just ignorant enough to accept the Republican falsehoods. Although McCain and Palin liked to trumpet loudly the claim that these areas represented the most patriotic and thus the most "American" parts of the country, these districts are now distinguishing themselves for having evolved the least - politically and intellectually - over the last 40 years. Indeed, these Americans seem to celebrate their ignorance, and herald as a virtue their disdain for education, liberalism, and real democracy. And while they often align themselves with the principles of the "Founders," one is compelled to observe that the likes of Jefferson, Franklin, and Madison would have regarded them as the "mobocracy," barely capable of self-government.
Obviously I pray that Barak Obama wins this election. Yet I'm enough of a political realist to understand that even Obama will be no savior capable of reversing entirely the perilous course now followed by the U.S. But Obama does offer a more enlightened vision of how that can be accomplished. Nevertheless, even if Obama is elected, the forces of intolerance, anti-intellectualism, and bigotry will continue to rally, redoubling their efforts to create a theocratic, fascist state anchored by the Republican party's hawks and evangelical terrorists.
If the pollsters are wrong, and McCain pulls off an upset reminiscent of Harry Truman's 1948 victory over Dewey, I will not stand in "loyal" opposition to a Republican president and his "hockey mom" second-in-command whose foreign policy expertise is limited to a neighborly proximity to Russia. Indeed, with a McCain/Palin victory I would do whatever possible - and legal - to foment disloyal opposition in an effort to unseat these usurpers of the Constitution. Their continued strength in this country represents a cancer on the body of the commonwealth, a cancer that needs to be excised through a revolution in the ballot boxes.
Of course, over the last several days (and at this very moment), Republican operatives are engaging in illegal activities to steal the votes of ordinary citizens. As Paul Weyrich, one of their evangelical leaders, pointed out as early as 1980, they do not want a large voter turnout. They do not want an informed electorate. They do not want a truly participatory democracy. So they foment ignorance, misinformation, and fear, to keep people away from the polling places on election day. Don't let them steal your vote! Don't be a consumer of their ignorance and fear-filled messages. Don't let them further corrupt the Constitution and trample on the liberties that document protects. Turn back the tide of nascent fascism in this country. Cast a vote for rationalism and hope.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Palin Bumpersticker
If I lived in the 'burbs and drove a car regularly, this bumper sticker would be on my car. Leave it to the "religious right" to spin this into a political asset for Palin.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
A Call to Arms - Anne Lamott
I can't resist re-posting this piece by the always-entertaining Anne Lamott.
"A Call to Arms"
How to handle the fury brought on by this election? Register voters, hit the streets, pray. Stop talking about her. Talk about Obama.
By Anne Lamott Sept. 16, 2008
I had to leave church Sunday morning when it turned out that the sermon was not about bearing up under desperate circumstances, when you feel like you're going crazy because something is being perpetrated upon you and your country that is so obscene that it simply cannot be happening.
I sat outside a 7-Eleven and had a sacramental Dove chocolate bar. Jeez: Here we are again. A man and a woman whose values we loathe and despise -- lying, rageful and incompetent, so dangerous to children and old people, to innocent people in every part of the world -- are being worshiped, exalted by the media, in a position to take a swing at all that is loveliest about this earth and what's left of our precious freedoms.
When I got home from church, I drank a bunch of water to metabolize the Dove bar and called my Jesuit friend, who I know hates these people, too. I asked, "Don't you think God finds these smug egomaniacs morally repellent? Recoils from their smugness as from hot flame?"And he said, "Absolutely. They are everything He or She hates in a Christian.
"I have been in a better mood ever since, and have decided not to even say this woman's name anymore, because she fills me with such existential doubt, such a sense of impending doom and disbelief, that only the Germans could possibly have words for it. Nor am I going to say the word "lipstick" again until after the election, as it would only be used against me. Or "polar bear," because that one image makes me sadder than even horrible old I can stand.
I hate to criticize. And I love to kill wolves as much as the next person does. But this woman takes such pride in her ignorance, doesn't have a doubt in the world about her messianic calling, that it makes anyone of decency feel nauseated -- spiritually, emotionally and physically ill.I say that with love. As we say in Texas. (Also, we say, "Bless her heart.")
We felt this grief and nausea during the run-up to the war in Iraq. We felt it after the 2004 election. And now we feel it again.
