Deadly Dancing

Give online libs their due -- unlike their reactionary cousins, who screech and growl when faced with unpleasant facts, libs, in the main, can perform impressive verbal dances when dealing with issues for which they have no real answer. Instead of throwing up their hands and admitting that they are stumped, they leap, twist, stretch, hop & slide across their respective stages, trying to make it seem like a lot is going on when instead they're merely buying rhetorical time.

A few days ago, Glenn Greenwald, a New York City litigator who's become an online lib darling, posted some thoughts at Crooks and Liars about a possible US withdrawal from Iraq and pondered what would be the "moral" rationale to support such a thing. Greenwald does the On The One Hand/On The Other shimmy, herking and jerking to the music in his head, but he never really comes to any solid conclusion:

"There is a good case to be made for troop withdraw [sic]. But it can’t be persuasively made by easy anti-war sloganeering. Such a case can only be made by arguing that our ongoing military presence will not help to salvage a country which we have shattered."

And in case you didn't appreciate that move, he does it again, almost immediately:

"There is a compelling argument to make that we should withdraw our troops. But that argument can only be based on the premise that our troops -- contrary to the views of the elected Iraqi government -- are doing more harm than good, not that the invasion was unjustified in the first place."

In fact, this single point is pretty much his whole argument, which is why he repeats it over and over, trying to make it look serious before the curtain falls. Had Greenwald been honest, he would have tapped out the above observation once, then admitted that, frankly, he had nothing else to say about the subject. Still, I'll give him a few style points for attempting to pass off a simple step as a fully choreographed number.

A lot of online libs like Greenwald may have opposed this "war of choice," but now are hesitant to advocate US withdrawal for fear the violence in Iraq might worsen. What I haven't seen from this corner is acknowledgment that far from the invasion being a "choice" as opposed to a "necessity" (read: Afghanistan), the US attack on and occupation of Iraq was inevitable, an outgrowth of nearly a half-century of geopolitical meddling, but more directly related to Saddam's betrayal of his regional role on August 2, 1990. Once Saddam invaded and displaced our dear friends in Kuwait, the clock began ticking on his regime. And recall that even after Iraqi conscripts were chased out of Kuwait (a good number of whom were incinerated by US forces as they retreated), there was no serious call for "democracy" in Iraq among US elites. As the NYTimes's Tom Friedman flatly put it at the time, the best of all possible worlds would be Saddamism without Saddam -- a dependable, obedient "iron fist" to keep the various Iraqi factions under control. And even after Saddam was deposed, that authoritarian concept was continually peddled, either through installing exiles into power like Ahmed Chalabi, or allowing Paul Bremer to be the American Viceroy over the natives. Of course, the natives had other ideas, primarily the Shi'a, for whom our invasion has been a positive, albeit bloody and savage, political and tribal boon. Greenwald claims that the "elected Iraqi government" opposes our immediate withdrawal, but recent polls suggest that those who elected that government want to see us go, some sooner, some a little more down the road, even though the majority of Shi'a, as well as the majority of Sunnis and Kurds, believe -- quite rightly -- that "the US plans to remain permanently."

This is why online debates about the Whys, Hows and Morality of our departure mean nothing to those in charge. Yes, there are those in the American power structure and elite press who are making noises about an eventual withdrawal (based on tactical concerns), but does anyone truly believe that after devoting all this money, time, energy and, oh yes, lives, to this corrupt and murderous enterprise, the US will voluntarily quit? Or that after three years of death, torture and ongoing chaos, a continued US presence will magically shift Iraqi reality in the opposite direction? The only way we're leaving is with a collective Iraqi boot up our ass -- or to put it so Glenn Greenwald might better understand, via the Euphrates Riverdance.

Amid The Chaos

Feel like I should say something about Iraq, but honestly, at this savage point, what is there left to analyze? What was predicted by those who didn't think invading Iraq was such a hot concept is not only taking place, it has deepened and accelerated, as you may have noticed over the past few days. So much for the "flypaper" strategy once so happily touted by war supporters like Andrew Sullivan (wherein the insect Muslims stick to Iraq and are exterminated). But then, flypaper isn't known for effectively catching mortar fire, exploding cars and flying body parts. Perhaps a series of large, armor-plated roach motels? Or more white phosphorus serving as Raid?

I haven't really checked, but are any of the pro-war singers still warbling about the God Almighty Glory of our wondrous Iraq crusade? I mean, who wouldn't love to hear Clint Black belt out "Iraq and Roll" right about now? Click here, crank up your speakers, and git those boots a'stompin' dammit! It's your wipin' out the ragheads when they ain't killin' each other right!

And thanks to pal Jon Schwarz, who reads the New Republic so people like me don't have to, we now discover that Iraq's Prime Minister Ibrahim Jafari is a Noam Chomsky fan, and wishes that Noam would visit Iraq. First Pat Tillman, who was to meet with Chomsky upon his return to the States, then Jafari. I wonder what a certain Beltway war mongering media hungry scribe thinks of that?

What Lies Beneath

The posturing and wailing over the Dubai Ports deal (brilliantly dubbed in some corners as "portgate") says more about the emptiness and worthlessness of American political culture than it does about "national security," whatever the hell that's supposed to mean anymore. I've slogged thru thousands of words and dozens of soundbites about whether or not to trust the United Arab Emirates, and it seems to me that some basic points are being missed, or at least understated: namely, that the War On Terror is a political sham and an economic gold mine for those allowed a cut of the deal. Also, there's no serious way to police everything that flows into US ports (to the extent that serious policing takes place), so if some shadow group wishes to set off bombs or disperse lethal chemicals, there's only so much that can be done to thwart them -- not that the Bush gang really cares about anything like that. Their allegiance is to their business partners and private accounts. And should an attack occur, all the better for them, for reasons that are obvious.

Simply put, for those at the top, the United States as a nation of citizens doesn't really exist. We're disposable abstractions at best, and always will be under this system, which is why those huffing about "terrorism" and "security" are little more than street performers dancing around empty hats. (And there are those higher up, like Bill Frist and Hillary Clinton, who are using this "scandal" to position themselves for '08). I know it's a cliché and I'm sure you've heard this before, but I'll say it anyway: Profit trumps everything else. End of news story. Bush may be phony about a good number of things, but the what's-the-big-deal? expression on his face is genuine. He was raised in an environment of international capital and global profits, and he clearly understands that the political world is there to serve the financial world, not the other way around. Frist and Clinton, among others, know this too, but then, part of the show is pretending that We The People actually matter, beyond pressing buttons and pulling levers every few years.

