Saturday, October 09, 2004

R.I.P., Jacques

Jacques Derrida (July 15, 1930 - October 9, 2004)

Jacques Derrida, one of France's most famous philosophers, has died at the age of 74, it has been announced.

Derrida died in a Paris hospital on Friday night, news agency AFP reported. He suffered from pancreatic cancer.

The Algerian-born philosopher is best known for his "deconstruction theory" - unpicking the way text is put together in order to reveal its hidden meanings. [ed. BAH! You can always count on the British press to write about that which they don't understand.]

Fellow academics have charged that Derrida's writings "deny distinction between reality and fiction". [ed. Many 'fellow academics' who made such a charge, I might point out, never actually read much of Derrida, save for the scare quotes in various monographs about his work.]

Derrida is one of the most influential philosophers of the late 20th Century.

In his long career, he taught at the Sorbonne and at several American universities.

[. . .]

Jacques Derrida also campaigned for the rights of immigrants in France, against apartheid in South Africa, and in support of dissidents in communist Czechoslovakia.

He was so influential that lat year a film was made about his life - a biographical documentary.

At one point, wandering through Derrida's library, one of the filmmakers asks him: "Have you read all the books in here?"

"No," he replies impishly, "only four of them. But I read those very, very carefully".

This is quite sad. According to those I know who knew him pretty well, Derrida was wonderfully kind and generous. Disagree with him all you will -- and believe me, I do -- but few have ever faulted the grace with which he lived and worked. He will be remembered and honored ... and not just in the cottage industry of academic and artistic tributes that will inevitably follow in the next year or so.

Rest in peace, Jacques. We hardly knew ya ... and even those that did, rarely understood ya ... but for those of us who 'got it', we'll never be the same. For a fabulous series of links to his writings online, as well as a couple of pieces about him (J. Caputo's is quite nice, even if I disagree with it), see wood s lot.

UPDATE: I've added several links since I first posted this.

Peer Pressure

Everybody else I know with a blog is talking about the debates, so I guess I ought to throw in my two cents, too. Just watched the tape of it, and, while I obviously agreed more with Kerry's take on things, I think it'll come down to a draw. Once Bush took a chill pill, after Kerry smacked him down about the size of the coalition in Iraq, he was, for him, clear and to the point. Damn near lucid. From a brief look at the editorials, though, his deeply unhinged first thirty minutes may take center stage. To counter this, Bush will almost surely start throwing like mad the 'John Kerry = Liberal' tag from now until November. His campaign is no stranger to decontextualization, so doing so will be very easy. Debate no. 3, for that very reason, might be a problem for Kerry. For his part, Kerry was much the same as he was in the first debate. I don't think he did much to shoot himself in the foot, and may've even been a bit more appealing to Independents and women. I will be surprised if this debate gains Bush more votes than it possibly might for Kerry.

The real winners of the debate, ideally, are all those undecided voters out there. If you can't find the pertinent differences in the candidates through this debate, then I'm not sure what will do the trick. If it is less about identifying their respective differences, and more about the fact that neither candidate represents your view of the world in full, then I invite you to a mental exercise.

First, identify that issue which is most important to you in the election (foreign policy, gay marriage, abortion, taxes, etc.), pull it aside for a moment and look at the remaining issues.

Second, walk through the remaining issues one at a time, Googling where necessary, and determine which candidate best represents your view / attitude to each particular issue, based upon the incumbent's record (very important, that) and the contender's, and his party's, perspective. If you find choosing one or the other difficult, place yourself on a spectrum between the two candidates. The important thing, of course, is not to simply parrot the opposite party's perspective of its opponent. Rather, when it comes to Bush's record, try to focus on what appears to you as the real implications and results of his administration thus far, and compare with Kerry's criticisms; as for Kerry's perspective of the world and American policy, i.e., what he thinks ought to be done, look at his proposals and decide how or if they jive with what you believe is best. The point is not simply to try to find the truth laying behind a policy, a ticklish search that often tends to say more about your sources than it does about the truth itself, but to find the spirit in which said policy is enacted or proposed. It's not that reality or facts don't matter -- this isn't some exercise in relativism, mind -- but just that we ought first to be self-conciously aware of the individual and collective perspectives from which this sort of truth, be it about ourselves or the world around us, is embodied -- emerges, lives, and breathes.

Third, and finally, as a kind of type-breaker question look at that issue that you pulled aside, that which is most important to you, and ask (aloud if necessary): 'When looking at the other issues, it would appear that __________ best represents me and my perspective? However, with regard to my most important issue, do I think this candidate will fuck things up any worse than they already are? Yes or No.' And leave it at that. Don't worry if Bush or Kerry, depending on whom the other issues show more to represent you and your perspective, will make this important issue go away, or solve it, or keep it safe. Just focus on whether or not you suspect their presence and policies in the White House will fuck things up even more they probably already are, supporting your answer with a short explanation. If you can only sincerely and coherently answer 'yes' to this final question, in such a way that makes sense to you on either an emotional, spiritual, or intellectual level, then, yes, you have a problem, and I can only suggest you remain undecided and keep repeating until November 2. Otherwise, hell, shit or get off the pot.

UPDATE: I edited this post a bit since first publishing it, to make the general point a bit more clear.

Friday, October 08, 2004

'Where ya been?'

I've gotten a few emails lately wondering where I've been. Friends who normally see me online, and people who expect at least one post a week, have begun to think I've fallen prey to some Belgian evil. No, nothing like that. It's just that, well, the internet has become a bit boring to me this week. I think I hit a certain wall when it came to election coverage, and then for every minute I spent downloading funny videos instead, I was wracked with ten minutes of guilt for not doing something a bit more productive. So, instead, I've been reading Paradise Lost, which I had somehow managed thus far in my life to never even open, alongside my advisor's latest book The Sacred Desert. Both have kept me on my toes as much as they've kept me off the internet for hours untold. Neither, though, have given me much to blog about. For fear of boring an already slightly alienated blog audience, I thought I'd leave you wanting something, if not necessarily more.

My blogging to-do list:

(1) I've promised Pat a follow-up post to this one, and had actually hoped to get that done this week. Next week, Pat, I promise. I need to have something to say at a conference on the same topic in a couple of weeks anyway, so I'll use you all as my guinea pigs.

(2) Additionally, if time and desire allows, I'll talk about the ideas of 'freedom' & 'democracy' (in Iraq, and elsewhere), and how the world's reception of the late capitalist logic of these terms / concepts is the real backdrop of the so-called 'clash of civilizations' they purportedly represent (i.e., that between, for instance, the liberal, Christian West and the fundamentalist, Muslim East). The idea is not nearly as wanky as it sounds.

Anyway, we'll see. If you're interested in either, stay tuned. Otherwise, I'll be sure to provide sufficient political, literary and just downright silly buffer posts. In the meantime, I'm gonna go back to downloading slightly dirty videos and wishful thinking about tonight's debate.

Laughing 'Till It Hurts

Oh man ... this is hilarious.

Thursday, September 30, 2004

I, For One, Would Not Want My Testicles Shocked Anywhere But America

Giblets, as normal, is right! The torturers of America are a sturdy lot, but they have families and needs too; as such, on behalf of their lack of organized union, I want to join the mass of patriots imploring the United State Congress to keep those valuable torture jobs IN AMERICA. After all, in America we realize that the rule of law need never get in the way of the rule of law. No! The proposed outsourcing of torture must be stopped. Partisanship should not divide us on this very serious issue. Will somebody please think of the children!!?? The children!!

For a more serious post on this issue -- and yes, it is a very serious issue -- see Obsidian Wings.

Wednesday, September 29, 2004

A Personal Request

As most of you know, I occasionally have to use Silentio as my own personal noteboard for friends. I try to limit it, but some things take precedence over another political or philosophical harangue. Agreed?

Where was I? Ah yes. Brad P., if you're still out there, this is directed to you. Why, oh why, do the emails I send you via Yahoo return to me as unsendable, but the ones sent via AOL do not? Is one blocked and the other not? If so, can you maybe switch it the other way around. Finally, after years of saying I was going to do so, I've dropped AOL -- as it has not really been my ISP for a couple of years now, and just a really expensive email program. The address is baj75-at-yahoo.com. (Yes, I'm being really paranoid with spam and email lately.)

Never A Dull Moment in Rural Belgium

One of the good things about spending the last month in Belgium is that, because I've already sent all my notes and manuscripts to the States, there has been loads of time for recreational reading. The first couple of weeks here gave me a chance to re-read Cormac McCarthy's Border Trilogy, which in turn gave me the idea to outline a future paper / lecture on the philosophy of femininity and chaos, as well as the 'sacramental' value of stories. I can one not like passages like this?

Acts have their being in the witness. Without him who can speak of it? In the end one could even say that the act is nothing, the witness all. It may be that the old man saw certain contradictions in his position. If men were the drones he imagined them to be then had he not rather been appointed to take up his brief by the very Being against whom it was directed? As has been the case with many a philosopher that which at first seemed an insurmountable objection to his theories came gradually to be seen as a necessary component to them and finally the centerpiece itself. He saw the world pass into nothing in the very multiplicity of its instancing. Only the witness stood firm. And the witness to that witness. For what is deeply true is true also in men's hearts and it can therefore never be mistold through all and any tellings. This then was his thought. If the world was a tale who but the witness could give it life? Where else could it have its being? This was the view of things that began to speak to him. And he began to see in God a terrible tragedy. That the existence of the Deity lay imperiled for want of this simple thing. That for God there could be no witness. Nothing against which He terminated. Nothing by way of which his being could be announced to Him. Nothing to stand apart from and say I am this and that is other. Where that is I am not. He could create everything save that which would say him no.

