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?

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.

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.

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.

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?

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.

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.

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?"

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.

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)

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!

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.

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.

Word of the Day

Tautology.

Hilarious

You know ... I just realized that I've never linked to The Best Page In The Universe.