You'd think that this Dubai Ports media spasm would clear some of the mist in people's eyes. It's as blatant an example of business as usual as you can get, a bare-assed look at how the real world operates. Making patriotic noises in response is like blowing a kazoo at a squadron of F-22 Raptors, and distracts those who might be open to a more structural critique. The skull beneath the War On Terror is plainly visible -- let's start describing it accurately.

Denial

The hypocrisy of David Irving's conviction by an Austrian court for Holocaust denial at a moment when Western elitists are preening and pounding their chests about their devotion to "free speech" in the wake of the Danish cartoon controversy is so obvious, so bright, bursting in blue flame and flashing across the landscape eliminating the smallest shadow, that there's really not much to say. I've noticed a few bloggers, mostly rightwingers, take critical notice of this; but having to explain the basics of free expression to supposedly "free" people is pretty fucking insulting, and it makes one want to crawl off, tend a garden, listen to Beethoven's Sonatas for Piano & Violin while drinking a rich Cabernet and wait for the big asteroid to hit and end this human charade so the planet can reboot itself, hopefully with better results.

Ah, but I tend to get quite grim in moments like this. So I'll turn to the perpetually optimistic Noam Chomsky, whose 1980 piece, "Some Elementary Comments on The Rights of Freedom of Expression," in which he defended the free speech rights of another Holocaust denier, Robert Faurisson, who, like Irving, faced statist hostility (in France) for believing in and expounding on the "wrong" history, says it better than I ever could:

The remarks that follow are sufficiently banal so that I feel that an apology is in order to reasonable people who may happen to read them. If there is, nevertheless, good reason to put them on paper -- and I fear that there is -- this testifies to some remarkable features of contemporary French intellectual culture.
Before I turn to the subject on which I have been asked to comment, two clarifications are necessary. The remarks that follow are limited in two crucial respects. First: I am concerned here solely with a narrow and specific topic, namely, the right of free expression of ideas, conclusions and beliefs. I have nothing to say here about the work of Robert Faurisson or his critics, of which I know very little, or about the topics they address, concerning which I have no special knowledge. Second: I will have some harsh (but merited) things to say about certain segments of the French intelligentsia, who have demonstrated that they have not the slightest concern for fact or reason, as I have learned from unpleasant personal experience that I will not review here. Certainly, what I say does not apply to many others, who maintain a firm commitment to intellectual integrity. This is not the place for a detailed account. The tendencies to which I refer are, I believe, sufficiently significant to merit attention and concern, but I would not want these comments to be misunderstood as applying beyond their specific scope.

Some time ago I was asked to sign a petition in defense of Robert Faurisson's "freedom of speech and expression." The petition said absolutely nothing about the character, quality or validity of his research, but restricted itself quite explicitly to a defense of elementary rights that are taken for granted in democratic societies, calling upon university and government officials to "do everything possible to ensure the [Faurisson's] safety and the free exercise of his legal rights." I signed it without hesitation.

The fact that I had signed the petition aroused a storm of protest in France. In the Nouvel Observateur, an ex-Stalinist who has changed allegiance but not intellectual style published a grossly falsified version of the contents of the petition, amidst a stream of falsehoods that merit no comment. This, however, I have come to regard as normal. I was considerably more surprised to read in Esprit (September 1980) that Pierre Vidal-Naquet found the petition "scandaleuse," citing specifically that fact that I had signed it (I omit the discussion of an accompanying article by the editor that again merits no comment, at least among people who retain a commitment to elementary values of truth and honesty).

Vidal-Naquet offers exactly one reason for finding the petition, and my act of signing it, "scandaleuse": the petition, he claims, presented Faurisson's " 'conclusions' comme si elles etaient effectivement des decouvertes [as if they had just been discovered]." Vidal-Naquet's statement is false. The petition simply stated that Faurisson had presented his "finding," which is uncontroversial, stating or implying precisely nothing about their value and implying nothing about their validity. Perhaps Vidal-Naquet was misled by faulty understanding of the English wording of the petition; that is, perhaps he misunderstood the English word "findings." It is, of course, obvious that if I say that someone presented his "findings" I imply nothing whatsoever about their character or validity; the statement is perfectly neutral in this respect. I assume that it was indeed a simple misunderstanding of the text that led Vidal-Naquet to write what he did, in which case he will, of course, publicly withdraw that accusation that I (among others) have done something "scandaleuse" in signing an innocuous civil rights petition of the sort that all of us sign frequently.

I do not want to discuss individuals. Suppose, then, that some person does indeed find the petition "scandaleuse," not on the basis of misreading, but because of what it actually says. Let us suppose that this person finds Faurisson's ideas offensive, even horrendous, and finds his scholarship to be a scandal. Let us suppose further that he is correct in these conclusions -- whether he is or not is plainly irrelevant in this context. Then we must conclude that the person in question believes that the petition was "scandaleuse" because Faurisson should indeed be denied the normal rights of self-expression, should be barred from the university, should be subjected to harassment and even violence, etc. Such attitudes are not uncommon. They are typical, for example of American Communists and no doubt their counterparts elsewhere. Among people who have learned something from the 18th century (say, Voltaire) it is a truism, hardly deserving discussion, that the defense of the right of free expression is not restricted to ideas one approves of, and that it is precisely in the case of ideas found most offensive that these rights must be most vigorously defended. Advocacy of the right to express ideas that are generally approved is, quite obviously, a matter of no significance. All of this is well-understood in the United States, which is why there has been nothing like the Faurisson affair here. In France, where a civil libertarian tradition is evidently not well-established and where there have been deep totalitarian strains among the intelligentsia for many years (collaborationism, the great influence of Leninism and its offshoots, the near-lunatic character of the new intellectual right, etc.), matters are apparently quite different.

