In which I, having set out to enthuse about a new blog on the privatization of Chicago's public infrastructure, instead decry neoliberalism generally.

The following quotation is taken from the initial post of a certain Tom Tresser, whose blog is called Connecting The Dots In Chicago, which is about the privatization of public infrastructure. I am very happy to see that such a blog exists, and, although I as of yet know nothing about Tom Tresser except his initial post, I think I like his politics a lot. Tresser's blog is to be found on The Huffington Post's new Chicago-specific Web site:

[W]hat is the real state of our city finances? Is this trend toward self-financing and privatization really in the best interest of the people? Is Chicago so poor that it has to sell the Skyway and is contemplating selling Midway Airport? Is the Board of Education so strapped that parents all over the city tax themselves through never-ending fundraising in order to add staff, purchase computers and basic supplies for our public schools? Is the Park District so needy that it demands citizens to raise or find two thirds of the funding for local park improvements? Is the city so needy that it is entering into partnerships with anyone with cash or clout that strip the public out of "public assets[?]"

It's such a relief to witness the emergence of efforts like Tresser's to expose in digestible terms and with local/familiar points of reference the privatization of public assets, neoliberal politics, sleazy oligarchic alliances between government and big business.

It's my hope that the contributions of hard-working, clear-thinking and morally/ethically engaged people like Tresser, there will result an increased public consciousness of and capacity to think critically about:

1. the accumulation of facts on the ground of ongoing cynical and corrupt instances of the selling-off of public infrastructure -- which for apparently structural or market-dictated reasons don't seem to be covered under the beats of any mainstream or even formally 'public' news media I can think of,
   
2. and the ways in which the past 30 years of Republican neoliberal governance and strong-arm politics -- capitalizing on and perpetuating the latent fears of the so-called 'middle-class' -- has distorted in pernicious ways the very rhetoric that we use on a day-to-day basis to refer to a host of things economic, political and even personal. Namely, the 'logic of the marketplace' -- and its corollary, the 'our rights as consumers' -- has crept into sectors of society and human life in which it simply should have no place.

To elaborate on #2: a theory that I've seen floated (I think in an article in Slate, if memory serves, commenting upon the recent Wall Street Journal piece "Why no outrage?" by James Grant) about the lack of 'outrage' with respect to recent instances of the federal government doling out what in essence are welfare checks to corporations and wealthy investors. The author in Slate theorized that it has precisely to do with this 30 years of ideological work conducted by the GOP slogan-machine on behalf of the economic Right, including, obviously, corporate interests.

The result of this conditioning is that many of we Americans who probably lack completely either comprehension or even conscious allegiance to this neoliberal ideological agenda (and corporate profit-making agenda) associate ANY public ownership of infrastructure, no matter how big or how small, with inefficiency, ineptitude, and a kind of decline in economic dynamism, and thereby, an overall decline in the efficacy of the American project, which is, after all, built upon things like the vitality and industriousness of the atomized, private individual, acting in his own interests(!).

This GOP strategy by which public rhetoric and sentiment is conditioned against public infrastructure is, it seems to me, choc-full of weaknesses. One of the reasons we are seeing its stranglehold over the populace – and its stranglehold is greatest, let’s face it, over the ‘middle class’, broadly construed, and the ‘baby boomers’, narrowly construed – begin to unravel is because the sexy illusion that declares the privatization of all aspects of ownership and governance to be in everyone’s best interest can only sustain itself for as long as, in the main, economic prosperity continues to appear to march forward. In other words: the illusion can sustain itself only for as long as people keep their jobs and make pay that they’re happy with. The illusion is unlikely to fracture on the basis of our cognizance of other people’s declining economic status and opportunities. We have too many illusions to obscure us from that cognizance.

But, once our individual leg up begins to disappear, it becomes more and more difficult to avoid recognizing that something’s up. Private interest starts to seem in fact to stand in POSITIVE relation to public interest (a novel idea, that!). When private citizens can no longer afford to buy enough privately distributed gasoline from the privately owned gas station to drive to work everyday in their private cars, it becomes increasingly apparent that – to our shock – that the lower our private economic means, the more that the curbing of public ownership amounts to the curbing of our ability to rely on the ownership of anything at all! Without that ownership – be it public or private – we lack access to amenities and services. And without access to amenities and services, we lack the capacity to improve our quality of life.

Especially in the short-term, however, plenty of us who have been brainwashed by the GOP’s neoliberal agenda will continue to hold onto the dream, even as the dream starts to seem like more and more of a nightmare. When we lose our job, we will blame ourselves for not being hard-working enough. When gas prices become too high for us to afford, we will redirect our resentment and anger, and aim it squarely at people who look and speak differently than we do.

After all, it’s no secret that the GOP machine currently and since Richard 'Tricky Dick' Nixon at least, capitalizes upon the middle class’s resentment of that which is unfamiliar, and preys upon the middle class’s self-pity at the notion of having to think for so much as a moment about the interests of those who look different and live differently than it does. In other words, the resentment of the haves toward the have nots. A resentment revolving around such intangibles as fear, paranoia, historical but usually sublimated racism, and – of course – the myth of American meritocracy, with its built-in relief from having to feel guilty about how much more you have than other people. When you think about it, the fact that the GOP since Nixon was able to capitalize and perpetuate a resentment of the poor than flows from the top to bottom of the economic ladder – despite how clearly counterintuitive this would appear – is quite astonishing!

So, now, as it becomes increasingly difficult for Joe Suburb, who’d construed himself previously to be a have to ignore the fact that on a day-to-day basis, he’s more and more of a have not, the GOP will perhaps discover an ideological task for itself that on paper should be much easier than the one it’s been up to for the past 30 years. All the GOP has to do is reorganize its ideological energies around the notion that outside forces, particularly in the Middle East – tapping in, naturally to existing but mostly sublimated racism, fear and anti-Arab sentiment – is responsible for having taken the opportunities of the American middle class away! Indeed, the Right has already been at it, laying the groundwork not only for the neoconservative idea of attacking Iran, but I would argue, for the neoliberal idea that Middle Eastern oil-rich nations are, as it were, 'infringing upon the American, free-market-derived right' to buy and sell oil/gasoline at a 'fair’, price that’s not ‘artificially inflated’ by ‘evil-doers’ who look different than we do.

Again, if the GOP was able to tap into the resentment of the haves toward groups of have-nots who ‘look, talk, act and pray different than we do’, it should be fairly easy for it to redirect that resentment toward people who not only ‘look, talk, act and pray’ differently, but who live on the other side of the world, and who are portrayed as the actual culprits for the decline in the standard of living in the United States’s middle class. Oh, and by the way: ‘they’re all terrorists, and they hate our freedom’.

After all, one of the hallmarks of the aforementioned 30-year ideological project is that it undertakes to becloud the bright line that should, of course, exist between good governance and good economics. Between the public good and the good of private industry. Between democracy and capitalism! The Chinese Olympics, after all, is a kind of apotheosis of the alliance of gentlemanly economic goodwill between the USA and China that was brokered originally by Nixon and Henry 'Realpolitik' Kissinger.

At present, there is justifiable outrage on the part of activists and ordinary people globally toward China’s extensive past and continuing human rights abuses. But, do you know what I find awfully telling? The fact that you’d have to look much harder indeed to find people expressing outrage at an even more pernicious and even less containable evil: that of authoritarian capitalism. I believe that only a paranoid lunatic would suggest that any mainstream politician or business interest in the USA actually favors authoritarianism. What I am pointing to is the fact that there appears to be such an alarmingly meager amount of discussion of the ways in which the combination of authoritarianism and capitalism is a blueprint in and of itself for widespread human, political and economic injustice.

It’s easier, after all, to talk about human rights abuses – be they systemic or discrete – because it just makes more human sense as offensive to those of us who see ourselves as having a moral conscience. It functions in much the same way as the recent spate of corruption and abuse in Washington DC through alliances between federal government and private sector interests: I’m speaking of course about Jack Abramoff, et al. As Tom Frank’s new book apparently discusses (I haven’t read it yet, apart from the excerpt published in Harper’s), such lobbying/contracting/special interest abuses are SYSTEMIC in Washington. But the way business is done in DC, there are one or two ‘fall guys’ chosen from among a number of powerful participants, the ‘fall guy’ is prosecuted in a big-headline-generating, sex-scandal-type way, and life goes on, as though the whole thing was a discrete, unique, even bizarre or unusual infraction of a system that basically works.