But since there are still six weeks until the election, and since the stakes are as high as the sky, which should definitely not be forced to endure four more years of the same, we have got to get a grip. There are millions of people to register to vote, millions of dollars to be raised. We really cannot go around feeling flat and defeated, with the need to metabolize the rotten meat that this one particular candidate and the media have forced upon us.
One of the tiny metabolic suggestions I have to offer -- if, like me, you choose not to have her name on your lips, like an oozy cold sore (I say that with love) -- is to check out a Web site called the Sarah Palin Baby Name Generator. There you can find out what she and her husband would have named you if you had been their baby. My name, Anne, for instance, would be Krinkle Bearcat. John, her running mate, would be named Stick Freedom. George would be Crunk Petrol. And so on.
First of all, go find out what your own name would be. Then for one day refuse to use the name of these people who are so damaging to earth and to our very souls -- so, "I don't have to understand anything, it's all fuzzy math. Trust me. I'm the decider." From now on, when working for Obama, talk about Obama, talk about his policies, the issues, the economy, the war in Iraq, poverty, the last eight years, Joe Biden. You don't have to mention Crunk Petrol, or his sidekick, Shaver Razorback.
And you sure as hell don't have to mention Claw Washout -- she is absolutely, hands-down the most ludicrous person ever to be nominated. She's a "South Park" character. There was a mix-up. Mistakes were made.
Everything you need to know about how to bear up during these two months is already inside you. Go within: Work on your own emotional acre. Stand still, and hurt, and feel crazy. Then drink a lot of water, pray, meditate, rest. Rest is a spiritual act. Now, I am a reform Christian, so it is permissible for me to secretly believe that God hates this woman, too. I heard God slam down a couple of shooters while she was talking the other night.
Figure out one thing you can do every single day to be a part of the solution, concentrating on swing states. Money, walking precincts, registering voters, whatever. This is the only way miracles ever happen -- left foot, right foot, left foot, breathe. Right foot, left foot, right foot, breathe. The great novelist E.L. Doctorow once said that writing a novel is like driving at night with the headlights on: You can only see a little ways in front of you, but you can make the whole journey this way. It is the truest of all things; the only way to write a book, raise a child, save the world.
As my anonymous pal Krinkle Bearcat once wrote: Laughter is carbonated holiness. It is chemo. So do whatever it takes to keep your sense of humor. Rent Christopher Guest movies, read books by Roz Chast and Maira Kalman. Picture Stick Freedom in his Batman underpants, having one of his episodes of rage alone in one of his seven bedrooms. Or having one of his bathroomy little conversations with Froth Moonshine. (Bless their hearts.) Try to remember that even Karl Rove has accused him of being a lying suck.
Reread everything Molly Ivins and Jim Hightower ever wrote. Write down that great line of Molly's, that "freedom fighters don't always win, but they're always right." Tape it next to your phone.
Call the loneliest person you know. Go flirt with the oldest person at the bookstore.
Fill up a box with really cool clothes that you haven't worn in a year, and take it to a thrift shop. Take gray water outside and water whatever is growing on your deck. This is not a bad metaphor to live by. I think it is why we are here. Drink more fluids. And take very gentle care of yourself and the people you most love: We need you now more than ever.
"A Call to Arms"
How to handle the fury brought on by this election? Register voters, hit the streets, pray. Stop talking about her. Talk about Obama.
By Anne Lamott Sept. 16, 2008
I had to leave church Sunday morning when it turned out that the sermon was not about bearing up under desperate circumstances, when you feel like you're going crazy because something is being perpetrated upon you and your country that is so obscene that it simply cannot be happening.
I sat outside a 7-Eleven and had a sacramental Dove chocolate bar. Jeez: Here we are again. A man and a woman whose values we loathe and despise -- lying, rageful and incompetent, so dangerous to children and old people, to innocent people in every part of the world -- are being worshiped, exalted by the media, in a position to take a swing at all that is loveliest about this earth and what's left of our precious freedoms.
When I got home from church, I drank a bunch of water to metabolize the Dove bar and called my Jesuit friend, who I know hates these people, too. I asked, "Don't you think God finds these smug egomaniacs morally repellent? Recoils from their smugness as from hot flame?"And he said, "Absolutely. They are everything He or She hates in a Christian.
"I have been in a better mood ever since, and have decided not to even say this woman's name anymore, because she fills me with such existential doubt, such a sense of impending doom and disbelief, that only the Germans could possibly have words for it. Nor am I going to say the word "lipstick" again until after the election, as it would only be used against me. Or "polar bear," because that one image makes me sadder than even horrible old I can stand.