For those who are concerned with the state of French intellectual culture, the Faurisson affair is not without interest. Two comparisons immediately come to mind. The first is this. I have frequently signed petitions -- indeed, gone to far greater lengths -- on behalf of Russian dissidents whose views are absolutely horrendous: advocates of ongoing U.S. savagery in Indochina, or of policies that would lead to nuclear war, or of a religious chauvinism that is reminiscent of the dark ages. No one has ever raised an objection. Should someone have done so, I would regard this with the same contempt as is deserved by the behavior of those who denounce the petition in support of Faurisson's civil rights, and for exactly the same reason. I do not read the Communist Party press, but I have little doubt that the commissars and apparatchiks have carefully perused these petitions, seeking out phrases that could be maliciously misinterpreted, in an effort to discredit these efforts to prevent the suppression of human rights. In comparison, when I state that irrespective of his views, Faurisson's civil rights should be guaranteed, this is taken to be "scandaleuse" and a great fuss is made about it in France. The reason for the distinction seems obvious enough. In the case of the Russian dissidents, the state (our states) approves of supporting them, for its own reasons, which have little to do with concern for human rights, needless to say. In the case of Faurisson, however, defense of his civil rights is not officially approved doctrine -- far from it -- so that segments of the intelligentsia, who are ever eager to line up and march off to the beat of the drums, do not perceive any need to take the stance accepted without question in the case of Soviet dissidents. In France, there may well be other factors: perhaps a lingering guilt about disgraceful behavior of substantial sectors under Vichy, the failure to protest the French wars in Indochina, that lasting impact of Stalinism and more generally Leninist doctrines, the bizarre and dadaistic character of certain streams of intellectual life in postwar France which makes rational discourse appear to be such an odd and unintelligible pastime, the currents of anti-Semitism that have exploded into violence.

A second comparison also comes to mind. I rarely have much good to say about the mainstream intelligentsia in the United States, who generally resemble their counterparts elsewhere. Still, it is very illuminating to compare the reaction to the Faurisson affair in France and to the same phenomenon here. In the United States, Arthur Butz (whom one might regard as the American Faurisson) has not been subjected to the kind of merciless attack leveled against Faurisson. When the "no holocaust" historians hold a large international meeting in the United States, as they did some months ago, there is nothing like the hysteria that we find in France over the Faurisson affair. When the American Nazi Party calls for a parade in the largely Jewish city of Skokie, Illinois -- obviously, pure provocation -- the American Civil Liberties Union defends their rights (though of course, the American Communist Party is infuriated). As far as I am aware, much the same is true in England or Australia, countries which, like the United States, have a live civil libertarian tradition. Butz and the rest are sharply criticized and condemned, but without any attack on their civil rights, to my knowledge. There is no need, in these countries, for an innocuous petition such as the one that is found "scandaleuse" in France, and if there were such a petition, it would surely not be attacked outside of limited and insignificant circles. The comparison is, again, illuminating. One should try to understand it. One might argue, perhaps, that Nazism and anti-Semitism are much more threatening in France. I think that this is true, but it is simply a reflection of the same factors that led to the Leninism of substantial sectors of the French intelligentsia for a long period, their contempt for elementary civil libertarian principles today, and their current fanaticism in beating the drums for crusades against the Third World. There are, in short, deep-seated totalitarian strains that emerge in various guises, a matter well worth further consideration, I believe.

Let me add a final remark about Faurisson's alleged "anti-Semitism." Note first that even if Faurisson were to be a rabid anti-Semite and fanatic pro-Nazi -- such charges have been presented to me in private correspondence that it would be improper to cite in detail here -- this would have no bearing whatsoever on the legitimacy of the defense of his civil rights. On the contrary, it would make it all the more imperative to defend them since, once again, it has been a truism for years, indeed centuries, that it is precisely in the case of horrendous ideas that the right of free expression must be most vigorously defended; it is easy enough to defend free expression for those who require no such defense. Putting this central issue aside, is it true that Faurisson is an anti-Semite or a neo-Nazi? As noted earlier, I do not know his work very well. But from what I have read -- largely as a result of the nature of the attacks on him -- I find no evidence to support either conclusion. Nor do I find credible evidence in the material that I have read concerning him, either in the public record or in private correspondence. As far as I can determine, he is a relatively apolitical liberal of some sort. In support of the charge of anti-Semitism, I have been informed that Faurisson is remembered by some schoolmates as having expressed anti-Semitic sentiments in the 1940s, and as having written a letter that some interpret as having anti-Semitic implications at the time of the Algerian war. I am a little surprised that serious people should put such charges forth -- even in private -- as a sufficient basis for castigating someone as a long-time and well-known anti-Semitic. I am aware of nothing in the public record to support such charges. I will not pursue the exercise, but suppose we were to apply similar standards to others, asking, for example, what their attitude was towards the French war in Indochina, or to Stalinism, decades ago. Perhaps no more need be said.

Noam took a ton of heat for this, a good portion of it from liberals (to which he responded with this essay in the Nation), and it showed and continues to show that for states and the intellectuals that serve them, "freedom" is viewed as a gift that can be revoked, altered or destroyed, depending on political demand or economic need. I don't want to get into an extended rant about the very subjectivity of the concept of freedom -- I'm saving that for the little tome I'm tapping out. But the romantic in me has been fading to outline for years now, and I'm increasingly convinced that free thought and expression is a strange glitch in our collective unconscious, a healthy virus that our diseased minds keep rejecting. Yes, we in the West enjoy a certain measure of openness, especially compared to other parts of the planet; but we also fool and deceive ourselves over how much real freedom there actually is. In a world owned by unelected multinationals, afflicted by tribalism, nationalism, religious frenzy and endless wars (the "War on Terror" being the most grandiose and potentially the most destructive version yet), "freedom" is, at bottom, a commodity. And like all commodities, it can be shelved or discontinued when demand for it shrinks. In gluttonous, gas-guzzling, violent America, consumer demand for what is considered "freedom" fluctuates; and given how little of the real outside world is discussed and debated among those more concerned with financial survival and material needs (i.e., the general population), you're left wondering what the point of free speech actually is at this moment in time.