[. . .]

What the priest saw at last was that the lesson of a life can never be its own. Only the witness has power to take its measure. It is lived for the other only. The priest therefore saw what the anchorite could not. That God needs no witness. Neither to Himself nor against. The truth is rather that if there were no God then there could be no witness for there could be no identity to the world but only each man's opinion of it. The priest saw that there is no man who is elect because there is no man who is not. To God every man is a heretic. The heretic's first act is to name his brother. So that he may step free of him. Every word we speak is a vanity. Every breath taken that does not bless is an affront. Bear closely with me now. There is another who will hear what you never spoke. Stones themselves are made of air. What they have power to crush never lived. In the end we shall all of us be only what we have made of God. For nothing is real save his grace.

After that I skimmed through some stuff that resembled research, with which I will not bore you, but eventually found time to read the copy of Zadie Smith's White Teeth that had been sitting on my shelf in Glasgow for half a year. Now, The Border Trilogy is far and away the better book -- well, three books -- but Zadie Smith's book still ripples with absolutely delightful, hilarious characters, and a zestful storytelling that you simply do not want to end. Now that I think about it, considering the end of the book, which I did not like as much as the rest, maybe Smith herself didn't quite want it to end. Her prose doesn't strike me with the philosophical force of McCarthy's, though that of few authors do, but there were some instances of especially lovely writing. For example:

It's a funny thing about the modern world. You hear girls in the toilets of clubs saying, 'Yeah, he fucked off and left me. He didn't love me. He just couldn't deal with love. He was too fucked up to know how to love me.' Now, how did that happen? What was it about this unlovable century that convinced us we were, despite everything, eminently lovable as a people, as a species? What made us think that anyone who fails to love us is damaged, lacking, malfunctioning in some way? And particularly if they replace us with a god, or a weeping madonna, or the face of Christ in a ciabatta roll -- then we call them crazy. Deluded. Regressive. We are so convinced of the goodness of ourselves, and the goodness of our love, we cannot bear to believe that there might be something more worthy of love than us, more worthy of worship. Greeting cards routinely tell us everybody deserves love. No. Everybody deserves clean water. Not everybody deserves love all the time.

Yes, quite.

Does anybody have any book recommendations for my final few weeks here in Belgium?

Tuesday, September 28, 2004

A Warning

We don't get loads of comments 'round here, but a quick warning for those who may wish to do so. I just noticed that I'm getting hit quite a bit by commenting spam, or so it seems, which may very well record your email address if you leave it. Don't know how these things work. My recommendation, leave your name (sans email). If anybody has any thoughts about how I might clean up the comments, I'm all ears.

Monday, September 27, 2004

Hip Hip .... Hurray!

I don't know how often Silentio's own basketball-loving guest blogger of old visits, he being the one who tires of my political and philosophical persuasions the quickest, (yes, I realize that is a very bold statement, considering the competition), but I cannot resist the opportunity, while the thought strikes me, to congratulate him for finally getting gainful employment that doesn't consist of daily worries about the influence of Wal-Mart on business. Kudos, my good man. You've earned the box of chocolates I bought for you today.

Sunday, September 26, 2004

The Interview, It Looms

As many of you know, K. and I have been toiling away these last few months with getting her an immigrant visa to the United States. Well, it looks like the final hurdle is before us. We go to Brussels on Monday afternoon for her climactic interview, where all of our papers are examined, our love life dissected, and our devotion to America questioned. Keep your fingers crossed!

Update: Your fingers came through! Who knew the power they had? Despite forgetting the $335 fee for this stage of the visa process, having to hurry back home -- missing her train to Brussels in the process -- and being the very last person in line for today's series of applications, K. is now the proud holder of a United States provisional visa. She'll have the full story up on her blog soon, I'm sure.

That Devilish Detail

There's a little meme going out around right now exhorting Kerry supporters to recite the reasons black people, in particular, should vote for Kerry. More to the point, they wish us to consider the reasons why black people should, in fact, vote for Bush. As with most partisan talking points, even my own -- when I am straining to be lucid -- is usually very nice indeed. I know some people, example, for whom Clinton could've even used getting an illicit blowjob as a means to get more votes! So the cliche goes, the devil is in the details. Or something like that. Anyway, the reasons for black people to vote for Bush are as follows:

1. Black child poverty hit all-time low (30%), and remains near the low.

And yet ... And yet. Even if one were to agree with the Heritage Institute, the Welfare reform came during Clinton's watch, and was one that (I think) Kerry supports / supported.

2. Small Business Administration loans to black entrepreneurs up 75%

And yet ... And yet.

3. Black homeownership rate at all-time high (49.3%)

Surely, they're getting the same loan rate, right?

4. Increased funds to historically black colleges 30%

Ah, but those devilish details strike again and again.

5. Increased AIDS funds in Africa

Maybe a lot of black folk can see through the headlines.

6. Increased funds for diabetes research (diabetes disproportionately affects blacks).

I really don't know too much about this, to be honest. I think you're giving loads of possibly unwarranted credit to the GOP when you think they're increasing funding for the sake, specifically, of diabetic black people, but I can see its appeal.

7. Faith-based initiative provides grants to community-based churches to run social services.

I know a lot of people disagree on this whole faith-based initative thing. Some think it is revolutionary, others dismiss it as simply removing a little bit of red tape so religious organizations can get access to funds they already, technically, had access. The real debate, however, comes down to whether or not it ends up privileging religious belief; and if so, how. Is this representative? -- you be the judge.

8. Expanded Africa Growth and Opportunity Act to increase African goods access to U.S. consumer market.

Really now?

9. More blacks appointed to Cabinet positions - many in non-traditional roles - than any president in U.S. history.

I actually agree with this one. Hopefully it'll go a long way to reversing a really bad historical trend.

10. School vouchers options in No Child Left Behind legislation (last Joint Center for Political and Economic Studies survey shows 57% of blacks support school vouchers).

I remain, for the most part, agnostic about school vouchers. For now, though, Kevin Drum's thinking on this remains pretty definitive for me.

11. Eliminated marriage penalty tax (which disproportionately affected married blacks because each spouse was likelier to earn similar income).

As a newly married man I can but say, Bravo!!! Although, I do remember this being a part of a stimulus plan, right? White and black unemployed alike felt greatly stimulated, I'm sure.

Now, all that said, I've obviously not accepted the challenge and addressed the reasons why black people should support Kerry. Quite honestly, I still have trouble formulating reasons myself, and my whiteness is that of old marble. (Though, really, if I were to come up with one, it would be abortion rights. But, hey.) Be that as it may, maybe Prometheus 6 is right:

From a Black partisan perspective I have no reason to vote for either candidate. Bush has had four years to actually attend to the Black constituencies in any way and hasn't even tried. Nevermind the problems in the national platform ... The national platform isn't in perfect accord with the Religious Right. But the throws them an abortion bone. It's not in accord with the NRA platform, but he throws them an assault weapon bone. It's not is accord with the Israel lobby but he throws them a spy bone. It's not in accord with fiscal conservatives, but he throws them a tax cut bone.

Bush don't throw Black folks bones. He says, "Oh yeah, if you can get there you can have some too." That's not the standard that lets you say you've done something for someone. I'll say Bush has done something for Black folks when he start throwing them bones our way.

Kerry has no record with the Black communities; I can't speak to any history to be pleased or displeased with. Bush's history I'm displeased with.

Black partisan views effectively removed from consideration I'm left with looking at what Bush has done ... and that assessment has to include a judgment of whether he gives his real reasons or acting. If he doesn't, I can't trust him, end of story.

Then I look at what must be done and the likelihood of either candidate even seeing it much less acting on it. Because Kerry is capable of examining his positions and adjusting his actions to meet changing conditions, he is the better of the two from the outlook of a generalized American.

Tuesday, September 14, 2004

Of Children & Innocence

As I was telling a friend last night, I have a tendency to treat my thesis -- especially the footnotes -- as a means to think things through, not necessarily to assert something I really believe or, for that matter, to prove a point being footnoted. (My advisors tend to have a whole drawer filled with red pens, to mark out such 'self-indulgences' and scold me for not 'keeping to the point'. Blah blah blah.) For instance, yesterday I found myself doing a lot of thinking about the recent events in Beslan, specifically what is it about kids getting killed that makes us, most of us anyway, shudder and wring our hands while wondering aloud 'what is the world coming to'?