As more and more of us begin to realize, the system of course doesn’t work. And I’m happy to see that Tresser’s blog has been set up for the purpose of addressing these tendencies on a local level, where they’re familiar and palpable. Where we ordinary Joes can trace trends and tendencies as they unfold before our eyes, in addition to taking to task on a case-by-case basis individual politicians and shady businessmen for their corruption, neglect or the deliberate creation of opacity from public scrutiny. So that we can all begin to recognize intuitively that the outsourcing of public infrastructure to the marketplace is in effect the outsourcing of democracy itself; the destruction of our rights to scrutinize, to protest, to oppose, and to vote in accordance with our beliefs, ethics and political preferences; a gag order against the use of our own voices as citizens. So that we have a shot at realizing that the outsourcing of our public infrastructure is in effect the outsourcing of the public good.

The genius of John Lydon (Part I):"Two sides to every story / Somebody had to stop me..."

Two sides to every story
Somebody had to stop me
I'm not the same as when I began
I will not be treated as property!

-- John Lydon, in P.i.L's "Public Image"

This item inaugurates a series of posts dedicated to the discussion of the lyrics, singing, songwriting, image, fashion sense, rhetoric, persona and politics of John Lydon. I'll explain more about what I'll be discussing as I go along (since that's when I'll be deciding what I'll be discussing). Lydon -- a.k.a. Johnny Rotten -- is a complex artist, and almost every aspect of his career and life is more or less contentious. I don't intend to get to the bottom of any deep debates, particularly not as regards Lydon's significance in the United Kingdom, because his career draws from and contributes to the UK cultural consciousness in ways that will always remain partly beyond the scope of my comprehension.

In fact, my chief goal in hammering out these brainstorms about John Lydon is to make a case that people in the United States should take his contributions to music and culture more seriously; also that the US is now in many respects ready to understand Lydon's work, because the country has gone through plenty of growing up since the late '70s: a period not noted for American optimism, but which in retrospect appears to have been extremely naive, especially in comparison to the culturally revolutionary activities taking place in London contemporaneously.

I also should make clear that I'm not much going to be talking about Lydon's work during his creatively bankrupt phases, of which there have definitely been a few. To the extent that I touch upon, for instance, the Lydon of Public Image Ltd.'s 1983 release Live In Japan (not recommended!), it will be to point out how his work at its best is so good and so important that such missteps carry zero weight in a serious assessment of the quality and impact of Lydon's overall career.

I. Three general hypotheses.

It's my intention to argue that John Lydon, despite being held in high esteem by many punk rock enthusiasts, record collectors, and otherwise 'tuned in'-types, has not been given the sustained critical attention that is his due for his innovative and enduring contributions to arts and culture. For evidence of this, we need look no further than archived film, video and news articles about the Sex Pistols, which are quite often so hyperbolic, so full of clichés, so superficial, as to demean their subject. This is true, by the way, irrespective of whether the article or television spot in question is favorable or unfavorable!

For example, unfailingly they'll refer -- either blithely or enthusiastically -- to Lydon's lyrics or attitude as 'nihilistic', which in fact is a terribly wrong-headed term with which to describe his work. They'll read sarcasm into his moments of greatest sincerity, they'll mistake honesty for braggadocio, and they'll mistake braggadocio for hate. They'll read his odes to self-centeredness as disdain for that which is external to the self. And let's pause on this for a moment: just think about the kind of mind that thinks "self-centered = bad thing," instead of, for instance, asking itself "bad in relation to what, exactly?" And then going on to think, "Mighn't there be some things in relation to which self-centeredness is good? And what might those things be?"

Obviously, journalism and particularly music journalism isn't going to give us the latter mind. So I therefore am undertaking to brainstorm about what more people would know, were the latter mind out there writing for USA Today. But to begin with, we would be well served to explore what cultural or historical trends might hold regular media back. To account for this failure to give Johnny his due on the part of journalists and other types who are in the business of 'due-giving', I have a host of hypotheses. Just to list three rather general examples:

1. Plenty of ink has been spilled particularly in England on the subject of John 'Johnny Rotten' Lydon. Believe it or not -- despite all the dust kicked up by London's famously lowbrow tabloids, beginning with The Sex Pistols' famous appearance on the UK's Bill Grundy tea-time television show
   
   
   
   -- at least a respectable percentage of the commentary on Lydon's projects over the years in the UK actually treated its subject seriously. However, paradoxically, because the impact of the Pistols exploding into English culture was so seismic, a lot of what Lydon represents is by definition left unsaid by commentators from within that culture, even those commentaries that are most wildly sympathetic to Lydon's work and point of view. A gruesome but nonetheless instructive point of comparison in the United States is September 11th. If we were to look back at newspaper articles in the months and years following that event, it's unlikely that after an initial period we would find references to the details of that day. You just take it as a given. There's no reason to talk about all of its details explicitly. *
   
   
2. By its very nature, The Sex Pistols' -- and especially John Lydon's -- persona and media presence is/was oppositional. Therefore, the band's and the singer's impact is measured most fruitfully by the degree to which media reports and the rantings of the commentariat reacted to rather than assessed soberly the phenomenon of The Sex Pistols. There's nothing wrong with this fact as such. But it means that the articles or commentaries have a very short shelf-life. They appear to contemporary eyes -- especially if those eyes are American -- to be as ponderous and obscure as, say, The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle (not recommended!).
   
   
3. While all of the above holds true particularly on the Right Side of the Pond, here in the US of A, the problem could be described as the converse of both 1) and 2). The music and culture-oriented media here -- to the extent that they can be said to exist -- simply don't know or understand or care about how revolutionary was the impact of The Sex Pistols in their native land. This goes not just for glossy toilet paper like, whatever, Rolling Stone or something, but also for media that should know what the fuck they're talking about but don't. You know, sophomoric middlebrow, middle class crap like Pitchfork Internet Magazine or whatever it's called, which is in a way even worse than Rolling Stone, because it doesn't pay its writers, and its writers write like it.

II. Oppositional thinking ≠ nihilism.

There. I've drawn our attention to the fact that the American press tends neither to know it's history nor to care about the history of cultures outside of its purview/target market, and that this has a lot to do with the fact that it doesn't understand Lydon, and especially didn't understand him during the late 70s. Compounding this problem is another uniquely American phenomenon whose relevance is undeniable despite the fact that it's....erm....extrinsic to the question of the relation between media and Lydon himself.

Our country's free fall into a bucktoothed, torture-promoting, redneck, xenophobic, anti-intellectual, corporate-oligarchic shambles has been set in motion by more than merely the blood-lust alliance brokered between the uneducated and stupid in one corner, and the neurotically fearful and repressed in the other. True, ours is a drooling and masochistic nation, but that's not what lies at the center of its obsession with mediocrity. To the contrary, the USA's real reason for failing to comprehend the nature of Lydon's art, politics and persona has to do with naiveté. Or maybe: a kind of insouciance.

Let me put it this way, it's for largely the same reasons that people in the United States have still managed to trick themselves into believing that there's no class system here. And if we have trouble coming to grips with that now, in the midst of the Second Gilded Age, you can be sure that we had trouble understanding it in the 1970s. Not that the 70s was a by any means prosperous time here in the good old US of A... But it was a naive time. The mainstream could no more have understood Johnny Rotten than it could have produced its very own Johnny Rotten, out of the remotest enclaves of Orange County.

No, the United States was on balance unprepared for the Pistols when they landed here and marched like a counter-clockwise Sherman through the unsuspecting countryside of the Bible Belt. Actually, I think in a weird way those Southern towns were somewhat ready, as evinced by the willingness of their cowboy-dressin' citizens to engage in confrontation,, particularly in San Antonio, where they gave as good as they got. And what they got was Sid Vicious cutting himself, calling the audience (in a righteously inspired moment), "a bunch of fucking faggot cowboys," and thwarting the advance of a particularly menacing faggot cowboy by hitting him over the head with his bass guitar.

Irrespective of the American South's readiness, San Francisco definitely wasn't. By the time Lydon came charging through with the early P.i.L line-ups, there had already emerged nationwide substantial pockets of understanding, receptive people. But the vast majority of culture still wasn't ready; they liked The Clash, maybe (and nowadays, what upwardly mobile professional doesn't like The Clash?), but Lydon was, in the estimation of the mainstream, still too demanding. Too, er....'nihilistic'.....

Tom Snyder: Back now with John and Keith who are with Public Image Limited. You know, it's been so long that I've almost forgotten where we were when we were at it!

John Lydon: Uh, you went into a bit of a tantrum as I likely remember!