As for David Irving, his views are ridiculous, but how he differs from those who, say, deny that we wiped out millions of Native people (or worse, take pride in it), or deny that we slaughtered millions in Southeast Asia, a couple hundred thousand in Central America, assisted in near-genocide in places like East Timor (Samantha Power, celebrated by liberal intellectuals for her supposedly penetrating book, "A Problem from Hell: America and the Age of Genocide," devoted a whole half-page to Timor and glossed right over the US role), I simply can't see. Also, Irving is ultimately meaningless, especially compared to people with state power like Bush, Cheney and Rumsfeld, who openly deny that they have carried out mass murder and torture in Iraq. Of course, I defend that trio's right to express their denial, and would oppose any charges brought against them for stating their fictitious opinions. On the other hand, a war crimes trial would be perfectly acceptable and just.

Punish murder, not the words that cover it up.

Hating

Haven't really read much rightwing material of late, save for the occasional peek at the creatures in FrontPage's terrarium (comedy relief mixed with incomprehension). Back in the day, I spent weeks in the New York Public Library at 40th and 5th, up in periodicals reading thru bound copies of the early National Review and The New Freeman (a pseudo-libertarian/elitist mag from the late-1930s that attacked FDR, the New Deal, among other actual socialist targets), so what passes for "conservative" thought today is pretty lightweight compared to those earlier, denser essays, few of which I agreed with, but at least those older reactionaries put some thought into their work. Jonah Goldberg, Michelle Malkin and Ann Coulter would've never been able to hold their own against the likes of James Burnham, Whittaker Chambers and Albert Jay Nock. At best, they could fetch coffee or run out to buy fresh typewriter ribbon, when not sweeping up the office and making sure the lights were turned off at the end of the day.

However, many online libs are obsessed with today's rightwingers, quoting some of their crazier comments and mocking them for partisan sport. You'd think that after the 257th reference to Kate O'Beirne's raw lunacy, the point would be well established and the libs could Move On to other pressing items, like dissecting the Dems and agitating for some kind of structural change. Hell, even some good ol' radical idealism would be refreshing, anything but more "Aren't those righties assholes?" posts. It's become as repetitive as a Coulter rant.

This is not to say that we should completely ignore the reactionsphere; that would be equally ridiculous. But timing, topic and context should be considered when engaging the trogs. For example, while perusing some lib sites the other day, I came across a post at Hullabaloo dealing with Who Hates More: the right or the left? This has to be the dumbest question I've encountered this month, sorta like asking "Which breed of wild dog bites harder: Cape Hunting or Tri-Colored?" Your flesh is ripped all the same as you try to beat down and escape from the mauling cur. The left & the right can be and are equally vicious, noxious, nasty and crude. And in the US, the majority of these people openly identify with one of the two ruling parties -- parties that not only engage in hateful language, aggression and corruption, but actually kill people, mostly on foreign turf, and rob the survivors of wealth and political choice. When your city is cluster bombed by Americans of both mainstream persuasions, does it really matter if one hates a bit more than the other?

This "You're a bigger hater than me!" crap further illustrates the narcissism and narrowness of online political gab. Libs like Digby in the link above may truly believe that the right makes a better living peddling hatred than do the Dems, and I'm sure that one can toss out a few isolated cases that supposedly answer the larger question. But no matter how expansive an online liberal's thinking may appear, when pushed, he or she will rally to the mule and try to hoist the filthy stubborn beast on their shoulders. In other words, the libs are as inherently tribalistic as any rightwinger they oppose. And tribes waving flags (of purity, distinction, political sagacity, whatever) need an Other to justify their existence. In short, someone to hate.

Their Trust

Been soaking in D.W. Griffith's Biograph shorts from 1909-13, and you can see early on how unique his work was compared to other American filmmakers of the time. Each frame is carefully, studiously composed; the outdoors scenes are lush, interiors semi-claustrophobic. The actors are committed to their roles no matter how small. A table of diners far in the background engage each other as if they were the main characters in close-up. Griffith clearly demanded complete fidelity to every scene before him, and he received it in full. Plus, for me, there's the kick of watching people in what was a totally different world, flickering shadows from a long dead time. But there is one short that got me thinking about the present.

"His Trust," shot in 1911, shows a house slave's devotion to his plantation master's family. George is a white-haired, soft-smiling manservant, seemingly dignified compared to the leaping, clapping, dancing slaves around him. He's clearly his master's favorite; so when the master suits up in Confederate gray and is about to march off to fight the Northern aggressors, he asks George, in the event of his death, to watch over and take care of his wife and young daughter. George accepts with a solemn bow of his head, then joins the other slaves outside to praise the Confederate army as it goes forth to protect their hallowed way of life.

Of course, the master is immediately killed in battle, and after a messenger gives the new widow the bad news along with her husband's sword, George assumes his sworn responsibility, not only keeping the widow away from drunken, maraudering Union soldiers, who loot and torch the mansion, but rescuing the daughter from the flames, then running back into the house to retrieve the master's sword as well. Now homeless, the widow and her daughter are given George's humble shack to sleep in for the night. As for George, he goes outside, throws a blanket on the dirt, and lies down to sleep, beneficent smile on his face. Loyal to the end.

As I watched this unintentionally hilarious film (Griffith staged it as tragedy), I again realized that romantic notions of how the Darker Folk want to be just like their white superiors are nothing new. The symbolism put forward by Griffith is even more literal, given that all the slaves are played by white actors in blackface, thus making the slaves' "inner-whiteness" immediately apparent. But what really got me was how "His Trust" could be seen, with a few tweaks here and there, as a pre-invasion fantasy of how the Iraqis would hail and eagerly submit to their Anglo-American saviors.

The whites in Griffith's film take for granted the obedience of their Negro lessers, and they cannot begin to conceive that perhaps these indentured souls are filled with despair. Not that there are any hints of dissatisfaction -- Griffith's slaves are happiest when they are lowest, as shown in a scene where George tries to cheer up the daughter by letting her ride on his back as he crawls in circles, while two other slaves looking on clap, wave their hands and jump with appreciation (the girl's mother adds to the fun by pushing George even closer to the ground, which makes him smile).

What a fitting propaganda film "His Trust" would've made had it been shot in 2002, and imagine the accolades it might've garnered from neocon and war liberal alike. For when you boil down their loftiest claims from that time, you're left with a cartoon-like scenario as Griffith imagined it nearly a century ago. The idea that the invasion would provide fertile ground for resistance, corruption, torture, ethnic cleansing, religious and tribal death squads, or that the entire exercise itself had (and has) nothing to do with democracy or human rights, but rather with geopolitical and imperial concerns, wasn't expressed by those so hot for Iraq's "liberation." Instead, the natives were gonna sing and dance ahead of each advancing regiment, immediately recognizing the civilizing nature of their new overlords. At least in D.W. Griffith's world, the "slaves" could wipe away the burnt cork and return to their respective lives. In the war lovers' world, no such escape exists for those trapped inside it. The romantic drama they envisioned has become a long-running snuff film, their popcorn drenched in the actors' blood.