I hate to criticize. And I love to kill wolves as much as the next person does. But this woman takes such pride in her ignorance, doesn't have a doubt in the world about her messianic calling, that it makes anyone of decency feel nauseated -- spiritually, emotionally and physically ill.I say that with love. As we say in Texas. (Also, we say, "Bless her heart.")
We felt this grief and nausea during the run-up to the war in Iraq. We felt it after the 2004 election. And now we feel it again.
But since there are still six weeks until the election, and since the stakes are as high as the sky, which should definitely not be forced to endure four more years of the same, we have got to get a grip. There are millions of people to register to vote, millions of dollars to be raised. We really cannot go around feeling flat and defeated, with the need to metabolize the rotten meat that this one particular candidate and the media have forced upon us.
One of the tiny metabolic suggestions I have to offer -- if, like me, you choose not to have her name on your lips, like an oozy cold sore (I say that with love) -- is to check out a Web site called the Sarah Palin Baby Name Generator. There you can find out what she and her husband would have named you if you had been their baby. My name, Anne, for instance, would be Krinkle Bearcat. John, her running mate, would be named Stick Freedom. George would be Crunk Petrol. And so on.
First of all, go find out what your own name would be. Then for one day refuse to use the name of these people who are so damaging to earth and to our very souls -- so, "I don't have to understand anything, it's all fuzzy math. Trust me. I'm the decider." From now on, when working for Obama, talk about Obama, talk about his policies, the issues, the economy, the war in Iraq, poverty, the last eight years, Joe Biden. You don't have to mention Crunk Petrol, or his sidekick, Shaver Razorback.
And you sure as hell don't have to mention Claw Washout -- she is absolutely, hands-down the most ludicrous person ever to be nominated. She's a "South Park" character. There was a mix-up. Mistakes were made.
Everything you need to know about how to bear up during these two months is already inside you. Go within: Work on your own emotional acre. Stand still, and hurt, and feel crazy. Then drink a lot of water, pray, meditate, rest. Rest is a spiritual act. Now, I am a reform Christian, so it is permissible for me to secretly believe that God hates this woman, too. I heard God slam down a couple of shooters while she was talking the other night.
Figure out one thing you can do every single day to be a part of the solution, concentrating on swing states. Money, walking precincts, registering voters, whatever. This is the only way miracles ever happen -- left foot, right foot, left foot, breathe. Right foot, left foot, right foot, breathe. The great novelist E.L. Doctorow once said that writing a novel is like driving at night with the headlights on: You can only see a little ways in front of you, but you can make the whole journey this way. It is the truest of all things; the only way to write a book, raise a child, save the world.
As my anonymous pal Krinkle Bearcat once wrote: Laughter is carbonated holiness. It is chemo. So do whatever it takes to keep your sense of humor. Rent Christopher Guest movies, read books by Roz Chast and Maira Kalman. Picture Stick Freedom in his Batman underpants, having one of his episodes of rage alone in one of his seven bedrooms. Or having one of his bathroomy little conversations with Froth Moonshine. (Bless their hearts.) Try to remember that even Karl Rove has accused him of being a lying suck.
Reread everything Molly Ivins and Jim Hightower ever wrote. Write down that great line of Molly's, that "freedom fighters don't always win, but they're always right." Tape it next to your phone.
Call the loneliest person you know. Go flirt with the oldest person at the bookstore.
Fill up a box with really cool clothes that you haven't worn in a year, and take it to a thrift shop. Take gray water outside and water whatever is growing on your deck. This is not a bad metaphor to live by. I think it is why we are here. Drink more fluids. And take very gentle care of yourself and the people you most love: We need you now more than ever.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
The "Angry Left"
The other night President Bush referred with contempt to the "angry left" in his address to the Republican convention. Of course the Left is angry - as are many Americans who would never identify themselves with the Left or liberals in general. We're angry that this president and his administration have hijacked the Constitution. We're angry that they've subverted basic human rights - for citizens and detainees alike - in the name of national security. We're angry because this administration has made ideological orthodoxy the litmus test for government office. We're angry because the Justice Department was crippled by unethical and illegal conduct. We're angry because the Bush administration is responsible for the deaths of thousands of American soldiers - and many more thousands of innocent citizens of Iraq and Afghanistan. We're angry because Bush and Cheney have turned back the clock on efforts to protect the environment. We're angry because this administration's energy policy caters to the interests of "big oil" and "big coal" while scarcely acknowledging the necessity of developing alternative energy programs. We're angry because Bush and the Republicans pander to the anti-intellectualism of the fascist, evangelical right wing. And the list goes on and on and on. The Republican party should take the opportunity this week to apologize to the American people for the last eight years, while promising to right the wrongs of the Bush administration.As for McCain and Palin . . . McCain has drifted farther and farther to the right in an effort to appease the fascist wing of his party, reversing his previously moderate views on numerous issues. Moreover, while he talks about fixing the mess in Washington, neither he nor his campaign advisers have offered specific ideas on how that might be accomplished. In fact, four years of John McCain would look very much like the last eight years of George Bush. A responsible energy policy? The Republican convention crowds' chants for more drilling suggest otherwise. Tax reform? McCain would make the Bush tax cuts permanent, benefiting corporations and the wealthiest Americans.