The most common answers I've received are (a) children are, in general, defenseless; (b) they are less culpable in whatever causes people to kill in the first place; (c) they are generally the fill-ins for a more culpable target that can defend itself; and (d) children are, one can but hope, the only means of changing the situation that causes people to kill. For instance, there is a school of thought -- thought at its most visceral of levels, anyway -- that one is and ought to be more horrified by the children of Beslan dying than, say, the adult Russians killed during the Moscow theatre siege in 2002. Why? Because the children had no means of escape or defense? Perhaps -- although the fact that most of the Russians killed during the siege were killed during the siege itself by Russian soldiers suggests this may not be the case at all. So, maybe not. Perhaps, though, it is because the Russians in the theatre are representative of a Russian electorate that voted for Vladimir Putin, and thus, in the eyes of the Chechen separatists, are reasonable targets. The children, having not voted, are not as cupable by that reasoning, and are but cowardly substitutes. I might be willing to entertain this notion more readily if I were not comfortable with its most obvious implication: that adults of a country deemed oppressive are, in a sense, open game. It is not a mighty leap, it seems, to say that because Al Qaeda, for example, is against America foreign and domestic policy, its liberties, etc., Americans themselves, as long as they are adults, can, in a certain morbid thought experiment, be regarded as legitimate targets.

Alternatively, one might argue that children are not legitimate targets because they are the hope of the future. Killing the world's children is the same was killing the world's future. I'll resist the urge to get philosophical on this point, dabbling in all things existential, because I don't think the point is a philosophical one. It is, rather, a cynical -- though perhaps realistically so -- view of the contemporary world. And just not contemporary in the sense of the twenty-first century; but rather, in the sense of the present in general. The future holds an allure that the present cannot match and that, so one might pray, the past can but point.

Such is the myth of a child's innocence. I don't use 'myth' negatively here. Some myths are true, in the sense that they inform many of the spoken and unspoken assumptions we have about the most fundamental things of life. The notion that you are innocent until proven guilty, for instance, is a myth that (in my mind, legitimately) governs the functioning of our judicial system. A myth need not be true in in the ontological sense, though. If, for example, I have killed my wife, I'm guilty of having killed her even without a judicial system. What our judicial system does is provide a legal category to place the act of killing one's wife along with its official consequences. The myth of a child's innocence seems a bit similar.

A child is innocent, in the sense of having no conscious culpability. But, ontologically, children can be very guilty. A child who bites another child during a playground dispute may not have the proper right-wrong parameters to know that he ought not do that -- though even that is doubtful -- but he by all means is guilty of actually having bitten the kid. To a Palestinean Arab, an Israeli child born in Gaza and the West Bank is probably not regarded as guilty of having consciously chosen to settle there; but she is definitely guilty of actually being there at all. In the sense of the term, guilt can be passed from one generation to another. Maybe there is something to be said for a secular version of original sin.

Remember, though, I'm not arguing this particular point. Not yet anyway. I'm not sure. I'm exploring.

What I'm concerned about, and this is something I throw out for any and all to judge as wanting, is the extent to which the myth of a child's innocence actually perpetuates human suffering. In its assumption of a certain of age of culpability, at which a child is no longer innocent, or less innocent than before, is it possible that we devalue human life itself? In our being more horrified by a three-year-old hostage with a slit throat than we are by a thirty-year-old refugee with a bullet in his head, are we in effect exchanging ethical equality with moral sentimentality? In so doing, are we not saying that because the latter is less innocent than the former, his death is somehow less of a tragedy -- not morally equivalent? If so, what is the calculus to determine our proper response to acts of human suffering? Moreover, if we are without one, when left to our own emotional devices, to what extent do we provide their very sanction?

Friday, September 10, 2004

Morality Vs. Necessity

Man... I wish I were as smart as Timothy Burke. (Though I guess I should should just wish for a little more willingness to sit down and blog! Sorry for the silence lately.) This is one of the best, most reasonable posts re: winning the war on terrorism I've read.

If some people feel uneasy about Kerry, it may be because they feel that Kerry's perspective on international affairs will be governed more by the need to be virtuous than to be effective. I don't think this is a fair reading of Kerry or his team, but it is a fair reading of one major lineage of anti-war sentiment. I think it is important for us to act ethically but not just because that's the right thing to do -- I also think it's the effective thing to do. This is to some extent the accident of this particular struggle. If the war we are now engaged in was a conventional war between two armies battling for the control of territory, and the opportunity to gain an important strategic victory through the use of heavy bombardment even at the cost of civilian lives and property destruction presented itself, I'd say that you go ahead and take the opportunity. That is not what this war is about; that is not the nature of this particular conflict.

You don't bring a knife to a gun fight, and you don't act like a clumsy occupier or New Crusader if what you really need to do is marginalize and contain terrorist groups in Islamic societies. But if the necessary approach happens to also look like the most conventionally moral one, then that's just a fortunate coincidence. In this instance, Vietnam is less the appropriate historical sounding board than Hiroshima. (Not, I hasten to note, because the use of nuclear weapons is advisable in the here and now, merely because of the moral questions that Hiroshima raises about how to conduct warfare.) Hiroshima may not have been the right thing to do, but it was probably the necessary thing to do, or to put it differently, one kind of moral principle trumped another in that decision. Not so absolutely that we can be sure, even now, which was which: it remains, legitimately, a case to debate. But I know how I would want that equation solved myself, and should a similarly tough decision present itself, I know which way I want the painful calculus to go.

At least some critics of the war are more concerned with the promotion of national (or international) virtue, and from collective virtue, their own personal virtue. At least some critics of the war worry more about whether they're personally good people than worry about what is good for the United States and the world. The more that Kerry appears to represent that approach, the more than those who believe that our government must do what is necessary in war will feel uneasy or be unable to support him, regardless of the demonstrated incompetence of the Bush Administration in the actual conduct of post-9/11 world affairs.

That's what the subtext of the absurd battle over who was more manly in 1970 is about: not just who can do the right thing, but the necessary thing. If Kerry can't convince more people that he is ready to do the necessary thing with the hope that it turns out to be the right thing as well, he may lose.

Thursday, September 02, 2004

Who knew!

A little soul searching before I head to bed. Earlier tonight I was talking to a friend about, mostly, chocolate and politics. Somewhere along the way we marvelled at how, despite our profound difference of opinions with regard to both, we could get along rather well -- after which the following exchange occured.

Friend: 'Well, I mostly believe in shades of grey [metaphorically speaking here], but try to situate myself close to either the white or the black. [i.e., I guess, he recognizes ambiguity of issues, but tries to take a stand one way or the other, but does not relegate himself to right/left white/black on all issues.]'

Me: 'I'm not exactly sure where I'd fall on that spectrum.'

Friend: 'Opinion: I think you detest the spectrum entirely, and wish only to destroy it.'

I had no idea I came off so apocalyptic.

Zell's Alternate Universe

I'm not a huge fan of sci-fi, but, wow, Zell Miller really made me want to sit down and write an alternate universe story with him as the lead. The world in which he must live in to deliver his speech said last night (not to mention his sure-to-be classic interview with Chris Matthews -- you must click this, if you've not already seen it) is really very dumbfounding. I'm not entirely sure why it's damning to point out that Kerry's votes against some weapons programs that Cheney pushed hurts his potential as a commander-in-chief; let alone Miller's very bizarre accusation that Kerry wants Paris to guide America's foreign policy, or that freedom of the press was won by soldiers not reporters. Eh? Okayyyy. I really cannot understand why the GOP is finding it difficult to appeal to women. Maybe you just really either have to be or have a dick to be a Republican these days; not sure how I missed the cull on that one. Anyway, Miller could've spoken the gospel truth, and I would've called it shit -- so, don't just take my word for it. As a commenter somewhere suggested: maybe it just reads better in the original German.

Wednesday, September 01, 2004

How Do They Sleep At Night?

The old flat in Glasgow is now vacated, and the mizzus and I have hauled everything we own to Belgium. Exciting times afoot! So exciting, in fact, that I was scouring the internet for news about the Republican Convent at 8.30 am. Hey! Did you know that Kerry might as well call it quits, that he has noooo chance at all, that the polls are all against him in horrible ways, that his campaign is out of touch, that Republicans are actually compassionate after all? Well, if not, don't worry, the American media will surely convince you that neck-and-neck polling is the same as a foregone conclusion, campaign staff additions over the weekend are crisis management, and Republicans are savvy political minds. Rest assured. I can deal with everything but the latter. My stomach turns one more revolution around the tiny stake in my gut each time I'm offered wonderfully helpful behind-the-scenes looks at all the machinations and intentions of an electoral campaign -- what plays where, to whom, why repugnantly medieval theological perspectives are politically viable, etc. Meta-political discourse .... nobody does (and loves every minute of it) it like America. It is, after all, the only way to avoid actually taking a fuckin' stand.

Speaking of American media -- this just makes me want to cry. Where are you Bill Hicks?

"By the way if anyone here is in advertising or marketing... kill yourself. No, no, no it's just a little thought. I'm just trying to plant seeds. Maybe one day, they'll take root - I don't know. You try, you do what you can. Kill yourself. Seriously though, if you are, do. Aaah, no really, there's no rationalisation for what you do and you are Satan's little helpers, Okay - kill yourself - seriously. You are the ruiner of all things good, seriously. No this is not a joke, you're going, "there's going to be a joke coming," there's no fucking joke coming. You are Satan's spawn filling the world with bile and garbage. You are fucked and you are fucking us. Kill yourself. It's the only way to save your fucking soul, kill yourself. Planting seeds. I know all the marketing people are going, "he's doing a joke..." there's no joke here whatsoever. Suck a tail-pipe, fucking hang yourself, borrow a gun from a friend - I don't care how you do it. Rid the world of your evil fucking machinations.