A Man's Pain

One of the downsides of bloggyworld is how quickly a single joke can be quashed. I don't think I can take another "Cheney's Got A Gun" routine, but doubtless they'll keep coming. Still, as my friend Barry Crimmins reminded me last night, any ridicule heaved at that corpulent smirking war criminal/profiteer is to be welcomed and encouraged, no matter how predictable or redundant it may be. I agree, but I'm left wondering why Cheney pulled the trigger himself. Given his history, you'd think that he'd have some dopey servant do the shooting for him. But then, Scott McClellan looks like he'd piss red at the mere whiff of gunpowder.

All this hunting chat inspired me to dig through my National Lampoon stacks to find what is perhaps the darkest piece ever written about shooting fowl. In the August 1975 issue, Doug Kenney, who would later co-write "Animal House" and "Caddyshack" before falling off a Hawaiian cliff in 1980, presented "Trespassers Will Be Violated," a Saturday Evening Post-type tale about a Mr. Turner who drags his son Tod and their dog Dave to a Wisconsin lake in wet, cold October weather to supposedly hunt ducks. But mostly what Mr. Turner does is guzzle Jack Daniels and harangue Tod about the wretched world:

"That's why I'm always on your tail about keeping your marks up, boy. If you can't learn t'live off the land out here in the wild like your Dad, you'd darn well better be able to live off those other sorry folks back in Madison. Hell, most've 'em don't even know they're alive. Same ones who're always getting all weepy-eyed over dumb animals. Same ones who want to outlaw hunting and fishing and couldn't bait their own thumb for money. Same ones who talk up all this peace cee are and show up the next day at your bomb shelter with a cleaver when it finally hits the fan. Same dumb birdwatchers who scream bloody murder when somebody brings a buck home on his hood, and then they tippy-toe home to some A&P T-bone the size of a desktop, sawed off some sorry cow born and raised to kiss some dumb Polack's sledgehammer. Makes me mad."

"'D'you know why your Dad takes a drink now and then?' Mr. Turner asked thickly, suddenly poking at Tod's sleeping bag.

"'Uh-uh, Dad,' replied Tod drowsily.

"'I drink, son,' said Mr. Turner, t'forget the pain of being a man.'"

Later, in the dark of night, Mr. Turner rapes his son, who wakes in the morning thinking it was a bad dream caused by a growing fever.

Next day, nothing much happens, save for Mr. Turner's ongoing monologues fueled by bottles of Jack Daniels. He talks about how Indians hunted moose, then how white men hunted Indians. ("All they had were bows and arrows and tomahawks. We had guns. Got it, boy?") As night lengthens, he informs Tod about "the innate viciousness of women compared to men, and how, despite everything, the so-called 'inferior' Negro had still managed to take over neighborhoods, one by one . . . Of how the Jews, through America's ruinously expensive welfare system, had allowed the Negroes to reproduce unchecked and hold whites at bay while the Jews sacked the city treasuries with their ruinous welfare schemes. Of how they turned Christ into an obvious homosexual so people would believe it sinful to defend themselves against Negroes, much less Jews. How they were already going from house to house in Massachusetts collecting guns. How such people should be dealt with. How mercy was for women.

"Then, as the cry of a loon was heard through the wind across the water, Tod's father crept from his own sleeping bag, pausing to dip two fingers into the emergency can of Sterno, crawled into Tod's sleeping bag, and, quoting from memory the appropriate passage from 'For Whom the Bell Tolls,' repeatedly sodomized him, using the Sterno as a lubricant."

Come morning, Mr. Turner wakes Tod and orders him to grab his 410 High Standard. He plays a tape of duck calls, which draws a large flock of canvasbacks into a narrow inlet, only thirty yards from their blind. Then, as the mass of ducks settle in to feed, Mr. Turner tells Tod, "All right, boy, and remember, no prisoners," and begins firing.

"The rapid and astonishingly quiet phut phut of Mr. Turner's gun kicked up thirteen bloody geysers of water, feathers and fragmented bone amid the center mass of birds before they even sensed something was wrong. As Tod looked on, his father swiftly emptied a second and third gun into the thickly congested flock, each shot mowing a swath through the living brown-green carpet, literally blowing to bits twenty or more birds with every twitch of his finger, maiming twice that number.

"Dutifully, Tod jammed fresh clips into his father's spent Ithacas. Mr. Turner had emptied five shotguns, sixty-five shells, in one minute. But in that long minute few of the ducks had yet managed their escape. Canvasbacks, deep-feeding divers, require long running starts before their three-pound bulks can gain the air. Now, backed up against a sheer stone cliff in a strong seasonal headwind, confused by downdrafts and a murderous volley issuing from their only flightline, the remainder of the ducks panicked; some dashed mindlessly along the rocky shoreline, others dove deep into the water only to be decapitated by 00 shot upon surfacing. A few of the stronger ones lofted themselves against the easterly gusts, only to be blown back against the cliffs and picked off by Tod's accurate 410.

"The din was terrifying, and Dave, the retriever, no longer able to contain himself, leapt into the water directly in front of Mr. Turner's muzzle and took several pellets. With a shriek, the animal bounded straight up and out of the water, crashing through the reeds in a half-staggering, blood-spraying gallop.

"In another minute it was over. Mr. Turner had bagged easily more than two-thirds of the flock -- some of the survivors had actually crawled away through the marsh grass -- and the surface was solidly packed with dead and drowning birds, perhaps two thousand of them, Tod's father estimated, over three tons of duck meat, floating in an area no larger than an Olympic-sized pool. The din from the crippled ones was unlike anything Tod had ever heard.

"Dave, lying wounded somewhere in the brush, could not retrieve. However, Mr. Turner didn't mind, as no one in the Turner family really cared for duck meat."

Tod then coaxes Dave to make some kind of movement, whereupon his father opens fire on the dog, blowing him to bloody pieces.