Tom: Oh, yes I did.

John: You want to hear about us. Right. We have record commitments with Warner Brothers in America and Virgin for the rest of the world. We will, of course, oblige them, but, in the meantime, there is the possibility of us doing a soundtrack to a film in Hollywood. This interests us greatly.

Tom: What are . . .

John: We are not a band, we are a company. We have many interests. We are also making our own film in England right now at this very moment.

Tom: The music that you will do for the record companies that you mentioned. How will this music differ from what we thought was rock 'n' roll?

John: It's no more of that twelve-bar ditty, waving hair in the breeze, platform boots, flap your flair nonsense. It's not a packaged image of third-rate idiots. It's not a pose. We just do our stuff, hated as it usually is. I was very shocked by the reviews of the last album. I believe none of them. I think they liked us for the wrong reasons.

Tom: Well you told me all the things --

John: Trendy reasons. Can I have a cigarette again, please?

-- The Tomorrow Show with Tom Snyder, 6/27/80

Is this exchange -- a video clip of which I have featured previously -- nihilism? The answer is that it so totally and utterly is not. When most former Lydon-naysayers encounter this golden nugget of Lydon lore with refreshed or attentive eyes, they find it exceedingly difficult to deny its brilliance. Fuck the charlatans like David Bowie: in the late '70's and early '80's John Lydon's total immersion in the trappings of a persona of his own invention is truly breathtaking to behold.

Of course it was rife with internal contradictions, of course it announced ambitions on which it could never ultimately make good. That's all more or less the point. The lines between theater and reality are blurred, and this blurring is always a gift to art, even if, from time to time, it may have cost Lydon his credibility in vast expanses of American straight society, people who are used to having their expectations and assumptions confirmed; people who are used to mediocrity. It's not these people to whom Lydon was or should have been reaching out: rather, it was their disaffected children. Who needs, after all, the kind of 'credibility' that would have accrued to him, to his name, to his brand were he to have on such occasions restrained himself from rocketing at breakneck speed to the spectacularly eloquent rhetorical extremes to which he would push his capacity to negate??

I'll tell you where such restraint would have gotten Lydon -- which is also, by the way, what we'd have gotten from him. Picture a John Lydon who focused not on individual emancipation, but on large-scale political change? A John Lydon who aims for the approval of the broadest possible cross-section of the music- and culture-consuming population. A John Lydon focused upon moderation; a John Lydon whose raison d'etre is consensus-building! All manner of restraint, politeness, dependability, bang for yer buck!, middlebrow-ness, all couched in a facile/sheek rhetoric of radicalism...

A John Lydon, in other words, who is out to uphold such binaries as authenticity vs. disposable pop, manly-man vs. pussy-licker, solidarity through discipline vs. creative, anarchistic utopianism, politics vs. beauty, brotherhood vs. individualism, etc., instead of setting out to dissolve these binaries. A John Lydon who first pauses to consider whether or not you will find what he has to say palatable before letting you know what he thinks. A John Lydon whose idea of respecting his audience is to be nice.

We're not necessarily out there to give people a good time.

-- Keith Levene, describing P.i.L's live performances, 1978.

So, what would this parallel-universe John Lydon look like?

It would look like The Clash, of course!

III. The Clash vs. The Sex Pistols

And, after all, there's nothing wrong with The Clash, in the same way that there's nothing wrong with the Stones's Sticky Fingers. You know, play it at the afternoon barbecue, and I won't complain.

But whereas The Clash was good -- at times, even great -- it was always just a rock 'n' roll band. The Sex Pistols and early P.i.L was and is much much much more than that.

To explain why the Pistols are far-and-away the greatest of the original wave of UK punk bands we could simply point out Lydon's and Co.'s disdain for the term 'punk' -- who the fuck gave you license to label me? insisted ** John Lydon in 1976, when the term first appeared in the UK press, describing him as 'King of the Punks'. And as for 'rock', The Sex Pistols were, after all supposed to be that Last Rock 'n' Roll Band. In other words, rock is "vile. It's dead, it's a disease."

But I'll go a tiny bit further to verify that beyond a shadow of a doubt, that The Sex Pistols kick The Clash's ass every time. As I remarked earlier, just take a look at The Clash's audience:

I give you Stephen Metcalf, Slate's good-natured -- if somewhat mealy-mouthed -- book critic-guy, in whose estimation The Clash reigns supreme. If ever you find yourself participating in the tried-and-true punk rock parlor game of THE CLASH VS. THE SEX PISTOLS: WHICH IS THE GREATEST PUNK BAND OF ALL TIME??, would you really want to find yourself choosing this man's side? Just look at him! It's so clear that he really really likes Bruce Springsteen, and probably what's more, he uses the phrase "creative class" with a straight face. I can't see for sure, but is that a pair of khaki shorts that he's wearing with his winning wrinkled blazer/twice-unbuttoned shirt combo? Try and convince me that he doesn't wear Birkenstocks, that he doesn't in fact refer to them as his "Birks," and that he doesn't wear his Birks while he listens to London Calling on his I-Phone, while sunning himself at his friends' timeshare? Just go ahead and try.

Metcalf reveals that he's partial to The Clash in an article that was published by Slate in 2005. In this article, he refers to the Pistols as "a bunch of lowlifes tossed together by a cunning impresario." I should explain that it's not entirely clear whether Metcalf means this as a dis or as high praise. Frankly, very few things about Metcalf's article are even partially clear, and the few things that are clear are also stupid.

Case in point: Metcalf's pro-Clash stance appears to hinge on the fact that -- unlike The Sex Pistols -- The Clash weren't in actuality a punk band at all. Instead, they were a rock 'n' roll band! And bulwarking Metcalf's thesis is the fact that the Strummer/Jones songwriting team consisted of a (furtively) middle class guy (Strummer) and a partner who was truly working class (Jones). Previous examples he identifies -- after conducting careful research -- are Jagger/Richards (middle class/working class) and Lennon/McCartney.

(I've heard it said many times that Lennon -- the writer, after all, of the brilliant "Working Class Hero" -- was not himself working class, but this point has been wildly overstated. Fine, he was upper-lower class then. There just wasn't that much of a difference. My real point, of course, is that the Metcalfs of the world are wasting their and our time by using such dumb criteria to categorize musical or pop-cultural phenomena. And my real real point is that the Metcalfs of the world should just, um...like, NOT write about music or pop culture or punk rock in the first place. [I should add that I do dig the specs he's wearing in this pic.***])

IV. The USA's malaise means that The Sex Pistols & early P.i.L
make more intuitive sense to us than ever.

And so anyway. This is where I would like to enter the conversation. Because, for some of the reasons articulated in the upper reaches of this post, the majority of media in the USA still get Lydon totally wrong. Even -- or perhaps especially -- the media that purport to like him. Doubtless for all the wrong reasons; trendy reasons. It's for all of the same reasons that a sizable portion of the American mainstream did understand the slogan-politics and militarism/machismo of The Clash. (And to give Strummer & Co. some credit, they too were obviously turned into a self-caricature for reasons that were not always the band's own doing.)

Lydon's art is not 'nihilistic'. Nor is it 'ironic'. Nor is it 'stream-of-consciousness'. Nor is or has Lydon ever been a 'bad singer'. In fact, he is the single most superb, innovative, important and influential singer of the last 30 years. Is Lydon's music 'punk rock'? Only if you mean it in the way that recognizes that 'punk rock' has no meaning.

Is Lydon's art 'oppositional'? You fucking bet it is. And herein lies the key.

To be continued...


________________

* Of course, in aftermaths of both the Pistols and of September 11th, people also eventually stopped thinking about it, which is a more complex issue that we won't go into right now.

** I'm paraphrasing here.

*** I should also point out, if I've not made it clear, that I actually like The Clash. I simply don't think they hold a candle to The Sex Pistols. This holds both musically and with respect to cultural significance. Not that I really believe those two things can be separated, but let's save that discussion for another day.....

Aphorisms.

I.
There is no greater instance of neglectful parenting than the failure to cease voting at the age of sixty.

II.
Don't say it differently; mean it differently.

A dialogue and two aphorisms:Cable 'news' = MTV for senior citizens.

I. *
John Cage: Human beings need to dream, and to dream always.

Thrasymachus: But it's against company policy to dream.

JC: [momentary silence]... Human beings need to dream, and to dream always.

T: But my employer would have me fired were I to engage in this activity. And yet, you say that human beings need to dream always.