I know what all the marketing people are thinking right now too, "Oh, you know what Bill's doing, he's going for that anti-marketing dollar. That's a good market, he's very smart." Oh man, I am not doing that. You fucking evil scumbags! "Ooh, you know what Bill's doing now, he's going for the righteous indignation dollar. That's a big dollar. A lot of people are feeling that indignation. We've done research - huge market. He's doing a good thing." Godammit, I'm not doing that, you scum-bags! Quit putting a godamm dollar sign on every fucking thing on this planet! "Ooh, the anger dollar. Huge. Huge in times of recession. Giant market, Bill's very bright to do that." God, I'm just caught in a fucking web! "Ooh the trapped dollar, big dollar, huge dollar. Good market - look at our research. We see that many people feel trapped. If we play to that and then separate them into the trapped dollar..." How do you live like that? And I bet you sleep like fucking babies at night, don't you?"

Saturday, August 28, 2004

What If?

I've a friend who is forever harping on and on about Garrison Keillor and incessantly quoting sections from the latest Prairie Home Companion. I've never really been sold on him, to be honest. K. thinks he's not vulgar enough for me, and there may be some truth in that.

Vaara may have changed my mind, though. He's posted a absolutely wonderful exerpt from Keillor's latest book, Homegrown Democrat. It is a must-read. A teaser:

The party of Lincoln and Liberty was transmogrified into the party of hairy-backed swamp developers and corporate shills, faith-based economists, fundamentalist bullies with Bibles, Christians of convenience, freelance racists, misanthropic frat boys, shrieking midgets of AM radio, tax cheats, nihilists in golf pants, brownshirts in pinstripes, sweatshop tycoons, hacks, fakirs, aggressive dorks, Lamborghini libertarians, people who believe Neil Armstrong's moonwalk was filmed in Roswell, New Mexico, little honkers out to diminish the rest of us, Newt's evil spawn and their Etch-A-Sketch president, a dull and rigid man suspicious of the free flow of information and of secular institutions, whose philosophy is a jumble of badly sutured body parts trying to walk. Republicans: The No.1 reason the rest of the world thinks we're deaf, dumb and dangerous.

Keillor then goes on in even more delightful detail. So, yes, by all means read on.

I, of course, agree with him completely. Big surprise, I know. Nevertheless, it got me thinking a very depressing thought. Even most of my somewhat conservatively-inclined friends (yes, there a few) admit that Bush losing would not be the worst thing that could happen to America (or the world, for that matter). Indeed, I suspect there are lots of people on the right who might even prefer he lose, in order that somebody else take the fall for all that he's sown thus far. They will, of course, in the end be absolutely delighted if he wins, but I really don't sense the mass sense of urgency for their man to win that Democrats like Vaara / Keillor / I (et al) do.*

That said, I'm a bit concerned: what with our increasing outrage and activism (all much needed, mind), should we also come up with a contingency plan if things don't work out? Or is this really our make-or-break last stand? If so, terrible thought, is this what revolution has come to in a modern democracy? Or, alternatively, have we set ourselves up for such an apocalyptic denouement in order that we might be able to pat ourselves on our savvy rhetorically-gifted selves and pragmatically say: "Okay, maybe it wasn't THAT bad. But hey!" If we honestly believe the rhetoric, however, what do we do in the event of a loss?

Not sure.

* I am, of course, not referring to certain extreme elements of the Right that truly believe that a non-Bush vote is the same as voting for a fetus-eating lesbian who dares to speak French, and thus MUST be stopped at any and all costs. Their bountiful presence on the internet notwithstanding, they are a minorty worthy only of a minute's pity-scorn usually reserved exclusively for people who call back telemarketers after receiving their message on voice mail.

Tuesday, August 24, 2004

Infuriating

I mentioned yesterday that there were only a few things that I missed about living in the States. I should, to be fair, and I'm nothing if not fair, take the cue from that which I loathe the most about America, its news media and president.

The technique President Bush is using against John F. Kerry was perfected by his father against Michael Dukakis in 1988, though its roots go back at least to Sen. Joseph McCarthy. It is: Bring a charge, however bogus. Make the charge simple: Dukakis "vetoed the Pledge of Allegiance"; Bill Clinton "raised taxes 128 times"; "there are [pick a number] Communists in the State Department." But make sure the supporting details are complicated and blurry enough to prevent easy refutation.

Then sit back and let the media do your work for you. Journalists have to report the charges, usually feel obliged to report the rebuttal, and often even attempt an analysis or assessment. But the canons of the profession prevent most journalists from saying outright: These charges are false. As a result, the voters are left with a general sense that there is some controversy over Dukakis' patriotism or Kerry's service in Vietnam. And they have been distracted from thinking about real issues (like the war going on now) by these laboratory concoctions.

It must be infuriating to the victims of this process to be given conflicting advice about how to deal with it from the same campaign press corps that keeps it going. The press has been telling Kerry: (a) Don't let charges sit around unanswered; and (b) stick to your issues: Don't let the other guy choose the turf.

At the moment, Kerry is being punished by the media for taking advice (b) and failing to take advice (a). There was plenty of talk on TV about what Kerry's failure to strike back said about whether he had the backbone for the job of president -- and even when he did strike back, he was accused of not doing it soon enough. But what does Bush's acquiescence in the use of this issue say about whether he has the simple decency for the job of president? (my emphasis)

The L.A. Times sums it up pretty well here, even if they do give themselves a bit too much of a free pass. Good thing there's E.J. Dionne. (Via Atrios)

Monday, August 23, 2004

The Smell of Pigskin

You know, I've not missed too much about America while living abroad. Sure, at times I crave a quasi-Mexican delight that is really quite bad for me; sometimes, I find myself fondly reminiscing about something as simple as crushed ice from a fridge (water shortage be damned!). But, more than anything else, I've really missed American football, especially of the college variety (past equivalents to slave labor notwithstanding).

I'm one of those people who don't really follow a particular college team, but really just look for good games. This is what I tell myself and others anyway. It's not often that I admit this, but for reasons detailed in this post over at Charlotte Street , for no reason at all, none that is immediately discernible anyway, I'm elated a certain team in the SEC flirts with a .500 record and a crappy bowl named after an even crapper steakhouse.

There are at least two ways of supporting a football team. One is to choose a team, according to success or style of play, or even because "everyone else" does. To my mind this is precisely not supporting a football team, but supporting "success", "popularity" etc. The other way consists in a kind of curse inflicted on one at an early age, a throw of the die that one cannot actually remember but which in any case determines one's allegiance forever. In this second instance, you find yourself wishing you did not support the team in question, you wish you were indifferent to how they are performing, even as your hand reaches for the T.V., just out of curiosity you understand - before curiosity turns to quiet elation or frustrated disappointment. You can tell yourself you are no longer particularly bothered about football, that your choice of this team is in any case arbitrary, that practically none of the players even come from your home town. These nice observations are useless, the protestations in vain, for all are casually refuted when, driving back from a country walk on a Saturday afternoon, you find yourself asking your friend to put the radio on.

In other words: Go 'Cats!

Tuesday, August 17, 2004

Greatest Democracy?

George Monbiot's latest column in today's Guardian, in which he tells us that a vote for Nader is a vote for Ameircan democratisation because, well, near as I can tell this is the only reason Monbiot comes up with, Nader is 'courageous' (i.e., not beholden to the ubiquitous evil of 'THE CORPORATIONS!'), is indicative of the stuff that I hear on a daily basis at the university. There is, of course, no assertion that Nader would actually be a good president, mind you, at least in the traditional sense of getting legislation through the Congressional committees let alone to the floors of the House or Senate; far more important to Monbiot is that the American president be progressively democratic, whatever that means. If that is the case, Mr. Monbiot, forget Nader -- he has nothing on Giblets:

Giblets will not settle for promoting anything as pansy-ass as Democracy! He will not rest until every single country in the world - including countries where are no countries such as Antarctica, Atlantis, and the Moon - into Ultrocracies, democracies so ultra-democratic that the will of the people manifests itself as an immense avatar-being of pure energy that roams around the countryside turning garbage into food and corpses into high-paying private sector jobs!

More to the point, though, what in the world does Monbiot mean when he refers to America as 'the greatest democracy on earth'? Outside of a mere platitude that apparently softens the blow against any American cheek who may be reading the column, how might one justify that claim? It's certainly not that (a) more people are actually involved in the democratic process, or (b) that people are (or feel) better represented by its leaders, than anywhere else in the world. This isn't to say it's any worse, mind you -- certainly we could name several places that are worse on the democratisation spectrum that Monbiot seems to have in mind. But is America REALLY a better representation of the democratic process than, for instance, the Netherlands, or Belgium, or even Britain? Wouldn't it be a far more poignant column to say, for example, Americans have effectively demolished their own democratic ideals by not caring, by being too stupid, by being too lazy, by working too hard, etc., and let 'THE CORPORATIONS' take control of their country? That they, not simply the politicans, are to blame. (This line of reasoning is most often heard when dining or drinking in Western Europe.) Or, perhaps even more poignant, to say that democracy as such is in dire straits worldwide, that the situation in America is only the most illustrative model of a pandemic malaise, and something far more radical than a democratically elected progressive president is going to fix it? (This line of reasoning is most often heard when dining with very cynical expats from America and Western Europe.) As it is now, though, Monbiot doesn't really seem to be saying much at all.