"'Not bad shooting, if I do say so myself,' said Mr. Turner as he inspected his kill. 'Brain shot, heart shot, shoulder shot and the bugger still charged.'

"After gutting his kill and throwing away both the insides and the outsides, Mr. Turner again sexually assaulted Tod. Impatient to police the blind area for spent shells and incriminating candy wrappers, he hurried his shot, forgetting the Sterno.

"'Look Dad,' said Tod after, between painful sneezes, "you've either got to cut that out or I'm going to have to tell Mom.'"

That night in their tent, Mr. Turner, sadly pondering his actions, tells Tod, "I'm sorry about what happened today, son. Perhaps when you are a man, and have fathered sons as I have, you will understand."

"There are many things I might have taught you about life, but there is really only one important thing. Remember son, I love you."

Then Mr. Turner shoves the muzzle of his rifle into his mouth and pulls the trigger.

Next day, while searching for the car keys in the family station wagon, Tod comes across a note:

Dear Tod,

I'm sorry about what happened last night. Something about the pain of being a man, perhaps. Spare your Mother this if you can, and remember to keep those marks up.

Fondly,
Dad

P.S. And remember, I love you.

Is there any doubt that had he lived, Mr. Turner would've voted Bush/Cheney?

And speaking of Big Dick, he's apparently telling those around him that the accidental shooting was really Harry Whittington's fault. According to the New York Daily News, "Another GOP source told the Daily News that Cheney has been telling friends the average person probably can't comprehend the situation. 'He knows most people don't understand how things like this can happen,' the source said. 'But people who are hunters understand it. This guy was in a place he shouldn't be.'"

Mr. Turner would understand. Something about the pain of being a man.

NOW DICK SEZ: "I'm the guy who pulled the trigger that fired the round that hit Harry. You can talk about all of the other conditions that exist at the time but that's the bottom line and — it was not Harry's fault. You can't blame anybody else. I'm the guy who pulled the trigger and shot my friend. It's a day I'll never forget."

Even more painful than being a man is undoubtedly the long memory of being a man in pain inflicting pain on another man. Women, consider yourselves lucky.

Thugz

In eighth or ninth grade, before I learned how to better defend myself, a trio of school bullies forced me to make a hard choice: either I would kick the shit out of a smaller, effeminate boy on the playground, or they would work me over on the spot. I didn't know the kid all that well, but he wasn't a pleasant sort, constantly complaining and bitching about whatever vexed him. Still, I had zero desire to beat him up, yet if I didn't, my ass would get stomped thrice over. So, with the bullies right behind me, I started an argument with the kid, which got him snapping back, and as the thugs urged me on, I kicked the boy right in the gut, sending him to the ground.

"Finish the fag off!" they kept yelling, pushing me forward. "Go on -- do it!"

So I kicked that kid I don't know how many times, THOMP THOMP THOMP on his ribs, stomach and once his face. I'll never forget his high-pitched screams, his pleas that I stop. At this point I didn't care about getting beat up -- I simply couldn't take what I was doing (though I was holding back somewhat) and the pain and fear it caused. So I stopped and helped the boy up. Told him that I was forced into it. He didn't believe me, swore that I would pay for my assault, wiped away his tears and ran back into the school.

The thugs laughed. One of them slapped my back. "Not bad," he said, "for a pussy." Having had their fun with me, they pretty much left me alone for the rest of the year.

When I explained myself to the principal, I received a stern lecture and told I was on "probation," which I didn't fully understand at the time. The wounded boy stayed clear of me from then on. I wanted to apologize, make it up somehow, but to him, I was one of those ratty bullies who preyed on the schoolyard weak.

This foul memory was rekindled when I watched the video of British troops beating several Iraqi teens in Basra in 2004. Like the kid from my youth, these boys screamed and pleaded for mercy, which not only didn't stop the Brits from bashing them, it seemed to spur them on to further violence. Their cruel excitement was shared by the Brit Cpl. who taped the beatings. The man was audibly enthused, laughing and taking great pleasure in the stomach-turning spectacle. One wonders if the exposure to a war-torn environment ate away whatever humane impulses the Cpl. once possessed, or if the guy was just another sick fuck when he enlisted. I don't know the man, but something tells me that it was probably a fair share of both.

The official PC stance one is supposed to take when discussing military matters is that regardless of how awful things might be, you still must honor the troops and believe them to be a special, holy breed. To me the problems are structural, not personal, so I tend to criticize the larger system that allows and encourages such vile behavior. But even given that, there are some truly twisted personalities in uniform and at all ranks. I saw it first-hand, from Basic on. A few of these psychos were so anti-social that they were eventually discharged. But I've broken bread, mopped floors and cleaned M-16s with those who were not only prone to viciousness and violence, they were steered by ranking personnel into the Infantry or Special Forces. It was felt that they could be taught to keep their darkest impulses in check, while using that crazed energy to master combat training. This clearly was nothing new, and judging from the videos, photos and numerous reports from Afghanistan, Iraq and Gitmo, the same shit goes on today.

When arguing this point with war supporters, I've encountered either pious denial, as if the very suggestion of thuggery in the ranks was so bizarre that no sane response was possible; or, when that facade crumbled, direct admission that yeah, we beat, we torture, we sadistically kill on occasion, but what do you expect? In war you gotta break "the rules" in order to survive. And besides, these goat fucking terrorists have it coming. Whether or not all those jailed or in detention are guilty of terrorist acts is never truly examined. To those who get off on the mere suggestion of beating a hooded prisoner into the blood-soaked dirt, the concept of innocence has no real meaning. My physically assaulting you proves your guilt -- why else would I do it?

A couple of weeks ago, in one of my rare moments of CNN viewing, I watched a report about Russian skinhead gangs who terrorize primarily African immigrants, killing and severely injuring those who, being "non-Russian" and of darker hue, are asking to be savagely attacked. Those who manage to survive these assaults don't bother reporting it to the officials, believing that the cops, when not turning a blind eye to the violence, privately support the skinheads' campaign. One skinhead interviewed on camera (bravely wearing a ski mask, as did his comrades) said that these gang attacks are an effort to protect Russian civilization from the mongrel hordes, and that when fighting "animals," you must become an animal yourself. And as video ran showing several skinheads repeatedly kicking a young, unarmed man in the face and ribs, I thought to myself, "Hmmm, that sure sounds familiar."