And Palin? Her daughter's pregnancy, as Democratic leaders correctly intoned, is a non-issue and has no bearing on her ability to serve as vice-president. However, her anti-intellectualism, as well as her views on abortion, gun control, and evolution, should have disqualified her from consideration. For example, shortly after taking office as mayor of her small Alaska town she investigated the possibility of banning certain books in the local public library, while trying to fire the librarian as well. Is this the kind of person we want just a heartbeat away from the presidency? Someone who is so ideologically short-sighted and intellectually limited that she would even think about pulling books from library shelves simply because they don't square with her evangelical, conservative mindset? This is neither Nazi Germany nor Soviet Russia. No thank you.
Friday, August 22, 2008
Tenement
I was in Brooklyn last weekend, Coney Island to be more specific, and ended up walking through "the projects" to reach the basketball courts for my son's tournament. It's dismaying to walk through the playgrounds and courtyards that link these towers of public assistance housing and find piles of garbage - trash that includes the tiny ziplock bags that are the evidence of the previous night's drug deals. While we felt entirely safe in the light of day, I wouldn't want to walk through late at night. Of course, if I had to live my life in a concrete slab like this, I'd probably turn to unhealthy vices too! These high-rise blocks of apartments would have made a city planner in Stalin's Soviet Union proud, because they remind the observer of the worst sins of Russia's postwar architects. Perhaps they provide more light and air than the classic Lower East Side tenement, but they're hardly less depressing.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
"Vanity of vanities, all is vanity."
Does it get any more vain or vacuous than this - a story in the New York Times about a new trend in the already over-the-top wedding business? In "It’s Botox for You, Dear Bridesmaids" the Times reveals that the hot accessory for brides and their bridesmaids is botox treatments. And it doesn't end there. Plastic surgeons report that many brides-to-be (as well as mothers of the bride and groom) invest in everything from chemical peels and laser treatments to liposuction and botox injections before marching down the aisle. Even more astonishing is the report that these "bridezillas" often request that their bridesmaids do the same. Sure, many of these women pick up the tab for the treatments as a "gift" to their wedding party. As one bride explained, botox or a face-lift represents a more tangible and permanent token of appreciation than an engraved pill box or piece of jewelry. Nevertheless, not all bridesmaids are amused or amenable to such requests. One potential bridesmaid, for example, refused to follow a bride's request for all of her bridesmaids to have breast augmentation surgery performed by a California doctor who offered to operate on four women for the price of two!Although a day at a spa or salon seems pretty standard pre-wedding fare these days, cosmetic surgery and botox are symptomatic of the wedding industry having lost its way in the desire to increase profits. Are we really that shallow? Have we elevated the wedding ceremony itself to the level of a Broadway musical or Hollywood movie requiring a director, producer, lighting crew, and set director? And couldn't that money be better spent - perhaps on a down payment for a home? Moreover, in a period of economic crisis, this kind of spending on wedding frippery just seems irresponsible, like a Gilded Age soiree. What's next - tummy tucks and botox for the grooms and groomsmen?