Ding Dong, Phish is Dead

I know very little of their music, though have always liked what I've heard, but even am rather sad to it finally happen: Phish is no more. Sorry, Brad P.

Monday, August 16, 2004

Late Night Blather

It's a bit past my regular bedtime, the World Poker Tour has on the Challenge channel has finished, and I'm still unable to sleep. I thought I might sit down with a book, but everything that's not been boxed up (this, despite the fact we're not moving for another couple of weeks) has been read and is ready to be returned to the library. I then thought that I might, you know, actually get something written for the thesis. But, as has been the case for a couple of weeks, I'm dry. One of the more interesting things you learn when you're writing a thesis (dissertation, for you Americans) is that while it's really damn easy to write during the first year, by the time you've hit your third, you'll have more luck getting a tan in Glasgow than getting any words on a page (sure, it happens from time to time, if you happen to be outside when the clouds break, but you're better off staying inside a pub and watching football). I think this is because, to be very simplistic, you really have no clue what you're talking about most of the time during when you're getting started. I know I didn't anyway. You get accepted with an overly ambitious proposal -- say, the philosophical linkages between the 'fractured texts' (so pomo!) Pascal and Herman Melville, you realize it is overly ambitious within one month of actual research, which you never bothered to do when writing the proposal, but you're far too stubborn to admit this to your supervisors so you plow ahead, amassing loads of false starts and rabbit trails that total some 40,000 words, only to realize later, when reevaluating your status as a student due to financial constraints, that you've spent a year talking a bunch of shite, making connections that really ought not be made outside of a footnote or a cultural studies journal that you at this point hold with the utmost derision and scorn, and that while humanities research in general is kind of wanky in itself, you're threatening to cross the boundary into a level of autoeroticism that is not only intellectually unhealthy but, due to the alcohol and various illegal substances that would be necessary to make it through the endeavour, very likely physically debilitating. Thus begins year two: but you're still not quite ready to throw away those 40,000 words. That's a lot of work, after all. Surely that section of notes on Andy Warhol's car crash paintings will fit somewhere! You opt, instead, to 'set aside' most of year one for 'future reference', and decide a different angle of attack, sans Pascal this time. The next thing you know, you're in the middle of the third year, you have amassed several massive binders of notes, each with faintly apocalyptic messages of doom etched onto the covers, a wall of post-it notes referencing books whose titles, if you can read them, no longer ring any bells, and at least three burned CDs of miscellaneous manuscripts, all of which are different but in ways you can no longer divine, and a vague clue growing more ominous that you have absolutely no idea what to do with it at all. To top things off, by the end of the third year you've come to realize that you actually did have a good idea back in year one -- if only you'd followed through on all that Pascal stuff. Silly cow. By year four, the writing-up year you've been waiting three years for, if only because you don't have to pay full tuition, you're resorting to whispering to yourself half-hearted analogies from your everyday life for inspiration and insight, which prompts your new wife to suggest 'If you're not busy, maybe you could take the trash out for me.' Tonight's analogy: maybe I could enact some kind of typical Windows malfunction, like a blue-screen memory dump. How, I asked myself. Suggestion, to nobody in particular: 'See those two big black binders over there labelled Everything You Need to Know About Hegel, could you please be so kind as to put it in the oven? I can't bear to do it myself.'

Let's Make This Guy an Internet Celebrity

Okay ... I don't necessarily endorse everything on this site, and there is perhaps something deeply objectionable even to thinking this particular video funny, but I'm fairly sure the butt of the joke had a good time, too. So . . . no blood no foul. In other words, Enjoy.

Doing the Same Thing Over and Over Again and Expecting Different Results

This editorial in yesterday's Los Angeles Times really irritated me this morning.

The phrase "the war on terrorism" is a dangerous euphemism that obscures the true cause of our troubles, because we are currently at war with precisely a vision of life presented to Muslims in the Koran. Anyone who reads this text will find non-Muslims vilified on nearly every page. How can we possibly expect devout Muslims to happily share power with "the friends of Satan"? Why did 19 well-educated, middle-class men trade their lives for the privilege of killing thousands of our neighbors? Because they believed, on the authority of the Koran, that they would go straight to paradise for doing so. It is rare to find the behavior of human beings so easily explained. And yet, many of us are reluctant to accept this explanation.

Religious faith is always, and everywhere, exonerated. It is now taboo in every corner of our culture to criticize a person's religious beliefs. Consequently, we are unable to even name, much less oppose, one of the most pervasive causes of human conflict. And the fact that there are very real and consequential differences between the major religious traditions is simply never discussed.

Anyone who thinks that terrestrial concerns are the principal source of Muslim violence must explain why there are no Palestinian Christian suicide bombers. They too suffer the daily indignity of the Israeli occupation. Where, for that matter, are the Tibetan Buddhist suicide bombers? The Tibetans have suffered an occupation far more brutal. Where are the throngs of Tibetans ready to perpetrate suicidal atrocities against the Chinese? They do not exist. What is the difference that makes the difference? The difference lies in the specific tenets of Islam versus those of Buddhism and Christianity.

[. . .]

It is time we recognize that religious beliefs have consequences. As a man believes, so he will act. Believe that you are a member of a chosen people, awash in the salacious exports of an evil culture that is turning your children away from God, believe that you will be rewarded with an eternity of unimaginable delights by dealing death to these infidels — and flying a plane into a building is only a matter of being asked to do it. Believe that "life starts at the moment of conception" and you will happily stand in the way of medical research that could alleviate the suffering of millions of your fellow human beings. Believe that there is a God who sees and knows all things, and yet remains so provincial a creature as to be scandalized by certain sexual acts between consenting adults, and you will think it ethical to punish people for engaging in private behavior that harms no one.

Now that our elected leaders have grown entranced by pseudo-problems like gay marriage, even while the genuine enemies of civilization hurl themselves at our gates, perhaps it is time we subjected our religious beliefs to the same standards of evidence we require in every other sphere of our lives. Perhaps it is time for us to realize, at the dawn of this perilous century, that we are paying too high a price to maintain the iconography of our ignorance.

I'd sign on board with some of this. Yes, I do think we often treat religious sensibility with kid gloves. And yes, I think it is wise to reflect on the 'standards of evidence' that we require of each. This is, I think, the extent of my agreement. Those who know me well, know that I am not a worldclass apologist for religious belief; that I, in fact, lean more toward a kind of materialism than a redemptive spiritualism. As such, I find LOTS to criticize about religion. E.g., while I understand the ideal rationale of traditional Islam's treatment of women, I find much of its practical application abominable; while I think Zen Buddhism may indeed have a lot to teach the closed-off minds of the West, I also recoil when I recall its pivotal role in mobilizing the tyrannical Japanese war effort during WWII; and while Christianity has helped shaped a lot that is good about the Western world, much of what we now regard as 'good' came through centuries of what we'd regard as 'bad' (namely, war, colonization, etc.).

Now, the more commonplace reaction against an editorial like this is to point out the wholesale objectifiying of a religion: that there is no Islam as such, but rather a religion called Islam, in which adherents claim to follow the principles they (subjectively) create for themselves. Such an argument would point out there is (in a sense) a plurality of Islams, and that the singularity 'Islam' is a product of intersubjectivity -- i.e., that no one person can create the concept of Islam, that Islam is not a relativistic construction, but is 'created' collectively, through intersubjective compromise, agreement, and disagreement. What you end up with is a concept of Islam (or any religion, for that matter) that is neither one determinate thing nor the simple product of individual perspective. 'Islam' is, on the contrary, an empty signifier, into which individual perspectives are poured and objective meaning derived; the derived meaning, of course, is dependent upon the perspectives (or complex of perspectives) made available and/or 'agreed' upon. There is, in effect, no individual perspective without collective meaning, and no collective meaning without individual perspective. The upshot of such an argument isn't so much that the editorial is battering a strawman, as it readily accepts the possibility and actuality of the examples it cites, but that its wholesale criticism of religion based on the narrowness of its examples is feeble and unwarranted.

There might be some truth to this. What I'm far more interested in lately, though, is how the 'narrowness' of examples like these actually DO indict religion (but how, potentially, religion isn't really all that interesting without the indictment). For instance, I am becoming more convinced by the arguments that modern religious sensibility, as it becomes increasingly focused on individual, stratified spirituality, is becoming indistinguishable from the structure of capitalism. The most obvious corollary is that of currency currency. Just as gold is no longer the standard of value for modern currencies, but now a commodity amongst many in which one can invest, the truth of modern religion is also a potential investment (and not simply a revelatory foundation). I talked about this on one level above, but it is especially clear, too, when thinking about concrete examples like 'personal salvation', 'heaven', 'hell', etc. You reap what you sow, so it goes. Ask, and you will receive. Die to the old self, and be born again. Even the notion of No-Self in much of Buddhism is presented as being a mark of 'understanding', which somebody like Nagarjuna would seemingly equate with 'nirvana' itself; and even when it isn't, one would be foolish to think that 'Eastern' religion is without its share of sympathetic magic designed to help the individual. The returns on one's investments are, of course, different in different religions, but the structure remains the same.