Back

There's something to be said for being unplugged.

Scarcely 2 hours back online, and I've absorbed a week's worth of wretchedness and general human sickness. I suppose spending quality time with the fam and reading books is vastly overrated, esp when there's so much political and cultural bullshit to wade thru and examine. It's comforting to know that no matter how long one spends away from the Web, you can get caught up reaaaal fast and thrown brutally back into the pit.

God bless high speed connections.

Anyway, I plan to post a lot this week, starting tomorrow. So you've been warned. Aloha.

More To Come

Been sans computer for nearly a week (using a borrowed box in a bustling ofc on the other side of A2, so extensive posts are out till I get my mended machine back home), and I've forgotten what life is like away from the keyboard & mouse. It's nice. Quiet. No visual chaos. I've got several posts in the hopper, but I'm sketching them out on paper with pencil and pen. This also gives me time to work on my present project -- a short book on the many many downsides of American patriotism, and how it poisons what passes for our political/cultural debate, esp post-9/11. Yeah, that should be a big bestseller. Nothing people like more than to be told that flag waving and anthems are empty gestures and how our rulers use these symbols to keep us under thumb. Oprah can't wait for her copy.

So please be patient -- Red Boy will be barking at his screen quite soon.

Laugh It Up

Two editorial cartoons, each satirizing the divinity and holiness of revered Christian and Jewish figures, were immediately embraced by religious and political leaders of both faiths. The first, depicting Jesus Christ as a homosexual predator of pre-teen boys, appeared in the French political weekly Justine. The artist, B. Gistang, shows a lecherous Christ trying to lure two 10-year-old boys into a tent filled with sex toys by promising them "instant salvation." The second cartoon, drawn by Joao Santos for the Portuguese monthly O Deus Está Inoperante, renders Moses as an AIDS-infected rat raping Christian pigs at izmel (circumcision knife) point. Both cartoons have been reprinted in various US papers, and the response has been overwhelmingly favorable.

"First-rate parodies," said "700 Club" host Pat Robertson. "Unlike Islam, ours is an expansive, flexible faith, and we Christians, being secure in our belief, welcome any and all attacks on our Savior Jesus Christ."

"Personally, I think that the Son of God would get a kick out of it," chuckled Jerry Fawell. "Jesus loved a good joke, the nastier the better, and I believe that He would find this cartoon totally hilarious, as I and many in my congregation already have.

"This is what separates Christians from Muslims," added Fawell. "We can take a joke. They simply can't."

Jewish writer and moralist Elie Wiesel concurred. "Judaism is the embodiment of comedy, and this cartoon showing Moses as a diseased rodent celebrates our devotion to a humorous God. How do you think we survived countless pogroms and the Holocaust? By laughing at ourselves!

"I only pray that Muslims can view their Prophet Mohammad as casually and sardonically as Jews and Christians view God." Wiesel shook his head sorrowfully. "I would say more, but it is simply too painful."

He paused, then cackled, "NOT!"

The ability of Christians and Jews to laugh at coarse and racist assaults on their beliefs has led to a cottage industry of novelty religious products. One young entrepreneur, Zack White of Mendham, New Jersey, has cashed in on this growing market.

"I've been swamped with orders," said White, founder of Edible Faith. "I've had to take on additional staff in order to keep up."

His most popular gift items?

"Milk chocolate crucifixion nails packaged in a cross-shaped box," White answered with a smile. "The biggest orders for this come from Catholics, especially around Easter. Then there's the 'Toraham', which is a Torah made of ham with passages written in a honey glaze. My Jewish customers order this wholesale during High Holy Days. It serves as both a religious text and as a filling meal, and the leftovers are a blessing on rye. It's oy-licious!"

Rough Boys

Just before the corporate pigskin pig out yesterday, the wife and daughter went to see "Brokeback Mountain," leaving me to watch the game, and the boy to play on his GameCube (he doesn't like football -- what have I done?).

"Enjoy queer cowpokes in love," I said as they left.

"And you enjoy queer jocks in denial," the wife responded, smiling.

Indeed. Doubtless there were a few gay Seahawks and Steelers banging helmets in the big game. How could there not? Law of averages. Of course, the very concept of queer jocks, outside of women's golf and the WNBA, remains insanely taboo, esp when it comes to football, perhaps the most homoerotic American sport there is. But you'll never hear that discussed with any seriousness on sports TV & radio, assuming that the topic arises in the first place. For a good many American sports-loving men, queers are supposed to be girlish, swishy, not physically-ripped trash-talking power hitters in pads. Imagine a bunch of NFL players, some of them All Pros, suddenly coming out. The wounded angry voices of the faithful would saturate sports radio, and sports discussion boards would seethe with hatred and fear. It would do a heavy number on those who paint their faces in team colors and go shirtless at home games. I mean, they might have to explore why they identify so closely with GULP a queer player, and no Reggie White around to have their, umm, back.

All this reminds me of a summer afternoon from my Army days. Returning to the barracks after work, I saw a sign that said "EMERGENCY FORMATION: 1645 HRS. MANDATORY." These were rare, so of course everybody was a bit nervous about what might be coming down. The company assembled in the barracks' rear parking lot. Top (First Sergeant) called us to attention. Rigid silence under a merciless sun. Our commanding officer, a young Captain from West Point, emerged, and told Top to order us to parade rest. Normally our CO was pretty easy going, and his door was always open. But this day he wore a very severe expression. He walked deliberately back and forth in front of the formation for a few minutes without saying a word. Finally, he came to a halt and said:

"As some of you may have already heard, two of your fellow soldiers were found this afternoon having homosexual sex in one of the barracks' showers. THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE. These men will be dealt with according to military law. But that's not my concern here. What I want to be fully understood by each and every member of this company is this: EVERY MAN UNDER MY COMMAND IS STRAIGHT. THAT IS AN ORDER. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

"YES SIR!!"

"WHAT??"

"YESSS SIRRRR!!"

Then we were dismissed.

Turns out one of the guys nabbed was considered one of the tougher men on base. Someone you didn't fuck with, as opposed to . . .