JC: As to the statement about your employer, I can only take your word for it. As to the matter of human beings dreaming, yes. Human beings need to dream always.

T: Would you have me fired from my job?

JC: I would no more have you fired from your job than I would have you receive a promotion and a raise in pay. I would no more have you receive a promotion and raise in pay than I would have you drink your coffee with two lumps of sugar, rather than your usual one lump, during your morning coffee break: the coffee break that you take in the large foyer outside your office, in which you sit facing the same direction as the Rauschenberg painting that hangs in the foyer of the adjoining house .


II.
There's no sense in despair. This isn't to say that there's no sense in your having been led to despair. Quite the opposite! It remains, however, that there's no sense in despair.


III.
Cable news -- all of it: CNN, MSNBC, Fox News, Whatever Else -- is not news. But don't hate it for what it's not. Hate it instead for what it is: MTV for Senior Citizens.



* These do not represent the words or ideas -- real or imagined -- of the late John Cage. They are instead wholly the creation of our blogger. Same = true as regards the portrayal of Thrasymachus.

Dick Cheney is a charlatan, demagogue & crook:Who honestly doubts that our VP ordered the CIA to lie to us?

Remember the run-up to the Iraq War? Remember how it was -- much like today -- a depressing, infuriating time? Everywhere you turned, you found unwelcome reminders that a gang of sleazy assholes -- a.k.a., the Bush Administration -- were running the country, that they quite obviously were eager to invade Iraq, and that they would find a way to do so no matter what? We knew that they were lying to us: that was never in question. What is tantalizing, however, is the prospect that actual concrete evidence and testimony might pop up that would make the nature of these lies comprehensible to our credulous fellow citizens.

Journalist Ron Suskind wouldn't need to try very hard to convince me and most intelligent people I know that the White House -- and Dick Cheney, specifically -- ordered the CIA to forge a document in order to steer popular will in the direction of supporting the invasion of Iraq. Suskind's new book The Way of the World, trotted out a couple of days ago amidst a deftly-coordinated publicity blitz, claims precisely this.

Remember the infamous "top secret memo" -- this stuff is actually quite hilarious -- purportedly containing proof not only that 9/11-pilot, al-Qaeda terrorist Mohammed Atta was "trained by Saddam," but conveniently, in the same memo(!) that Saddam had purchased a uranium shipment from Niger -- or, as George W. Bush put it, in his greatest "I'm too dumb to be a liar!!!" moment -- "from Africa"?

Anyway, that memo was revealed to be a forgery within, like, two days of Bush's retarded speech. But the Administration and its neocon minions had garnered the necessary momentum to invade Iraq.

About this forged memo, Suskind reveals something totally believable to my ears, but also quite astonishing. Here's a reprint of a note he posted on the Web site The Huffington Post:

The Forged Iraqi Letter: What Just Happened?
Ron Suskind

What just happened? Evidence. A secret that has been judiciously kept for five years just spilled out. All of what follows is new, never reported in any way:

The Iraq Intelligence Chief, Tahir Jalil Habbush -- a man still carrying a $1 million reward for capture, the Jack of Diamonds in Bush's famous deck of wanted men -- has been America's secret source on Iraq. Starting in January of 2003, with Blair and Bush watching, his secret reports began to flow to officials on both sides of the Atlantic, saying that there were no WMD and that Hussein was acting so odd because of fear that the Iranians would find out he was a toothless tiger. The U.S. deep-sixed the intelligence report in February, "resettled" Habbush to a safe house in Jordan during the invasion and then paid him $5 million in what could only be considered hush money.

In the fall of 2003, after the world learned there were no WMD -- as Habbush had foretold -- the White House ordered the CIA to carry out a deception. The mission: create a handwritten letter, dated July, 2001, from Habbush to Saddam saying that Atta trained in Iraq before the attacks and the Saddam was buying yellow cake for Niger with help from a "small team from the al Qaeda organization." *

The mission was carried out, the letter was created, popped up in Baghdad, and roiled the global newcycles in December, 2003 (conning even venerable journalists like Tom Brokaw). The mission is a statutory violation of the charter of the CIA, and amendments added in 1991, prohibiting the CIA from conducting disinformation campaigns on U.S. soil.

So, here we go again: the administration is in full attack mode, calling me names, George Tenet is claiming he doesn't remember any such thing -- just like he couldn't remember "slam dunk" -- and reporters are scratching their heads. Everything in my book is on the record, with many sources. And so, we watch and wait....

Hear Suskind explain further on NPR's Fresh Air. When two of Suskind's sources, former CIA director George Tenet, whom we know already to be a blowhard, and CIA official Robert Richer chickened out on their previous testimony, Suskind followed up by sharing some of the transcripts of his interviews, which...ahem...say precisely what Suskind had portrayed them as saying. Suskind's introduction reveals just how weird and suspicious Richer's retraction is:

Rob Richer received a copy of The Way of the World on Monday night, August 4, the day before publication. On Tuesday, he said he had read key portions of the book and was comfortable with what they contained. Later that day, though, he issued the following the statement:

"I never received direction from George Tenet or anyone else in my chain of command to fabricate a document from Habbash as outlined in Mr Suskind's book."

A quick excerpt of the partial transcript:

Ron: The intent--the basic raison d'etre of this product is to get, is to create, here's a letter with what's in it. Okay, here's what we want on the letter, we want it to be released as essentially a representation of something Habbush says. That's all it says, that's the one paragraph. And then you pass it to whomever to do it. To get it done.

Rob: It probably passed through five or six people. George probably showed it to me, but then passed it probably to Jim Pavitt, the DDO, who then passed it down to his chief of staff who passed it to me. Cause that's how--you know, so I saw the original. I got a copy of it. But it was, there probably was--

Ron: Right. You saw the original with the White House stationery, but you didn't--down the ranks, then it creates other paper.

Rob: Yeah, no, exactly. But I couldn't tell you--again: I remember it happening, I remember a terrible brief kinda joking dialogue about it, but that was it.

. . .

Ron: Now this is from the Vice President's Office is how you remembered it--not from the president?

Rob: No, no, no. What I remember is George saying, 'we got this from'--basically, from what George said was 'downtown.'

Ron: Which is the White House?

Rob: Yes. But he did not--in my memory--never said president, vice president, or NSC. Okay? But now--he may have hinted--just by the way he said it, it would have--cause almost all that stuff came from one place only: Scooter Libby and the shop around the vice president.

Ron: Yeah, right.

Rob: But he didn't say that specifically. I would naturally--I would probably stand on my, basically, my reputation and say it came from the vice president.

Ron: Right, I'm with you, I'm with you. But there wasn't anything in the writing that you remember saying the vice president.

Rob: Nope.

Ron: It just had the White House stationery.

Rob: Exactly right.

Ron: That's fine, White House stationery's fine. Everything's from there. You know, that's the center point. But not OVP's Office. It's just the White House. It comes from the White House. That's plain and simple.

Rob: And you know, if you've ever seen the vice president's stationery, it's on the White House letterhead. It may have said OVP. I don't remember that, so I don't want to mislead you. . . .

If you want to dig into this stuff even more deeply, I direct you to a fantastic article by Salon.com's Joe Conason. Conason does a remarkably thorough job of verifying some of Suskind's claims while simultaneously providing loads of background and connecting of existing dots.

Here's a link to the original piece that broke the news of the existence of the memo, a piece that hangs hysterically and credulously on every fucking word of what was soon thereafter revealed to be a sloppily executed forgery. It's written by neocon hired gun Con Coughlin in UK's The Telegraph. Awfully strange isn't it, as Conason observes, that it should first have fallen into the hands of a neocon like Conason, and so soon after it was "discovered."

I agree entirely with this piece in the UK's Guardian on The White House's implausible deniability.

I find it howlingly hilarious to imagine people being shocked, positively shocked!! by the revelation that the White House told the CIA to lie to the American people. Anybody who was paying attention knew that the months preceding the invasion of Iraq saw the American moo-cow masses (I include myself in that number, although the nature of such campaigns suggest that they are not aimed to in any way convince me of anything!!) subjected to an unrelenting, blitzkrieg of a disinformation campaign.

I guess what I'm getting at is that I find these kinds of exposé stories to be plodding and dull in the extreme. But the idea that Suskind's findings could wake up the mooingest of moo cows to what you and I have long known to be true....well, that's tantalizing. It's not often that I find myself wanting to see someone -- even a political figure -- "taken down," his legacy discredited, his name shamed, his lies exposed. Unless, of course, that political figure is a Republican.