The problem with this, though, is (as has long been cited) that inasmuch as capitalism involves BOTH a necessary stratification / deterritorialization (i.e., individuals & individual investments, and their hunger for new adaptations and contextualizations of these investments) AS WELL AS a greater dependency upon a network of others for those investments to be cashed-out (i.e., made meaningful / actualized), we are embroiled in a latent schizophrenia. The former resists the latter, and thus the market spreads like mad; indeed, it is a kind of madness. To me, insofar as religion resembles Capital, madness would be its constitutive condition. This is not necessarily the worst thing to say about religion, though. Kierkegaard is famous for saying that the 'knight of faith' is precisely INSANE.

"The person who denies himself and sacrifices himself for duty gives up the finite in order to grasp on to the infinite; he is secure enough. The tragic hero gives up what is certain for what is still more certain, and the eye of the beholder rests confidently on him. But the person who gives up the universal to grasp something higher that is not the universal, what does he do?" (Fear and Trembling)

There are a couple of schools of thought about insanity. It could (a) be simply that, or that it simply propagates matrices of power and terror to spread, and thus something to be resisted (this would seem to be the editorial's position). Or, alternatively, (b) it could be regarded as the built-in resistance to these matrices of power and terror, the constitutive point that eludes the grasp of that which it constitutes. For (b) there is always MORE to, say, Islam or Christianity, than Islam or Christianity themselves, they are never quite themselves -- that this incompleteness is, in effect, their constitutive truth. Without this inability to be themselves, the world's religions would not be at all -- that there is nothing, no truth, outside religion to which it infinitely strives, only the material / concrete instantiations of this void itself.

You be the judge.

Thursday, August 12, 2004

Wednesday, August 11, 2004

Return of the Real

Re: that last post. Bush's verbal mismanagement, his utter inability to say anything of actual importance without either some world-class torque on the level of a dizzying whirling dervish spin (i.e., 'More attacks in Iraq is a good thing because it shows how desperate the insurgents are'), flubbing the line, or simply resorting to a pathetic platitude that is so shockingly and obviously banal that even true believers cringe a little bit when they actually are put in a position to do anything but click their heels together and salute . . . . all of this is a clear sign of that to which all such postmodernists cringe (and, yes, I credit the GOP as being postmodern through and through), the return of the Real, that seedy underbelly that renders reality more than itself, the 'itself' of reality that is more than reality, and which occasionally, in glimpses, rears its most disturbing of heads. It frightens us all: it is that from which we recoil, which prompts so many sane, right-thinking Americans to stay away from the civil discourse in general, mostly because in this case it reminds us who has been leading American for nearly four years now, and if that doesn't fill you with dread and horror and sadness and a general disdain for the process that put him there, and doesn't make you wish for a double drop of whisky I don't know what will. And yet it also, ideally anyway, gives us some measure of hope, a glimmer of possibility that doesn't lie in some utopian future, but is here, with us, NOW, a feeling that we're not alone in noticing the horror, that together we can find some other headless Master to lead us down another path.

Taking Back Language

I've been having an ongoing conversation lately with Pat about the Republican appropriation of language in American political discourse. I.e., whereby the Republican agenda, simply by virtue of its purveyor's fine art of repetition and appropriate 'framing' (via talking points), is espoused before any actual content is presented (or at the expense of any content at all). For instance:

Well, frames are everywhere. Think of what happened on the very first day that George Bush took office. A press release came out using the words "tax relief." Now a linguist who looks at the word "relief" would say, "Ah-hah, there's a frame in which there is an affliction, an afflicted party who's harmed by this, a reliever, who takes away this affliction. And if anybody tries to stop them, they're a bad guy.

You add "tax" to that, and you get taxation is an affliction. And if the Democrats oppose the President's tax relief plan, they're bad guys

[. . .]

So the word "tax relief" goes out to every radio station, every TV station, every newspaper, day after day after day. Soon, everybody's thinking tax relief with the idea that taxation is an affliction unconsciously, automatically.

It is really easy, all too easy, to get frustrated about this, and simply to throw in the towel. Fortunately, though, we have people like George Lakoff to help make us a bit more aware of what is thrown our way. The more we're aware, the more we can actually be a bit less cynical (in the sense of bellyaching) and a bit more active in helping to reframe the issues that are important to us. Or, alternatively, it lends a bit more intelligence to our cynicism -- which is always helpful too.

Tuesday, August 10, 2004

Well Said

"The other day, I was ranting to a friend about Kerry's vicious support for the apartheid wall in Israel, his gratuitous attacks on Hugo Chavez in Venezuela and his abysmal record on free trade. 'Yeah,' he agreed sadly. 'But at least he believes in evolution.' " (Link)

Thursday, August 05, 2004

For Those Who Didn't Get the Email

I emailed this out yesterday, mostly to friends who do not, for a variety of reasons, do not read Silentio. I had the intention at the time to quickly post it, but by that point the bottle of champagne was taking its toll on my already-stunted short-term memory.

Ding Dong... Ding Dong...

So the bells chimed throughout Maaseik, Belgium, announcing the wedding of B. J. and K. Z., before the legal eyes of the Belgian government. It was a quaint, quick service, spoken almost entirely in Flemish, and thus mostly indecipherable to the likes of me. My linguistic deficiency aside, the only panic was that my witness, Katrien's best friend, would not show up in time. I did not understand why this might be a big deal until I realized that at 11.00, a few moments after I was supposed to kiss the bride, Belgium's national day of mourning was set to begin. But like a blonde-headed angel, and they're all blonde of course, E. came running into the little room, startling the mayor, who was wearing the Belgian flag like a sarong, announcing her intent to affirm my participation and consent. There wasn't a dry eye in the house as I prounounced, with pride I might add, 'Ja' to all the questions asked of him by the mayor, trusting that his English translation of the service was grenade-range accurate and legally binding to make all of this worth it. Should none of you believe that I, the traditionally non-marrying type, did indeed get married, I recommend that you ask to see (a) the pretty snazzy crystal glasses given to us by the mayor, adorned with Maaseik's town seal (sans copyright), and (b) the utterly confusing 'marriage book', at which I've looked and of which tried to make heads or tails, but have thus far been unsuccessful.

I thank you all for your warmest well-wishes, hopes, and whatever other good omens you have effectively thrown our way. It has been very appreciated. Upon our return to the States sometime in the autumn, K. and I hope to have some kind of ceremony -- perhaps a ring-exchange, wherein you are entrusted to threaten me with a vicious thrashing should I break the heart of the Belgian. I hope to see many of you there, or at least sometime soon before or thereafter. For those of you not in the States, but marooned on the isle I will soon be vacating for bigger, though arguably less alluring shores, I hope to see and celebrate with you soon. Meanwhile, I'll see those of you on the Continent soon enough, if I haven't already.

Best to you all.

Wednesday, August 04, 2004

It's Come To This

It's go time. In a few minutes, I will be standing before the mayor of Maaseik, Belgium, completely clueless as to what he's trying to say, hoping that K. doesn't flake out as an interpreter, as she is wont to do from time to time. Barring something grossly more unexpected than that, I will be, the next time I post, a married man. What to think of all this? As the clock winds down, I'm thinking of fate and destiny as the romantic agencies of love and marriage, and I cannot but conclude that it is all complete bollocks.

The family is stirring in the next room, and I'm getting glares from those who walk by the computer room on their way to the toilet, so I guess I should do the pre-ceremonial mingle. Stay tuned.

Monday, August 02, 2004

Matrimony Looms

I'm down to my final days as a single man. Oddly, and I say this with a bit of hesitation, something of a stammer, and a hint of a shudder, I'm not feeling too nervous about it. I'm not sure if this means that the reality of it hasn't sunk in: what with the herculean maneuvers it's taken to get this close to actually making this thing legal, and the fact that the wedding itself is a very small, very simple affair, forgetting that I'm getting married, and all that entails, I suppose, is a possibility.

As the clock ticks, and as we wait for the taxi that will take us to the train that will take us to the plane that will take me to a pretty radical shift in my person, I'm sitting here listening to music, in search for something that'll make the moment poignant, something that speaks. Is it, perhaps, the Velvet Underground's 'Heroin'? Perhaps. The Twilight Singers' 'Follow You Down'? Maybe. Super Furry Animals' 'Herman Loves Pauline'? Pretty close. But no ... it's none of these great songs. The song of the moment, our song -- mine and Katrien -- the one we sing while washing dishes and folding laundry and all those other banal moments of the purest love, is Whiskeytown's 'Matrimony'.

I've been saving this dress for my wedding day
Mama wouldn't have it any other way
She says when she married her waist was 23
I guess I'll never wear it anyway

I don't believe I plan to marry
Although I cannot explain exactly why
Somehow it seems to me that matrimony is misery
Simply a faster way to die

Saving all my money for my wedding day
You know my mama wouldn't have it any other way
She says when she married she didn't have a dime
I guess I'll spend that money some other way

I don't believe I care to marry
Although I cannot say exactly why
Somehow it seems to me that matrimony is misery
Simply a faster way to die

I've been saving my best thing for my wedding day
Because my papa wouldn't have it any other way
He says if I lose it early I'd have thrown my life away
But I swear I'll use my cherry my own way

I don't believe I care to marry
Although I cannot explain exactly why
Somehow it seems that matrimony is misery
Simply a faster way to die

So ... off to Belgium for the week. I'll check in periodically.