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Max Beckmann at the Neue Galerie
Walking by a news stand yesterday I noticed the cover of The New York Sun with German painter Max Beckmann staring out from his 1938 work, "Self-Portrait with Horn." Beckmann, one of the most important Weimar artists - along with Otto Dix and other contemporaries among German Expressionist painters - will be featured in a new show at the Neue Galerie. As I read the article about the show and Beckmann's career,I realized that there were some apparent parallels between the experiences of these German painters and the anti-intellectualism described in Susan Jacoby's The Age of American Unreason.First, understand that Beckmann, like most avant-garde artists in Weimar Germany, faced persecution after the rise of the Nazis in the 1930s. In fact, by 1937 Hitler had declared all modern art as "degenerate." The Nazis even created a special Munich show of what they called "Degenerate Art" (Entartete Kunst) in 1937 - an exhibit that included six Max Beckmann paintings. In terms of the cultural expressions of German nationalism, Hitler and the Nazis hated all aspects of modernity and abstraction, preferring a romanticized heroic realism that often resembled the Socialist Realism of the Soviet Union during the same period. Artists were jailed, their works seized and destroyed, or they fled the country like Beckmann, who went to Holland in 1937 and moved to the U.S. after the war.
I mention Susan Jacoby's recent book because her description of the anti-intellectualism of evangelical conservatives and their rejection of modernity and its cultural expressions - as well as nostalgia for an idealized past - reminds me of the Nazis. Although the religious right has had only limited success with more overt forms of censorship, their considerable influence in the Republican party agenda has contributed to conservatives' efforts to effectively cripple the National Endowment for the Arts and the National Endowment of the Humanities since the 1990s. Of course, their assault on reason and modernity goes beyond art, as demonstrated in their attempts to stifle the teaching of evolution in public schools and their rejection of the science behind concerns about global warming and climate change. But in the arts, from painting to music and film, the religious right mirrors the suspicion and scorn exhibited by the fascists of the 1930s. Artistic modernism, according to the "religious right," is identified as a product of liberalism and moral lassitude, in much the same way it heralded Weimar defeatism and Jewish degeneracy to the Nazis.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
July 4th
On July 4th many families barbecue, attend parades, doze by the pool, and eventually "oohh" and "aahh" over fireworks at the end of the day. But do we really celebrate our "independence" or the events that precipitated that struggle and its result? I'm guessing that for many apathetic Americans the occasion seems little different from Memorial Day or Labor Day: it's a day off from work. And this year the holiday offered the additional reward of a long weekend and the opportunity to take a mini-vacation - if one could afford the gas!
Based on recent surveys of Americans' knowledge of their own history, I suspect that most of the barbecuers and beach goers possess a minuscule understanding of what actually happened in Philadelphia over two centuries ago. In fact, thanks to poorly taught history and the persistence of popular historical myths, people are more likely to believe in an apocryphal vision of George Washington, the Declaration of Independence, and the Revolution, borne of a Parson Weems tale. (The fact of Americans' ignorance about history doesn't surprise me. According to a National Science Foundation survey, one out of five Americans still believes that the sun revolves around the earth. So much for Copernicus!) The apotheosis of Washington and the "Founding Fathers" was a popular exercise for 19th century authors looking for validation of the country's republican experiment - at a time when survival of that republic was hardly assured.
Unfortunately a similar canonization of that revolutionary generation has occurred in the last decade, as the "religious right" has tried to equate patriotism with religious faith, while hailing Washington and his peers as paragons of Christian service. And like anxious Whigs and Jacksonians who feared the divisive effects of sectionalism, evangelical conservatives now believe the nation is under assault from terrorists and liberals. On July 4th I saw a man sporting a t-shirt with red, white, and blue letters proclaiming "JesUSAves," as if Jesus and the iconic figure of Uncle Sam had lain in the same manger in Bethlehem! Sure, one can observe an obvious religious undercurrent in the founding - and peopling - of the United States. However, a dubious Puritan legacy notwithstanding, the "founding fathers" seemed less concerned with their faith than with commercial matters and the distribution of power between the states and the new federal government. Their generalized encomiums to god more precisely reflected a pluralistic vision sired by Enlightenment rationalism and its deistic notions. Conservative misappropriation of our history's lessons, and its revision for divisive purposes, conversely reflects the base anti-intellectualism and fear-mongering that under girds the false patriotism so immodestly on display in the post-9/11 world.