I can't say honestly that I wouldn't enjoy seeing that fat, fraudulent lying crook Dick Cheney go down in a great big ball of flames. It's pretty hard not to hate the motherfucker, isn't it?


* Emphasis mine.

Thomas Frank on The Colbert Report

Thomas Frank discusses his new book The Wrecking Crew: How Conservatives Rule with Stephen Colbert, the latter in full-tilt on-screen persona mode. Frank: "What you have misunderstood, Stephen, is that the argument of the book is that conservatives suck."



Thomas Frank is unquestionably one of my favorite people: he's a great writer, he's funny as hell and his politics are exactly on the money. Most importantly, he takes the piss out of hypocrites and con-artists in a voice that updates the polemical stylings of the old-timey, mustachioed populists.

See his regular column in The Wall Street Journal 'The Tilting Yard', read his books, all of which are outstanding, and either recall fondly or discover afresh the grandeur that was/is The Baffler.

In appreciation of Robert Christgau. Alternatively: Is Tom Petty dumb, or just from the South?

Are you:

• unemployed?
  
• writing your thesis?
• working a temp job?
• a member of the "creative class"? *
  
• a shut-in?

Day after aimless, plodding, meaningless day, do you find yourself adrift in an ocean of tedium and melancholy, clinging for dear life to the tatters of any minuscule tid-bit of Stuff White People Like-like guffaw-fodder that the chill wind of the World Wide Web doth by happenstance bloweth your way? Growing tired of refreshing Google News every thirty seconds to gawk at the glorious pile of debris where the Gonzales Justice Department once stood? Are you worried that you may have -- in a phrase coined by my brother-in-law -- "reached the end of the Internet?"

Have I got the time-waster for you. At robertchristgau.com, the bored Web-surfer has at her fingertips a complete archive of the music reviews, essays in cultural criticism and -- what d'ya call 'em? -- think pieces published in the long career of Greenwich Village Voice-contributor Robert Christgau. The self-appointed "Dean of American Rock Critics" is fairly often way wrong in his conclusions, but this wrongness makes him no less entertaining and no less weirdly informative. Christgau pioneered the technique of confining each review to a short, snarky blurb, whose density suggests hours devoted by the critic to deliberating over every detail of the music and lyrics, over the aesthetic and political significance of the artist and his work. Or, more likely, it suggests hours devoted to plotting sadistically ways in which the critic shall go about needling the artist for his basic weakness, that of not being Robert Christgau.

Christgau's style -- epitomized by the Consumer Guide collections that he publishes periodically (or used to, anyway) -- is imitated as widely and as hamfistedly as that of his contemporary, the late Lester Bangs. But neither Christgau nor Bangs should be blamed for the naff undergrad shit that predominates on Pitchforkmedia Dot Com. Neither is it Christgau's fault that his habit of assigning letter grades to albums has over the last few decades become standard practice in 'alternative'- and Entertainment weeklies. I'll wager that this practice of his was pretty nifty when he began writing rock criticism in the late 1960s. But of course I have no way of knowing.

Anyway, so let me share with you some of my favorites from robertchristgau.com's bottomless well of erudite snark.

An artist that Christgau has a real problem with is Tom Petty. Now, personally -- after deciding for a while that I disliked Petty for being the worst kind of pandering pseudo-populist -- I have come around (as I had initially done) to respecting tremendously Petty's talents as a craftsman of pop songs and pop records. And anyway, having a broad audience is a good thing. Plus, it turns out he's really just a pretty smart and clever guy. (Any practitioner or connoisseur of songwriting and record-making should really read Paul Zollo's 2005 book Conversations With Tom Petty.)

But here in its entirety is Christgau's reaction in 1985 to what is admittedly Petty's worst album (not that I've ever heard the entire thing), Southern Accents, a 'concept album' about the South (Petty was born in Gainesville, Fla., from which he fled in his late teens/early 20s for L.A., fame and fortune):

Petty's problem isn't that he's dumb, or even that people think he's dumb, although they have reason to. It's that he feels so sorry for himself he can't think straight. Defending the South made sense back when Ronnie Van Zant was writing "Sweet Home Alabama," but in the Sun Belt era it's just pique. The modernizations of sometime coproducer Dave Stewart mitigate the neoconservative aura somewhat, but unmitigating it right back is Petty's singing, its descent from stylization into affectation most painful on side one's concept songs. Side two is less consequential, and better. Note, however, that its show-stopper is "Spike," in which a bunch of rednecks, I mean good old boys, prepare to whup a punk. It's satire. Yeah sure. B-

Ever the anti-elitist's elitist, and first and foremost a lover of hooks and back-beats, Christgau strives always to gives credit where credit is due, even if he never quite lets Petty off the hook for either his whiny rasp or for what I suppose Christgau detects to be traces of Petty's closeted, ongoing affinity for the reactionary backwardness of the part of the country from under whose thumb he was so quick to escape. Here's Christgau's blurb on Petty's 1993 release Greatest Hits:

Sometimes it's hard to remember what a breath of fresh air the gap-spanning MTV figurehead was in 1976. So revisit this automatic multiplatinum, a treasury of power pop that doesn't know its name--snappy songs! Southern beats! gee! Like Billy Joel, say, or the Police, his secret isn't that he's a natural singles artist--it's that he's too shallow to merit full concentration except when he gets it all right, and maybe not then. Petty is the formalist of the ordinary guy, taking his musical pleasure in roots, branches, commerce, art, whatever gets him going without demanding anything too fancy of his brain or his rear end. Footloose by habit and not what you'd call a ladies' man, he often feels confused or put upon, and though he wishes the world were a better place, try to take what he thinks is his and he won't back down. He has one great virtue--his total immersion in rock and roll. A-

Christgau nails something in the last sentence. And he also nails the thing that makes enjoying Petty's music sometimes feel icky -- its preoccupations with ordinariness. What he doesn't seem to give its due of course is just how singular Petty's gift is. TP does, after all, create things that are sublime, even if he's fashioning these things out of the bric-à-brac of ordinary, self-centered white guy experience in consumer society. And there's nothing wrong fundamentally with doing that, nor is there anything inherently icky about the joy that accrues therefrom, even if there's something shallow and momentary about it.

Where Christgau's characterization holds force is in its cognizance of the fundamental conservatism or at least quietism of the consciousness that inheres in Petty's songs. It supplies something life-affirming to millions of us, but some of us among those millions know that there is an element of pandering -- of pity and of charity, if you will -- that may help people to hold on for dear life when the times are tough, but that responds only rarely and fleetingly to the ambition to rise above. There is a stank that wafts off of much of Petty's work that is instantly recognizable as an opiate, that functions to deflect the listener's attention -- and now the soaring, memorable chorus -- away from her desire for change.

Take for example the once-ubiquitous radio smash-hit "Into the Great Wide Open": rebellion stripped of its politics, in which youthful dalliances with hedonism are tagged with familiar moral valances and lack any potential for creative growth, improved self-understanding, or emancipation from prevailing cultural and moral values. The "great wide open" that the song's male and female protagonists behold, stretching out to the horizon before them, is at all times implicated by the song's narrator as at least ironic and probably futile. A not-unsubtle message is that the freedom to make and follow your own dreams is always a chimerical kind of freedom, its pleasant 'reality' perceptible only through the lens of naïveté or in the impetuosity of youth. Finally, the determining forces by which the protagonists either sink or swim in quicksands of the San Fernando Valley desert are in the end the forces of the marketplace, of the extent of one's popularity, of one's net worth.

All of this would be fine if "Into the Great Wide Open" were specifically a cautionary tale, a critique of the status quo. Were the song an exposé of the structure of cheap myths at the hands of which the protagonists are hoodwinked, a structure whose stranglehold upon popular culture -- in whose grasp the protagonists had been seduced -- is tightened as a result of their participation in it (more grist for the mill). I don't mean a cheesy moralizing tale, but a narrative whose scope is sufficient to incorporate this particular angle. The "great wide open" is, after all, chimerical. What could be wrong with that?

But the song isn't a critique, nor is it an exposé. It is in fact a celebration of this very naïveté, of the 'exuberance of youth', in the most mainstream and cartoonish sense. Petty's narrator -- and no doubt the actual Tom Petty -- sees himself in the male protagonist (the Johnny Depp character, if you've seen the video). He locates in the protagonist Petty's own improbable escape from the reactionaryland of redneck northern Florida "into the great wide open" of sunny California and into his insanely successful career as a rock star. The irony in the song is that he, now a multi-platinum artist many times over, now knows that fame and fortune aren't all they're cracked up to be. He still has his ups and downs just like anybody else. He's grateful for his success, and satisfied with where his hard work and ambition have gotten him, but he's still searching for the right path, just as he always had. As before, his "future is wide open." 12-string guitar cadence.