Wednesday, July 28, 2004

Home Run

It's not often anymore that you get a stellar political speech in America, save for some of the neo-fascist conservative rantings whose sheer spectacle you can't help but gawk at from time to time. Occasionally, you get a choleric Howard Dean setting Sacramento alight in March 2003, days before the Iraq war, berating Democrats for giving America away to the fundamentalists. But normally you're stuck with middle-of-the-road political praddle, not unlike that exemplified by Bush himself in an interview (begins at the 15.00 mark) this summer in Ireland. (Note: Bush was lucky he had a fairly incompetent interviewer. Not so for Prime Minister Blair last February.). But then, occasionally, you get young politicans like Barack Obama speaking at the Democratic National Convention ... and bringing down the house (text transcript here).  Turn your political cynicism off for fifteen minutes and check it out -- this one is a keeper.

Tuesday, July 27, 2004

Ideology of Intention

Yesterday I had an interesting email discussion with a friend of mine re: his assigned textbook for a second-year Hermeneutics course he is teaching in the autumn, Grant R. Osborne's The Hermeneutical Spiral. Osborne's book is regarded pretty highly by those evangelical Christian seminaries that don't want to come off as fundamentalist nutjobs. In my friend's words: "Osborne's deal is that you get closer and closer to the meaning of the text the more and more you deal with it. In other words, you don't just move in the circle of the author's meaning that you can't extract, nor the reader's meaning that you can't avoid. Rather, his vision is of a spiral that gets closer and closer with each subsequent reading. It is fundamentally an exegetical model, and he explicitly admits to following E.D. Hirsch."

What's wrong with this picture of interpretation? Well, very shortly, I don't buy Hirsch's conservative conception of authorial intention. Namely, that it (authorial intention) is the ultimate horizon of a text's meaning. I certainly think it is possible to come up with reasonable authorial readings, and to that end Osborne's (and Hirsch's) method is reasonably sound). However, the assumption that the elusive authorial meaning is what keeps the 'spiral' in motion (i.e., keeps us reading), is not one that I think is all that compelling. It's telling that when Hirsch tried to support intentionality with philosophy, he ended up appealing to a very suspect reading of Husserl. When he saw that that wasn't going to fly, he appealed, far more successfully I might add, to common sense and pragmatics. There's something to be said for the latter, at least insofar as it displays how normative meanings are conferred to texts and discourses (a necessary step if we're going to make sense of one another). But critically speaking, and to an extent ethically, I think the underlying assumption of both Hirsch and Osborne leaves a lot to be desired, as it ultimately forecloses the hermeneutical horizon to a single (elusive) referent. What you seem to have in Osborne, if I remember correctly anyway, is a pretty standard foundationalist assumption that there is an ultimate meaning lying just beyond our subjective purview, and inasmuch as we search for it in good faith, we'll get closer to it. What you also have, though, is the also pretty standard foundationalist / rationalist caveat that, if hermeneutical activity is to continue, said ultimate meaning must remain further down inside the spiral. Alice, upon her descent into the rabbit hole, as it were, never quite reaches Wonderland. In other words: you have a foundationalist assumption, with no foundationalist payoff. Where is the exegetical money shot?

It is hard to see how one of two things will not arise from such an impasse: (a) strong interpretations that claim tentative / open status, but do not readily accept deviant / alternative positions; or (b) weak interpretations that (implicitly or explicitly) anticipate new contexts to be be unearthed that will lead us closer to an author's meaning -- which will, in a sense, discredit previous interpretations (that do not coincide) as obsolete or solipsistic play. Inasmuch as Ultimate Meaning remains the inaccessible horizon that other (bad) interpretations keep us from achieving, I think hermeneutics remains dangerously blind to its ideological function. Keeping Truth on the far side of reality is just as standard in the ideologue's handbook as casting alternative / deviant interpretations as the hurdle to said Truth. (E.g., 'If it weren't for those damned liberals mucking around with our biblical studies, we might know what Paul really meant!', or 'Deconstruction is the death of biblical interpretation!', 'Queer theory [or whatever other special interest theory] is a mockery of biblical scholarship!')

Monday, July 26, 2004

Celebration!

Not too long ago I received a letter from a scholarly journal rejecting a paper of mine.  Long-time readers may remember the upshot: "I wouldn't encourage its revision . . . though perhaps its translation into English!"  Well, this weekend I received vindication, of sorts.  Much to the chagrin of some readers who recommended physical violence, I opted simply to submit it elsewhere.  Thankfully, the good folk at the Journal for Cultural and Religious Theory didn't think it nearly as bad as The Journal of the ______ ______ of _____.  Should be up and available for public consumption in December.  Huzzah!

Monday, July 19, 2004

Two Weeks and Two Days

A whirlwind weekend in the life and times of K. and me.  It all started on Friday afternoon.  I was enjoying a quiet afternoon -- listening to this, reading this, skimming through this -- when I was called by the frantic Belgian, who explained that 'we have a problem'.  It turns out that if you want to get married in Belgium, nobody but you and your significant other can turn in the requisite documents (i.e., an assortment of birth certificates, certificates saying there is no impediment to a marriage, certificates indicating that you have never, to the knowledge of the Glasgow City Council, sacrificed a bull to Mithra, etc.).  This, of course, makes perfect sense, but, as it were, we'd been fed very bad information by the townhall.  Anyway ... upon the news that K.'s parents could not turn in these documents, K. told me to set aside all else and find affordable last-second plane tickets to Belgium, so that we might settle the matter in a timely fashion.  ('Just do it,' were her words, if I recall, when she heard the beginnings of the phrase, 'I told you s---'.)  So, twelve hours later, at the very dawning of Glasgow's most gray of dawns, I found myself with her, only one-quarter awake, £400 poorer, on a plane bound for Brussels (via Amsterdam). 
 
As it normally the case, the situation was not nearly as bad as we thought it might be.  If nothing else, we got to play with the (still nameless) orphaned kittens, drink Westmalle along the Maas, and tempt fate while riding a bike (after drinking said Westmalles) during an apocalyptic thunderstorm.  And, yes, we got things settled at the townhall, at least I think we did.  According to the competent official who has led us astray two times already, we are scheduled for a wedding on August 4, at 10.30.  Fingers crossed, people. 
 
We're bound for Glasgow early Tuesday morning, bringing another section of this weird chapter to its close.  Hopefully, it will eventually become just a footnote. 

Thursday, July 15, 2004

Fafblog Forever!

It was recently brought to my attention that, for reasons I don't entirely understand, but realistically suspect to be a part of a vast conspiracy against the full-functioning depravity that Silentio encourages, I've never linked to the always wonderful Fafblog. Er ... then again, maybe I have. Whatever. Prior linking or not, if you need more proof before you add it to your bookmarks, look no further than Fafnir's interview with Ralph Nader and his running mate cum sock puppet, Mr. Winkles.

Tuesday, July 13, 2004

A Review

I got around to watching Fahrenheit 9/11 last night. As I mentioned here here, I went into it with a hearty dose of cynicism / skepticism. (Par for the course, that double dose.) Most of you have undoubtedly heard all the positive and negative reviews. One of the interesting things about the movie is that, at least in the 'liberal' press, its negative aspects are often redeemed for positive ends. There's some real value in this approach (e.g., Paul Krugman's op/ed), but I'm more struck by the fact by the weaknesses that undermine (what I regard as) its positive aim.

Most people are falling over themselves either in outrage or in defense of Moore's reliance on Craig Unger's book House of Saud, House of Bush: The Secret Relationship Between the World's Two Most Powerful Dynasties, whereby Moore insinuates many of the possible, conspiratorial ramifications of the connections between American corporate interest, esp. those of Bush's family, and those of Saudi Arabia. Yes ... this is one of the problems with Fahrenheit 9/11, but not because it lends itself to the self-indulgent promulgation of conspiracy theories. The downside is a bit more simple, I think: it just gets in the way of the more general, and in my opinion more interesting, analysis of America's corporate relationship with Saudi Arabia. In insinuating a conspiracy, Moore too quickly makes a conclusion that he ought not make; that is to say, I think this part of the movie would have been much more powerful had he presented the connections, in all their ambiguity and generality, and allowed moviegoers to make their own conclusions. The best way to spread a secret, after all, is not to spread it as such (i.e., as a secret); but rather, to talk around it, allowing people to create the content of the secret on their own and then spread it as truth.

Far more damaging, though, as was also the case in Bowling for Columbine is Moore's tendency toward haphazard collage, rather than meaningful pastiche. Now, I know he has a purpose, one I share, and I'm more than willing to give him leeway with playing with facts to make a rhetorical maneuver, but I'm still a sucker for a strongly argued point. The closest Moore has ever come to this is in Roger and Me. Since then, possibly due to his foray into television, his movies have become far too episodic and anecdotal, at the expense of their poignancy. What you have in Fahrenheit 9/11 is a series of reasons not to vote for Bush. Yes ... I understand that. On that level, I suppose it works. I do not think that only lefties are seeing the movie; in fact, I'm fairly convinced that it could be very convincing for non-committed middle-ground voters. HOWEVER ... I think its appeal could very well prove to be its worst point. Clearly, the end of the film, which profiles a Flint, Michigan mother, whose son was killed in Iraq, is designed for an emotional effect. I think it works. I'm not a very emotional person, but, unlike most of the Brits I've talked to about this scene, I was not embarassed by it, but genuinely moved. Seeing the mother nearly fall over in grief when standing in front of the White House lawn, not unlike the Iraqi woman screaming 'Why?' to God after yet another errant American bomb, is one of the most 'real' moments of the film. My problem with it, however, is that it functions as a climax to the anti-Bush theme, rather than its heart. As such, the weight of its reality is not as heavily felt -- i.e., it becomes all too easy to see through the rhetorical function of it ('Ah ... he's appealing to our emotions here'). In other words, it is not unreasonable to feel a little manipulated or jerked around. Surely, Bush & co. used the threat of terrorism to this same rhetorical effect, and one could perhaps say this justifies Moore's use of it, too -- but when one uncritiqued ideology replaces another uncritiqued ideology, you're simply left with what you started with. Mimicking the enemy is effective (and, as it were, true) only insofar as it disrupts its own reflection, breaking it into an untold number of possible reflections, all distorted, all inadequate.