And what did our family do on July 4th?? Like so many Americans we ate and played, scarcely acknowledging the national birthday. We gathered en masse at a cousin's home on Virginia's Eastern Shore and enjoyed a seafood feast at the little Methodist church in which my father was raised. It was their 120th year of serving a dinner on Independence Day. And when it came to the crab cakes and clam fritters I definitely indulged in the sin of gluttony. It was sooooooooo good. No doubt my arteries were asking for absolution at the end of the day. The photos are just a few from the day's events. I'll post more tomorrow.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Bush League
Two articles in the New York Times this week continue the process of revealing the corruption and ignorance that have guided the Bush administration's disastrous policy in Iraq. First, testimony from the former Pentagon official who oversaw the government's contract with KBR (Kellogg, Brown, and Root), suggests he was removed from his post because he acted as a whistleblower by questioning $1 billion in charges. It should be noted that Houston-based KBR, which provides food and housing to U.S. military personnel in Iraq, was a subsidiary of Halliburton, for which Dick Cheney had once served as CEO. Henry Waxman, chairman of the House Oversight and Government Reform Committee, notes that this situation “is startling, and it confirms the committee’s worst fears. KBR has repeatedly gouged the taxpayer, and the Bush administration has looked the other way every time.” It also provides ammunition for critics who have charged that KBR has benefited significantly (upwards of $20 billion thus far) from its close relationship with Bush. The article ( "Army Overseer Tells of Ouster Over KBR Stir") provides startling details on how KBR executives had easy access to key Defense Department and White House figures to effectively circumvent the oversight process. Corruption between contractors and the government during wartime is hardly a new problem. However, this administration has made cronyism a spectator sport when it comes to handing out lucrative government contracts.Even more troubling is news of a security agreement that the White House is pressuring Iraq to sign by July 31st. According to an op-ed piece in the Times, "the 'strategic alliance' that President Bush is proposing eerily resembles, in spirit and in letter, a failed 1930 treaty between Britain and Iraq that prompted a nationalist eruption in Baghdad, a pro-Nazi military coup and a pogrom that foreshadowed the elimination of Baghdad’s ancient Jewish community." Is this administration so ignorant of history or so unrealistically idealistic that it thinks this "alliance" will produce positive results in a situation already disastrous? The White House obviously doesn't want Congress to debate - or vote - on the agreement's merits because they've crafted it in such a way to avoid the usual channels of Senate treaty ratification. Technically, it isn't a treaty. The Times concludes that "rarely has the proverb about repeating history been more vividly signaled." If the Iraqis approve this alliance, the U.S. should be prepared to deal with the potentially horrific results in the coming years. While the British found that they could not control the situation during the 1930s, Iraq is certainly a more volatile environment now than it was then. Sure, we may not witness a pro-Nazi military coup or anti-Jewish pogrom similar to the 1930s. Nevertheless, we can be certain that no good will come of it, nor will the Iraqi people accept treatment as a quasi-colonial state.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
St. Willis
I'd like to suggest the canonization of Willis Carrier, the engineer credited with inventing modern air conditioning. Like the rest of the East Coast, New York City has just emerged from an unusually early heat wave with high temperatures and brutal humidity that's typically experienced in August, when the City becomes a ghost town inhabited by tourists and those unable to take vacations. Add the heated sidewalks and buildings to the mix and we have a perfect environment for sauna-like conditions. Under these circumstances I'm eternally grateful to Mr. Carrier because I just don't fare well in the heat. Thankfully I sit in an air-conditioned office (with a remote control for the unit!) and go home to an air-conditioned apartment. The subway platforms can be brutal, but at least the cars are cooled. I've visited the NYC Transit Museum in Brooklyn and stepped on to the old cars that only had ceiling fans. I break into a sweat just thinking about how hot those cars must have been. Indeed, it's hard to imagine what it must have been like in years before air conditioning became a nearly universal amenity in this country. It was regarded as a luxury, something reserved for theaters, hospitals, hotels, and the wealthy. In some cases it was even regarded as a sign of waste, weakness, and frivolous consumption through what I guess we could call a "real men use fans" mentality.Garrison Keillor raises this issue in Lake Wobegon Days, pointing out that during his youth the one resident in town who had an air conditioner was regarded with suspicion and deemed "uppity" by neighbors. I remember thinking that some of my friends' families must have been "richer" than us because they had centrally air-conditioned homes. It was an expensive luxury that we didn't have. In fact, our family didn't have AC until the early 1970s, when my parents bought a large window unit and installed it upstairs. They'd supplement it with fans to distribute the cool air between the four bedrooms. Several years later they finally purchased another unit for the kitchen. Although I don't really recall being ridiculously hot, I'm sure as a compulsive complainer I voiced my displeasure with the temperature in my bedroom. I also remember retreating to the kitchen and sleeping on a cot when the upstairs machine would decide to quit.