So, far from deconstructing in specific terms what fallacies are inherent in the clichéd 'exuberance of youth', Petty's looking back wistfully and even nostalgically upon the vicissitudes of his own participation in this process. He's showing that he got banged up pretty good, but he made it through all right, and although things are never what you think they're going to end up to be, he's still happy to be alive, still up and at it. So don't fret.

This element of stasis, of things turning out to be all right in the end, characterizes much of Petty's work. It's a perfectly valid thing to think and talk and sing and feel about, but that doesn't change the fact that at its core is a kind of acceptance of the way things are. Petty is very sincere in what he communicates, and clearly feels love and affinity for his audience. That's not in question. The thing is that he does in effect pander to this audience, and there's no getting around it. I doubt that it's intentional, but this is why I say that Christgau is correct to detect and decry the pervasive ordinariness in Petty. His songs are imbued with a morality that is strongly felt and consistently held -- from which he "won't back down." But none of this changes the fact that it's basically shallow.

Of course, principles about which Christgau and I agree generally tell you nothing about whether or not we agree on a case-by-case basis (and that's part of the fun). For example, this is the totality of Christgau's review of 1991's Into The Great Wide Open, on which the eponymous track under discussion appears:

grant [sic] him this--he's a hooky sumbitch ("Into the Great Wide Open," "Two Gunslingers) *

Oh, and the asterisk means 'honorable mention'. These items are rated on a scale of *, **, or ***, instead of receiving the letter grades that are reserved more worthwhile fare. So, it's a positive review, as far as that goes, just a not a very important record. Christgau does, however, assign a letter grade to Petty's Rick Rubin-produced Wildflowers (1994), an album that I and a near-consensus of everybody else everywhere consider without question to be Petty's chef d'oeuvre:

If he were a flower, he'd be wilted, but since he's really more a dick, call him torpid. That Rick Rubin, what a laid-back guy. B-

All right, that's enough CG on TP.

Moving on to another ultra-mainstream -- in fact, even ultra-mainstreamer -- act: the mega-hyped, chart-topping, globe-trotting, longevity-having, sartorially phase-shifting, rich-as-shit u2, beloved by ordinary punters and despotic heads-of-state alike. And, of course, don't forget The Children. Christgau on their first offering, 1980's Boy:

Their youth, their serious air, and their guitar sound are setting a small world on fire, and I fear the worst. No matter where they're starting off--not as big as Zep, maybe, but not exactly on the grunge circuit either--their echoey vocals already teeter on the edge (in-joke) of grandiosity, so how are they going to sound by the time they reach the Garden? What kind of Christian idealists lift their best riff from PIL (or from anywhere at all)? As bubble-headed as the teen-telos lyrics at best. As dumb as Uriah Heep at worst. C+

Note his recognition that U2's The Edge nicked the riff of "I Will Follow" from Keith Levene's incendiary performance on PiL's "Public Image," the latter a vastly superior song in every respect imaginable. That wins Our Critic some brownie points, awarded by Our Blogger. By 1987, which saw the release of the, erm..., let's face it, seminal LP The Joshua Tree, Christgau -- recognizing that the conquering of the world was at this point not only inevitable but within the Irish foursome's grasp -- has a lot more time for l'antics de Bono and his Band of Nominally Christian Soldiers:

Let it build and ebb and wash and thunder in the background and you'll hear something special--mournful and passionate, stately and involved. Read the lyrics and you won't wince. Tune in Bono's vocals and you'll encounter one of the worst cases of significance ever to afflict a deserving candidate for superstardom. B

Although he seems already to be sharpening his fangs in preparation for the band's eventual Wrong Turn, Christgau hands out an even higher letter-grade for U2's shrilly political and hysterically earnest 'four newly-jet-setter-level rich Irishmen return to their American roots' extravaganza, 1988's Rattle And Hum (and, if you didn't already, now you know what eux means):

Pretentious? Eux? Naturellement, mais that ain't all. Over the years they've melded Americana into their Old World riffs, and while Bono's "Play the blues, Edge" overstates this accomplishment, their groove is some kind of rock and roll wrinkle. This partly live double-LP is looser and faster than anything they've recorded since their first live mini-LP, with the remakes of "Pride" and "Silver and Gold" and "Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" improved by both practice and negligence. A good half of the new stuff could knock over unsuspecting skeptics, the B.B./Hendrix/Dylan cameos are surprising and generous, and as a token of self-knowledge Bono concludes a lecture on South Africa with a magisterially sarcastic "I don't wanna bug ya." Yet as usual things don't get any better when you decide to find out exactly what he's waxing so meaningful about. B+

It's funny, because a lot of other critics and ordinary schmoes felt that with Rattle And Hum itself, U2 was ripe for backlash. For all of the reasons that Christgau lays out, no less. This is part of what's so fun about sifting through his reviews. Despite being poised to move in for the kill, he suddenly changes tack. This is an example of his occasional tendency to tip his hat and let 'em run a victory lap, perhaps in a compensatory gesture his failure to laud sufficiently the artist's previous masterstroke.

And sure enough, the Dean of American Rock Critics once more catches his unsuspecting readership unawares by thumbing his nose at what everyone else deems to be U2's remarkable Second Moment of Triumph, if not the band's true watershed moment in and of itself. Here is what Christgau offers on 1991's Achtung Baby:



This is Christgau's way of saying that it's "A Dud," which he further explains "is a bad record whose details rarely merit further thought. At the upper level it may merely be overrated, disappointing, or dull. Down below it may be contemptible."

As is often the case when Christgau decides that a record is somewhere between overrated and contemptible, we have to wait a couple of years or more for his explanation, when and only if he feels that the band in question once again merits his attention. His review of 1993's Zooropa adheres to this pattern, and it's opening line is vintage Christgau:

I've never seen the point of hating U2. Their sound was their own from the git, and for a very famous person, Bono has always seemed thoughtful and good-hearted. I liked what I read about their pop irony, too. Problem was, I couldn't hear it--after many, many tries, Achtung Baby still sounded like a damnably diffuse U2 album to me, and I put it in the hall unable to describe a single song. But having processed this blatant cool move, I'm ready to wax theoretical. Achtung Baby was produced by Daniel Lanois, and Daniel Lanois isn't Brian Eno--he's Eno's pet romantic, too soft to undercut U2's grandiosity, although I admittedly enjoy a few of its anthems-in-disguise now. Zooropa, on the other hand, is half an Eno album the way Low and "Heroes" were. The difference is that Bowie and Eno were fresher in 1977 than Bono and Eno are today. Each must have hoped that the other's strength would patch over his own weakness--that Eno's oft-wearisome affectlessness would be mitigated by Bono's oft-wearisome expressionism and vice versa. But tics ain't strengths, and although these pomo paradoxes have their moments, when I'm feeling snippy the whole project seems a disastrously affected pastiche of relinquished principle. B-

Does Christau ever come around to just dole out some unqualified props for the band that he doesn't see the point of hating? Well, no. But he comes awfully close at yet another unlikely moment. Most critics declared 2002's All That You Can't Leave Behind to be U2's 'return to form' -- with all of the good and bad that this implies. Christgau applauds the album as the group's finest record to date:

I know they're with a new label if not corporation, but the transformation I imagine was simpler. They woke up one day, glanced around a marketplace where art wasn't mega anymore, and figured that since they'd been calling themselves pop for half of their two-decade run, maybe they'd better sit down and write some catchy songs. So they did. The feat's offhandedness is its most salient charm and nagging limitation. If I know anything, which with this band I never have, their best. A-

Lest, however, we miscast Christgau as a contrarian for contrarianism's sake, The Dean's high regard for the now-defunct band Pavement -- whom critics venerate pretty much unanimously -- is generous and laudable, if not exactly magnanimous. Now, obviously, he and everyone else is absolutely 100% correct to praise Malkmus & Co. to the high heavens and beyond.