I doubt that was the only time two American male soldiers engaged in consensual queer sex. And what swings in the military must certainly swing in the NFL, or at least a small portion of it. A natural expression of Warrior Culture, however muted or denied.

Bitten

Believe it or not, Sporadic Posting Son has numerous posts just waiting to be delivered in this fine space, but, alas, my computer seems to have ingested a virus, and I cannot sustain a page at all (typing this little ditty on a borrowed machine across town). Hope to have the fucker flushed by Mon afternoon, but this means no weekend rants. And man, I had a nice mega-blast about the fascist nature of football (Nuremberg rallies with end zones) and how appropriate it is that this Sun's Über Bowl is being played at Detroit's Ford Field, owned by the family whose patriarch, Iron Cross Hank, was friendly with Hitler and who tried to warn America about the International Jewish conspiracy to destroy Christianity, usher in unionism, mixed marriages and Moses knows what else. But I have limited time, so nothing new till next week. But please visit my blogroll until we again meet -- plenty of good reading there, esp over at my pal Jon Schwarz's Tiny Revolution joint. JSwaz's been really bringin' it of late, so pop in there and say hey.

Oh yeah -- I'm going with the Steelers, though I haven't truly enjoyed the S. Bowl since the NFL/AFL merger in 1970. Consolidation smothers everything.

"Scalito" -- No?

Call a new Supreme Court Justice a "judicial trog" and what does he do first thing? Side with the majority of the Court in staying an execution in Missouri!

Gotta say, Alito's already giving me fits.

Now, yesterday was only the first day of the rest of his Supreme Court life, so there are many many more big votes to come, doubtless some bad ones (he's a Federalist, after all). And while Alito's vote didn't swing the Court's decision (6-3), it should be applauded by death penalty opponents everywhere. Well, maybe some slow, sarcastic clapping, like a certain family in Southampton, Long Island. Again, we've got a loooonnnng way to go with this guy.

Cynical Son believes that Alito voted against Missouri's death machine simply to cross people up. "Ha! You thought you knew Sammy A! Thought I'd barge RIGHT IN and kick the police state into high gear! Well, how's it taste now, muthafuckas!" Practical Son thinks that Alito may be "pro-life" across the board -- that he opposes the death penalty (at least in specific cases) and the right to an abortion (in all cases?). We'll see. One thing's for sure: new Chief Justice John Roberts won't disappoint. He joined Scalia and Thomas in pushing for immediate lethal injection. Good. With the midterm elections coming up, Democratic scare groups will need a reactionary poster boy to frighten shaky libs into voting for any and all Dem candidates, in order to stem the fascist tide before it's too late. Of course, many of those elected Dems may vote for reactionary measures down the road, but that's a problem for another day. At least we know that Roberts can be counted on to play his nefarious role. Alito -- the second coming of David Souter?

Losers

A woman enraged phoned the Ed Schultz radio show yesterday, furious that Dems like Robert Byrd and Ben Nelson voted for Samuel Alito's confirmation, and frankly pissed that Schultz has featured, likes and promotes those two, among other centrist/rightwing Dems. Schultz, a mainstream Dem who laughs at his own cornball one-liners and asides, tore into the caller for violating the rules of the Big Tent. The caller hit right back, saying that she was sick and tired of how the Dems lay down while the right continues to politically advance. She had worked to get the Dems to filibuster, but the fact that most Dems didn't want to stop Alito by any means necessary confused and angered her. What kind of "opposition" party are they anyway? Schultz bellowed that this is how "the process" works, and if the caller didn't like it, she and her wacko far-left friends, who at best make up fifteen percent, are free to leave the Democratic Party and go the third party "loser" route. The caller replied that maybe she'll do just that, even if it takes 20 years to build an alternative. Schultz snorted at this, called her a "loser" one more time, then cut her off.

Is this how big time liberal radio hosts treat the dissidents in their audience? Schultz openly loves the likes of Joe Lieberman and Hillary Clinton, so his curt dismissal of a left Dem wasn't all that surprising. But calling her a "loser" was a bit much, especially given how much losing the Dems as a whole have endured and actively courted. Perhaps it was mere projection, but then Schultz is so full of himself that it might well have been pure blind bluster. And his contention that the "far left" are fifteen percent of Dems, if true, is a cause for celebration. Recall that Ralph Nader got just over two percent of the vote in '00, and that was enough, if you believe Eric Alterman and others, to tip the election to Bush. But fifteen percent? If that's the case, then the above caller should rally her fellow far-left nutjobs to start pulling the Dems in their direction. After all, without them, the Dems are doomed to lose again & again for quite some time.

Frankly, though, liberals and Dems of varied stripes are in such disarray that any determined cohesive bloc is hard to find, much less imagine. Lib blogs like Firedoglake and Crooks and Liars continually congratulate themselves for such bold actions like shutting down a Washington Post blog, or dampening the sales of Kate O'Beirne's anti-feminist book by flooding Amazon with negative reviews. Hell, they even bragged about changing Diane Feinstein's vote on Alito and for getting John Kerry to mutter "filibuster" at the last meaningless minute. It's a bit like lip-syncing "We Are The Champions" into a bedroom mirror while dancing around in your parents' clothes playing grown-up. Meanwhile, the Supreme Court takes another authoritarian step, the "terror wars" drag on, civil liberties are under assault as the state continues to militarize, among other horrid developments, and what is the lib answer to all this?

MID-TERM ELECTIONS!

(Hoo boy . . .)

Yes, by all means, let's elect more Dems who'll take a pass on confronting the American rightwing, to the degree that they differ from the right, that is. For if you refuse to organize a filibuster to at least slow the ascension of a judicial trog like Alito, then really, what good are you? What's the point of your existence? Well, as Ed Schultz proves on a daily basis, it is to help police the unruly wing of what presently passes for "progressive" thought and (in)action. This helps to explain why, after each fresh kick in the mouth, online libs collect their teeth from the pavement and obediently return to the fold, when they're not trying to convince themselves that party leaders truly give a tinker's fuck what they say. I don't enjoy being pessimistic, and still agree with Noam Chomsky's adage that if you believe there's no hope, then you ensure there's no hope. But what to do with an "opposition" that cannot or will not directly confront the main system of control in which all this madness takes firmer root? I'm presently at a loss to adequately dissect it, which, I suppose, makes me a loser as well.