Now, of course, they have central air - installed after my brother and I had left home! With high-end storm windows and doors the place seems almost hermetically sealed, isolated from the outside environment like a space station or underwater lab. One expects a whoosh! of air when opening a door as if passing through an airlock. Sure, I'm exaggerating, but the experience underscores the extent to which air conditioning has isolated us from our neighbors and communities. We're sealed away in these artificial environments, venturing from home to car to mall to car and back home again. Yes, we're more comfortable, more productive, and, for people with breathing issues, probably healthier. But did we lose a part of ourselves with the advent of air conditioning? Was it worth it?
Nearly twenty-five years ago historian Raymond Arsenault wrote a groundbreaking article for The Journal of Southern History entitled "The End of the Long Hot Summer: The Air Conditioner and Southern Culture" (Nov. 1984). It would be easy to take for granted the impact of this ubiquitous machine. But as Arsenault pointed out, the effect of air conditioning was monumental. It encouraged in-migration to the South and spurred the population explosion of the Sun Belt. It also proved a stimulus to industrial output and economic growth with the cooling of factories and offices. Air conditioning even altered the architectural landscape, with homes losing their large windows, transoms, and substantial porches. The cooled environment also made possible the construction of a large-scale suburban South. In the end, Professor Arsenault concludes, it "weakened the bond between humanity and the natural environment." Nevertheless, I'll stick with air conditioning when it's necessary and open the windows when it's possible.
Monday, June 9, 2008
Campaign Overload (and a dose of flowers)
Is anyone else out there sick of the presidential campaign? The election is five months away and I'm already over it. The Obama-Clinton melee was bad enough, and for those of us who claim allegiance to the Democratic party, painful to watch. Just as the party should have been uniting in its excoriation of the Bush administration, it bloodied itself in a costly battle of egos and overspending. As for "McBush," his rightward drift from a moderate Republican record simply reflects his desperate attempts to pander to the more conservative wing of his party. Given his recent behavior, it's clear that a vote for McCain would prove the equivalent of handing Bush a third term - a disastrous prospect for this country. And although Obama's election would herald a paradigm shift in the American political landscape - while injecting a much-needed shot of JFK-like youthfulness and enthusiasm - there is no guarantee that he can reverse the treacherous course plotted by Bush. Indeed, I'm concerned that an Obama administration would resemble that of Jimmy Carter - characterized by an earnest desire to effect change but hindered by the bureaucratic and ideological roadblocks that define politics inside the Beltway. The bottom line, unfortunately, is the reality that the next four or even eight years will not right the wrongs of Bush's two terms of damaging - and unconstitutional - policies.
Perhaps as the election nears I'll become more eager to follow the campaign. I'm keenly interested, for example, in the vice presidential choices. Both candidates will need to choose a running mate who can deliver either a key state or critical bloc of voters. For McCain, that may mean selecting someone who can satisfy the now lukewarm right wing of the Republican party. With an Obama/Clinton ticket out of the question, Obama will have to find a running mate who can deliver some of the constituencies to which Hillary appealed, especially organized labor. We can only hope that undecided voters in both camps will be so fed up with Bush, and insecure with the prospect of continuing his policies under McCain, that they'll vote for change in November.
About the flowers: The digitalis (or Foxglove) is part of an apartment building's garden on 9th Street in the East Village. The climbing roses anchor the wrought-iron fence that surrounds the Jefferson Market Garden on Greenwich Avenue in the West Village. It's huge and is much larger than this photo suggests. Also note that in some spots there's a purple clematis vine growing through the rose, offering a nice contrast to the very subtle pink of this climber.
Perhaps as the election nears I'll become more eager to follow the campaign. I'm keenly interested, for example, in the vice presidential choices. Both candidates will need to choose a running mate who can deliver either a key state or critical bloc of voters. For McCain, that may mean selecting someone who can satisfy the now lukewarm right wing of the Republican party. With an Obama/Clinton ticket out of the question, Obama will have to find a running mate who can deliver some of the constituencies to which Hillary appealed, especially organized labor. We can only hope that undecided voters in both camps will be so fed up with Bush, and insecure with the prospect of continuing his policies under McCain, that they'll vote for change in November.About the flowers: The digitalis (or Foxglove) is part of an apartment building's garden on 9th Street in the East Village. The climbing roses anchor the wrought-iron fence that surrounds the Jefferson Market Garden on Greenwich Avenue in the West Village. It's huge and is much larger than this photo suggests. Also note that in some spots there's a purple clematis vine growing through the rose, offering a nice contrast to the very subtle pink of this climber.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Bush Science
An editorial in yesterday's New York Times highlights another example of the Bush administration's negligent anti-intellectualism and short-sightedness, this time in its subversion of science for political ends. In this case, the White House has censored government agencies and scientists who might sound the alarm about the impact of global warming. As the Times points out, "the Bush administration has worked overtime to manipulate or conceal scientific evidence — and muzzled at least one prominent scientist — to justify its failure to address climate change. Its motives were transparent: the less people understood about the causes and consequences of global warming, the less they were likely to demand action from their leaders."