As far as I've seen, no other artist comes close to a track record this consistently good in Christgau's oeuvre, and nor should she. (Even the good name of his beloved Velvet Underground was tarnished in its last years by charlatans who stood where Lou Reed was supposed to be.) Here's a listing of Pavement's LP's, each accompanied by the letter grade Christgau awarded it:

Slanted and Enchanted [Matador, 1992] A
Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain [Matador, 1994] A
Wowee Zowee [Matador, 1995] A
Brighten the Corners [Matador, 1997] A
Terror Twilight [Matador, 1999] A-

The last one is a bit of a gift, methinks. It probably deserves a C+. That's love for ya, and we all know that "love is blindness." Anyway. For now, I leave you with Christgau's review of Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain, for my money, a brilliant -- or anyway, right-headed -- piece of writing:

Whether the tunes come out and smack you in the kisser or rise from the clatter like a forgotten promise, this is a tour de force melodywise, which is not to get dewy-eyed about its market potential. They'll never truly sell out until they take voice lessons--as alternarockers from Stipe to Cobain know full well, soulful strength is the pop audience's bottom line. Me, I find their eternally pubescent croaks and whinnies exceedingly apt, and though in theory I always prefer songs that aren't about music, any bunch of obscurantist jokers who can inject the words "Stone Temple Pilots they're elegant bachelors" into my hum matrix have got a right to sing the rocks. A

___________________

* Breaking news: Turns out there's no such fucking thing.

Ramblings about the near-future possibility of an American Left.

A thought that pops into my head from time to time: it seems to me that many attempts by journalists and scholars to identify why there's little to no real Left in American political life have approached the question historically, as when Eric Foner asked "Why Is There No Socialism in the United States?"; culturally, in the Frankfurt School's and other traditions; economically, as in Herbert Marcuse's discussions of the post-World War II "affluent society" and recent analyses of the character of global capital offered by David Harvey, etc. And I could continue, but I won't, because I'm just setting up my -- open-ended, exploratory and probably naive -- question.

Consider that in this moment, the moral imperative facing all Americans -- sincere people of all political persuasions -- is the condemnation of and counteraction against eight years of radical Right-wing activity. A radical movement that has brought the country (and her citizens) to its knees, and that has made the world a more dangerous place for everyone. Bizarrely, any ethical and responsible political counteraction must begin with a premise that is fundamentally conservative. Not ideologically conservative, but procedurally conservative. Scaling back an out-of-control militarism, restoring the rule of law and the separation of powers, putting responsible people in charge of the public infrastructure, rather than staffing agencies with hired goons who are opposed ideologically to the very policies that these agencies were set up to pursue.

In other words, how does the Left respond in a coherent and progressive way to a Republican regime of national and global politics that has been at once unquestionably Rightist and unquestionably radical? When the Left is faced with an ethical imperative to restore the rule of law, to rebuild the system to the extent that people can have at least some patchy faith that their government is not totally corrupt, how does the Left retain its Leftness through this process of rebuilding? How does it avoid the trap of venerating a nostalgia-induced conception of the way things were before the Bushies fucked everything up? How does the Left stay in touch with its longer term commitments to a more robust democratization, a greater transparency in government, the redress of systemic and structural causes of social injustice? I've never been quite able to figure out how to think about this issue, and by all appearances the commentariat is stumbling in much the same way.

We know that our government is pursuing immoral policies; that these policies threaten to screw over any possibility of a future in which human beings can be happy, free and treated with dignity. We know that the Geneva Conventions must be respected; that the Executive branch must not overstep its authority; that wiretapping without a warrant is and should be illegal and considered unconstitutional; that the FCC should be preventing media consolidation rather than mandating it, against the will of the American people; that torture is wrong, and the fact that the United States admittedly conducts it is hemorrhaging the last of the United States's credibility and moral authority; that governing by instilling fear into the population is to violate any chance of substantive individual rights.

But what can be the Left's response to all this, other than disgust and an impassioned call to action to restore human rights, dignity and due process, to clamor for the conditions of the year 2000? Surely its response must go beyond this? I don't mean just in terms of political platforms, but in the realm of ideas and dreams, of aspiring to replace the status quo with new strategies that will prevent reiterations of the Bush administration's conduct of the past eight years? Mustn't it go beyond the critique of particular personalities and policies?

Don't misunderstand: I believe that the Left is correct to be disgusted by particular personalities, their cynical policies, their lies. And I think that it is indispensable that the Left form coalitions on the basis of the nation's widespread disgust with Bush and with the Republicans. That's why I'm a fervent supporter of Barack Obama. Among his many talents is that of consensus-building. Obama's abilities as a rhetorician alone represent our chance to wipe the slate clean of phony, professional-wrestling-style politics upon which Karl Rove's strategy capitalizes, and which secured for Bush his second term in office.

Although an attractive and charismatic personality himself, Obama's gifts paradoxically pull us away from the politics of personalities. That's because his ability to speak a language that seems to rise above the fray is structurally suited to emphasize commonalities among ostensibly disparate groups of voters. This has the effect of (1) drawing attention to the common ground upon which compromises can best be forged, and (2) therefore also -- although perhaps secondarily -- focusing political discourse upon substantive matters relating to this common ground, rather than upon himself, or, for instance, the role that his relationship with God plays in determining his foreign policy.

But allowing for the importance of these short-term coalitions and compromises -- and the indispensable role that Barack Obama can and should play in creating them -- I hope that the Left is also thinking about the future, because without a vision of the future, the Left will be reduced to a "law and order" movement. In other words: preoccupied with correcting the excesses of radical Republican policies; a Left whose ideological calling cards have to do with administrative expertise. "Law and order" aren't dirty words, mind you. Especially in wake of the Bush administration, they are meaningful and even urgent. It's the John Ashcrofts of the world who -- in the tradition of Nixon, Joseph McCarthy, etc. -- have taken those words and applied them to erosion of human liberty and the sanctioning of hate, torture and fear.

As important as it is, administrative expertise will not provide an ideological basis upon which to build a long-term strategy for the Left. And as urgent as it is that the Left criticize the hypocrisy, excess, and moral bankruptcy of the Right, at some point the Left must begin articulating a coherent set of alternatives. In practice, initially these alternatives needn't and perhaps shouldn't be earth-shattering. There's so much rebuilding to be done in the wake of eight years of incompetence and destruction.

However, in order even to start small, coherence demands that Left begin to think big. We need to think about the kind of world that we aspire to create. So, alongside the important task of restoring the rule of law, maybe we need to start thinking about how best to articulate what it is about the Bush regime that we so oppose, and what is at stake? What is it that hinges upon rectifying matters? Not just identifying Bush's crimes, but describing their destructive effect upon our country, upon the world and upon the fight for human liberty and happiness.

During Bush's eight years in office, we haven't just witnessed the Rightist regime break the letter of innumerable Constitutional mandates, laws, codes, treaties, conventions, doctrines, etc. What's even worse is that the Bush regime has done violence to the spirit of these laws. This is even more elemental, and cognizance of Bush's and Cheney's disregard and disdain for the spirit of the law is every bit as strong a basis upon which to build broad-ranging and effective political coalitions. For example: the Left should really be explaining why disregarding the US Constitution is to, in effect, spit upon the values represented in life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness. I'll wager that an ethic of human neighborliness, decency and honesty in some basic form is shared among human beings everywhere. (There's your political coalition....)

There's nothing new in the failure of United States policymakers to achieve these goals. Neither is there anything novel in the government cynically pursuing unsavory and immoral goals by cloaking its actions in the rhetoric of freedom and democracy. What's new is the rapidly escalating extent to which the Right, with overwhelming Executive branch power in its employ, does not even concern itself to pretend that its actions are consistent with American constitutional values or universal values of human freedom and dignity. What's novel -- and what's the most frightening of all -- is that the Bush administration at times welcomes actively the disdain, moral opprobrium and accusations of criminality of enormous sections of the citizenry of its own nation. The administration courts this opprobrium; it wears our outrage like a merit badge. For my money, this tendency, more than any other, has submerged the United States deeper and deeper into a creeping authoritarianism.

As radical as the Right's methods have been, what it's fighting for is still the same old shit: protecting the status quo for wealthy investors; providing an unregulated worldwide climate suited to the unchecked power of huge corporations; repression of autonomy, freedom of movement, thought, and expression; the use of bullying tactics to erode the freedom of the press; the de-funding of public education; the de-skilling of teachers; interference with the ability of public officials -- especially scientists -- to communicate the conclusions to which their expertise leads them; nationalism; militarism; theocracy; secrecy; opacity; the destruction of public infrastructure generally; an active disdain for the existence of public infrastructure; interference in the affairs of formally (if not substantively) sovereign nations; disrespect for anyone/anything it doesn't understand.....

Aphorisms

• An inability to comprehend something does not imply the thing's nonexistence.
  