Anyway ... in a nutshell: Fahrenheit 9/11 is surely worth seeing. It's chock full of unseen footage (of Bush, of the war, etc.), and is worth the ticket price (or length of a download) for that alone. I think it also has a lot of potential to sway middle-ground voters. Nevertheless, inasmuch as the rhetorical turns are often too apparent, and the content so broad as to be emotionally shallow, it carries the same potential to dissuade these same voters when/if their heads catch up with their hearts. On a cynical level, I guess I can but hope, apropos of the comparison of Moore's rhetoric with that of pre-war Bush, that it remains convincing long enough to accomplish its end.

Monday, July 12, 2004

Should I Include This In My Wedding Vow?

To put it another way: choice is always a meta-choice; it involves a choice to choose or not. Prostitution, for example, is a simple exchange: a man pays a woman for having sex with her. Marriage, on the other hand, involves two levels: in traditional marriage, with man as breadwinner, he pays the woman much more (maintains her as wife) in order not to have to pay her (for sex). So, in the case of marriage for money, one cay say that the husband pays the wife in order that she should sell not only her body but also her soul -- that she should pretend that she is giving herself to him out of love. Yet another way to put it would be to say that one pays a prostitute to have sex with her, whereas one's wife is a prostitute whom one has to pay even more if one doesn't have sex with her (since in this case she is not satisfied, and one has to appease her in another way, with generous gifts). (S. Zizek, The Ticklish Subject)

The Kids, They're Alright

The widespread influence of Silentio on America's youth is finally, after two long years, taking effect:

About one-third of American teenagers claim they're "born again" believers, according to data gathered over the past few years by Barna Research Group, the gold standard in data about the U.S. Protestant church, and 88% of teens say they are Christians. About 60% believe that "the Bible is totally accurate in all of its teachings." And 56% feel that their religious faith is very important in their life.

Yet, Barna says, slightly more than half of all U.S. teens also believe that Jesus committed sins while he was on earth. About 60% agree that enough good works will earn them a place in heaven, in part reflecting a Catholic view, but also flouting Protestantism's central theme of salvation only by grace. About two-thirds say that Satan is just a symbol of evil, not really a living being. Only 6% of all teens believe that there are moral absolutes--and, most troubling to evangelical leaders, only 9% of self-described born-again teens believe that moral truth is absolute.

Some commentators produce even more startling statistics on the doctrinal drift of America's youth. Ninety-one percent of born-again teenagers surveyed a few years ago proclaimed that there is no such thing as absolute truth, says the Rev. Josh McDowell, a Dallas-based evangelist and author. More alarmingly, that number had risen quickly and steadily from just 52% of committed Christian kids in 1992 who denied the existence of absolute truth. A slight majority of professing Christian kids, Mr. McDowell says, also now say that the bodily resurrection of Jesus Christ never occurred.

"There's a greater disconnect now than ever in the history of the church in America between what a Christian young person says they are and what they actually believe," says Mr. McDowell, who has ministered mainly to youth for more than 30 years. "Christianity is based on truth; Jesus said, 'I am the truth.' But you have an overwhelming majority even of Christian kids saying there is no absolute truth."

Ah, song of my most cynical heart -- sing again! Yea, my job here is almost done. I had to leave youth ministry before I could truly save souls.

Oh ... but it gets better:

Indeed, the consequences of this theological implosion now pervade the thoughts and actions of believing teenagers, following the moral breakdown of the broader American culture. Here's one practical example: Only 10% of Christian teens believe that music piracy is morally wrong, according to a recent Barna survey, not all that different from the 6% of their non-Christian peers who feel the same way.

It's almost too toothsome to taste, isn't it? Such moral ambiguity! Such unwillingness to unquestionably believe in a particular ideology! The audacity! It's almost as if -- Noooo! -- that the moralistic revival of America isn't really a revival at all, that American Christian belief is as shallow as George Bush's health care reform. Noooooooooo!

Friday, July 09, 2004

On Theory

As I've said in the past, I normally do not link to things in Salon, due to the mandatory ad you have to sit through before reaching any content; but, also as I've also said in the past, in so many words, exceptions are the spice of life. Granted, Judith Butler (professor of rhetoric & comp. literature at Berkeley) is not normally considered 'spicy' -- or at least has not been so, even in 'theory wonk' circles, for quite some time now -- but this article about her newest collection of essays is noteworthy. In it, probably far more than Butler does, the writer goes on at length about how 'maybe theory isn't quite so dead after all'. Hmm ... you think? One of the truisms that arose from the ashes of the Twin Towers was that, along with irony, theory was dead. The New York Times, the Christian Science Monitor, and even the Chronicle of Higher Education went on at length about the name of the game now is action / praxis. In other words, what with all this reality surrounding us, i.e., the constrant threat of (if not always the reality of) war and terrorism, theoretical 'wanking' is irrelevant, if not irresponsible. I never really bought the doxa, though. It seemed a bit too much like the 'everything has changed now' line. Easy to say, and perhaps even to believe; much more difficult to flesh out into actual, livable content.

I agree with the author's point here, that theory is not only NOT dead but is potentially, at least in the able hands of somebody like Butler, helpful. Nevertheless, Butler (via quotes) makes a far more significant point than the author actually unpacks -- namely, because Butler seems to address the important question that continually dogs theorists: Why is theory important?

Theory, Butler clarifies in our conversation, has been mistaken by many people to be a "position of permanent skepticism." Instead, she sees it as "nothing more than a critical interrogation of beliefs we already carry with us." It is a form of inquiry that does not deny the existence of the world but rather relates to it critically. "Theory is never fully abstract," she says, for "it is in the context of action that we have to think." In her words, theory is an "engaged form of reflection" that frequently "emerges in tandem with suffering."

This is something I've come more frequently to recognize about my work: i.e., theorizing about theology, for instance, is not tantamount to pushing theology in the direction I think it must go in order to retain / generate its vitality. People often regard me (and my kind) as commonplace critics, ones who pick apart what either we cannot do or what we did not do. This misses the point, though. In the end, as Butler rightly notes, theory is about 'the beliefs we already carry with us'. It is a way to think about where we already are, what we are already doing, and wondering aloud "Why?" THIS is the reason theory is scary, and why it carries the potential for abuse. It is not a question we normally ask with any seriousness, outside of wondering about the apparent causes that led event-Y to follow event-X. A compelling, persuasive to 'Why?' is, as such, powerful stuff -- it carries the potential to change lives, ideally for good, if not necessarily the fundamental conditions from which theorising about our lives is possible in the first place (i.e., that we never escape from the possibility of wondering 'Why?') To regard theory as being dead is not to place it in an early grave; but rather, it is to regard ourselves as no longer culpable to 'Why?' For me ... this is far more dangerous than any pesky deconstructionist or scary feminist.

Hear Me, All Ye Cheap Bastards

Interested in seeing Fahrenheit 9/11, but you're too poor (or impatient to wade through the throng of popcorn-eating masses)? Well, my children, you simply download it!! This internet thing, I tell you, it's the wave of the future. Now, granted, I just started my BitTorrent download, and boy is it a big mother! But, what else does a PhD student have to do with his day, eh?

Much like visiting most of America's tourist destinations, I feel like I've already 'been there, done that' with this movie; and yet, much like I still visit many of America's tourist destinations, in spite of the accompany insipid banality everything about the visit itself, I felt as though I ought to see this movie. I read something the other day saying Fahrenheit 9/11 was necessary, not because it was a good movie (who expects to see an honest-to-God good movie that doesn't involve Spider-Man?), but because 'it makes people think'. Eh ... I'm not so sure. 'Thinking' is not really America's strongest suit, is it? -- well, outside those Nobel Prize winning community, and all those advertising people who do our thinking for us. Anyway, this is why I don't really care if Michael Moore is a loud-mouth truth-bender. We've been held sway by one for nearly four years now, so I think we can survive a two-hour movie by one bending truth in a different direction. So, my hope, oh song of my cynical heart!, is not that Americans begin to 'think' -- that's like hoping we'll be able to stare at the eclipsing sun without going seeing spots -- but simply to do what we do best. Namely, get really pissed off (not by a rational argument, but by sheer, visceral revulsion), revolt, and THEN sink back into the hazy-eyed, haggard ennui that'll let all those people who do our thinking for us (the Nobel-winning think-tanks and myriad marketers) to come up with a new way to piss us off (and thus start the process all over again).

Or something like that.