The reality that politics and science behave like conjoined twins is hardly a new development in history. Politics and warfare have likely done more to push science forward than any other force. In the U.S., for example, Thomas Jefferson surely possessed a genuine interest in the specimens and data delivered by the Lewis and Clark expedition. Indeed, he was likely the most scientifically inclined president in our history. Nevertheless, he also understood the political ramifications of sending American explorers into territory that fell beyond the boundaries of the recently acquired Louisiana Purchase.
Additionally, few of us would deny the obvious connection between politics and the "space race" of the 1960s and 70s. John F. Kennedy's idealism and enthusiasm notwithstanding, competition with the Soviet Union drove the United States and NASA to the moon. But if fear of Soviet control of space helped lift Saturn V rockets from the launch platforms of Florida, the effort ultimately spurred an era of positive innovation that lasted long after the last Apollo astronauts returned from the moon.
In the case of the Bush administration, however, politics has had a negative impact, hindering scientific inquiry and education. As a result, the U.S. now lags behind much of the world in addressing the global warming crisis. Rather than tapping into our legacy as a nation committed to innovation, the country now seems content in its inertia, thanks to the perfidy of the White House. As the Times concludes: "This administration long ago secured a special place in history for bending science to its political ends. One costly result is that this nation has lost seven years in a struggle in which time is not on anyone’s side."
The reality that politics and science behave like conjoined twins is hardly a new development in history. Politics and warfare have likely done more to push science forward than any other force. In the U.S., for example, Thomas Jefferson surely possessed a genuine interest in the specimens and data delivered by the Lewis and Clark expedition. Indeed, he was likely the most scientifically inclined president in our history. Nevertheless, he also understood the political ramifications of sending American explorers into territory that fell beyond the boundaries of the recently acquired Louisiana Purchase.
Additionally, few of us would deny the obvious connection between politics and the "space race" of the 1960s and 70s. John F. Kennedy's idealism and enthusiasm notwithstanding, competition with the Soviet Union drove the United States and NASA to the moon. But if fear of Soviet control of space helped lift Saturn V rockets from the launch platforms of Florida, the effort ultimately spurred an era of positive innovation that lasted long after the last Apollo astronauts returned from the moon.
In the case of the Bush administration, however, politics has had a negative impact, hindering scientific inquiry and education. As a result, the U.S. now lags behind much of the world in addressing the global warming crisis. Rather than tapping into our legacy as a nation committed to innovation, the country now seems content in its inertia, thanks to the perfidy of the White House. As the Times concludes: "This administration long ago secured a special place in history for bending science to its political ends. One costly result is that this nation has lost seven years in a struggle in which time is not on anyone’s side."
Monday, June 2, 2008
Roses in Bloom
I was once admonished, "You can't have roses and children too." With hybrid tea varieties that's probably true. Many of them have been so overbred that they're more susceptible to the various maladies to which roses can succumb. Unfortunately the "size matters" mentality has made hybrid teas the stars of many gardens, despite problems with blackspot, thrips, rust, powdery mildew and aphids. I find older roses just as beautiful as the newer varieties. They tend to retain a weather hardiness and disease resistance not often found in the more recent hybrids. It's no surprise, therefore, that "old garden roses" have made a comeback in recent years. And thanks to business like the Antique Rose Emporium in Texas, many of those varieties are now available again. (When I grew roses in Tennessee, I often ordered from this company and always had good luck.) Granted, many older varieties are once-bloomers, which no doubt deters those customers who prefer several blooming cycles over the summer season. Layering one's garden with flowers that bloom at different times over several months, however, is a classic way to deal with that issue. The best botanical gardens, for example, often design their flower displays in this fashion.
Here are a few roses I ran across over the weekend. I don't know the varieties, although I suspect the yellow rose is a "Graham Thomas," an early example of the David Austin series of hybrids.
Here are a few roses I ran across over the weekend. I don't know the varieties, although I suspect the yellow rose is a "Graham Thomas," an early example of the David Austin series of hybrids.
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