  
• Being convinced of something isn't the same as knowing it to be true.
  
  
• Just because you're right doesn't mean that the thing you're right about is important.

Strange Season featured in Ball of Wax Audio Quarterly, Volume 12

The Seattle-based musician Jack Shriner, leader of the band Strange Season is a singer-songwriter, a multi-instrumentalist and an exceptionally talented guitar player.

All of these qualities are on display in his contribution to the current edition of the Ball of Wax Audio Quarterly. His song "Inside Voices" -- like most music worth listening to -- is kind of difficult to describe. A track culled from Jack's eclectic second album A Tour of Brief Reunions (available through Jack's Myspace page), "Inside Voices" concerns a zigzagging bass groove that is put through its paces by the jazzbo-tribalism of Dave Flaherty's drums. Flaherty's timekeeping is precise, as close attention to his high hat and bass drum will confirm. However, his toms and snare are engaged in a fascinating dialogue with this metronomic pulse, while Jack's melodic and jerky precision bass slips in and out of the gaps between beats.

All right; enough crap metaphors. Alongside the above-described activity, an interesting ambience emerges from the interplay of 1980's plastic Yamaha synth-stringscapes, swirling piano chords, and obscenely inventive electric guitar lines.

Jack plays lots of shows these days in the pacific northwest, sometimes as a solo artist, and sometimes with his band Strange Season. In addition, his guitar playing and vocals appear on the début album by the Chicago-based band National Tryst, to be released this upcoming fall.

No surprise that journalism is dying, but this is seriously freaky.

Slate recently published a hilarious and disturbing article written by Michael Kinsley, titled A brilliant new scheme for measuring the productivity of journalists. It concerns remarks made by a guy named Randy Michaels who is apparently the "chief operating officer" of the Tribune Company, which owns The Chicago Tribune and The Los Angeles Times, in addition to myriad properties unrelated to journalism (the Chicago Cubs, for instance). An excerpt:

Last week an article appear[ing] on the Web site of Editor & Publisher...reported that one Randy Michaels...intends to address the ongoing distress of the newspaper industry brought on by the Internet—distress that already has led to massive layoffs and buyouts and a major crisis of confidence if not identity at even the most prestigious and established and, one would have thought, profitable newspapers—by starting to measure the productivity of the journalists who are employed at the various tentacles of that institution.

Not such a big deal, right? Businessmen are always on the lookout for easily digestible metrics for determining "productivity," and these businessmen often convince themselves that these metrics actually mean something. Of course they don't, and they're really just ways of justifying and accounting for layoffs. But Kinsley goes on to describe the chillingly comical detail of Mr. Michaels's scheme:

Productivity will be measured by column-inches of words. In other words, the company will assume that the more words you write, the more productive you are. Or, to put it another way, if you use many, many, many words to make whatever point you may be trying to make or fact you are attempting to report, you will be considered more productive than another writer who takes pains to be concise—that is, to use fewer words rather than more words. This Michaels has apparently been sneaking around with his tape measure (or perhaps he uses an old-fashioned pica rule of the sort once favored by newspaper people during the era of the linotype machine) and has made the piquant discovery that while the average journalist at the Los Angeles Times produces 51 pages of words each year, his or her counterpart at the Hartford Courant, which is also owned by the very same Tribune Co., produces 300 pages of words each year. This is six times as many words. Or, to put it another way (and why not?), the Los Angeles Times journalist produces only one-sixth as many words as the one working in the newsroom of the Hartford Courant. Michaels is completely unabashed, in fact he seems downright proud, of this idea of measuring productivity in column-inches. He said to Editor & Publisher, "This is a new thing. Nobody ever said, 'How many column inches did someone produce?' "

For many, many years, the Los Angeles Times was known for its verbosity, or tendency to use more words than other newspapers to say roughly the same thing. More recently, this habit of writing many, many words when far fewer could make the point as well or nearly so (which is the essence of verbosity) was discouraged at the Los Angeles Times....Today's idea is that a writer should produce as many words as possible, because that means you need fewer writers to produce the same number of words.

Kinsley goes on to reveal that Michaels's plan for cost-saving also involves stripping away much of the content of his newspapers. Michaels wants to reduce the amount of space accorded to articles such that it is equivalent -- 50/50 -- to the amount of space accorded to advertising. Kinsley does Michaels one better:

This Michaels is clearly a bright man. It won't be long before he figures out that you can have an equal number of advertising and editorial pages if you have none of either and simply stop publishing the paper. That way you won't have to employ any journalists at all.

Boumediene v. Bush: The moral legitimacy & political sustainability of America (i.e.: a future for her citizens) preserved by a narrow margin.

The decision of the Supreme Court's decision in Boumediene v. Bush has preserved the commitment of the United States of America to the rule of law, albeit by the narrowest of margins.

Justice Anthony Kennedy's majority opinion has of course provoked outraged sophistry, whiny self-righteousness and reckless hyperbole among the hired goons of the far Right. That's to be expected. Also to be fully expected is Justice Antonin Scalia's reckless, hyperbolic, whiny, self-righteous and outraged dissent. Scalia's dissent claims that Americans will certainly die as a consequence of the recognition of habeas corpus rights with respect to Guantánamo Bay detainees.

Uh. Even if Scalia's proclamation were somehow true -- which it isn't -- is Scalia asking us to accept a choice between (1) risking death as citizens of a nation that protects our civil liberties and (2) enjoying a marginally smaller risk of death as citizens of an authoritarian/totalitarian state in which our civil liberties can be brushed aside?

Scalia's not just a bully, but he's also a bully who's wrong. Moreover, he's hypocritical. For all of his rhetoric that his supposedly "originalist" jurisprudence somehow preserves political disinterestedness in Supreme Court decisions -- which he repeatedly claims to distinguish his jurisprudence from that of his colleagues -- his dissent is so brazenly political that Fox News/the Washington Times/the Weekly Standard/Rush "Pill-Popper" Limbaugh won't even need to ask their interns to "massage" the text of his incendiary remarks in order to fashion them into highly charged pieces of hard-Right propaganda. You can almost hear John Williams's fanfare-for-evil "The Imperial March" from The Empire Strikes Back.

Anyway, re the choice between liberty and life, I believe that we Americans were presented with a fantastic moral calculus in sixth grade history class:

Give me liberty, or give me death!

You know what? We should wake up and start addressing the real national security problem, which is that the Republican Party believes that the moral, legal and political authority of the United States can and should be bought and sold in times of national crisis or emergency.

Our future hinges on the durability of the rule of law, of civil rights. Without those things, all is lost. Fuck anyone who says otherwise. No one over the age of 50 had better dare to tell me otherwise, because this is an issue that concerns my future children. It's not about Scalia, nor is it about his children, nor is it about George W. Bush.

These people will all be dead and gone by the time the true ramifications of their negligence are felt, and most of their money will be gone with them. When the dust settles, the only thing that will matter to me, my loved ones, and to my children is whether or not I live in a nation of laws, in which civil liberties, due process and constitutional rights remain intact.

And so I take it very personally when Scalia mouths off about overriding these constitutional protections in order to preserve human life. Without our constitutional rights, we have no life, and we certainly can't in good faith expect to provide any kind of life for our children. Fuck you, Scalia: what about preserving my life? What about preserving the possibility of the lives of my children?

But, alas, Scalia's dissent isn't about me. And it isn't about you, Dear Reader. It has nothing to do with the document that protects us from totalitarianism and tyranny: U.S. Constitution. No, Scalia's dissent is about politics. More specifically: cultural politics. More specifically: the right of a small vanguard of ideological Executive Branch wackjobs to exercise unchecked power to break the law and violate the Constitution -- all of this under the cover of secrecy and without the slightest worry of ever having to be held accountable for chopping down the few remaining bulwarks that hold the tatters of our country aloft.

A succinct New York Times editorial gets it right: "Justice 5, Brutality 4." I had all but given up on the rag.

Seriously: why don't you read the opinion? Also, give a listen to the oral arguments, in which the razor-sharp questions posed by Justices Souter and Breyer will make you want to stand up and cheer.

Slavoj Žižek on authoritarian capitalism, other horrors.

In an interview, broadcast on Icelandic television (the date is unknown to me), Slavoj Žižek argues that the Left needs to take notice of the decoupling of capitalism and democracy, and--in the example of China, whose lead smaller states have begun to follow--the disturbing advance of authoritarian capitalism. Also discussed is biotechnology, the implications of which, he argues, traditional and current ethical discourses are ill-equipped to handle.