Monday, July 26, 2004

Barack Obama in the Times!

Senate candidate Barack Obama is in The New York Times. If he's one-tenth as engaging and thoughtful at the Democratic National Convention as he was when Kate and I saw him in June, people will lose their minds. I can't wait to hear what he says on Tuesday.



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The Weather Underground

On Friday night, I watched a documentary about the 60s radical group, The Weather Underground. For those of you unfamiliar, here's the story: after the tumult of 1968, the most radical wing of Students for a Democratic Society (SDS), seized control of that group. Their aim was to "bring the [Vietnam] war home"--that is, demonstrate the violence happening in Southeast Asia, and mete out a measure of suffering currently being endured by the Vietnamese people, to the masses here in America (which were, then as now--how do I put this kindly?--consumption-addled and preoccupied).



After their dream of leading a parade of destruction here in Chicago (romantically called "Days of Rage") petered out through lack of interest, they started building bombs. After the Greenwich Village brownstone they were using as a bomb factory exploded, killing three members, they realized that killing masses of innocent civilians here, in the name of innocent civilians somewhere else, was probably not a good idea. In the next five years or so, they planted a lot of bombs in various public buildings, to protest various actions of the Nixon Administration. To their credit, no one was killed in these events. And they were able to bust Timothy Leary out of prison, where the High Priest of Psychedelia was being held for the possession of three joints. THREE JOINTS? Shit, you'd find more drugs just by making him give blood!



But back to the Weathermen. What a bunch of idiots. Arrogant, naive, self-indulgent, and ultimately useless--a textbook example of how political change DOESN'T happen. Driven to violence by the violence of the Vietnam War, they didn't shorten that war by one day, and probably created support for it. Quite an important lesson for those of us against the war in Iraq.



People wonder where the Sixties went--how the anti-war movement allowed (and participated) in our country's disastrous and protracted slide to the right. I think the answer can be found in these two facts from the documentary:

1) Fred Hampton was Information Minister of the Black Panther Party; he was shot to death by the Chicago Police in 1970.

2) Bernadette Dohrn was the leader of the Weather Underground; she now teaches law at Northwestern University.



It's easy to tell who the real revolutionaries are in any society--they're the ones that get shot. Everything else is just the same old struggle to make it to the top of the heap, except with berets.
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Friday, July 23, 2004

I LOVE drive-ins...

...so here's an article about a new one opening in New Jersey. I still remember seeing "The Evil Dead" at a Maryland drive-in with my Uncle Pete. What a perfect movie to see at a drive-in. Kate and I keep thinking about going to one way up in Michigan, but haven't pulled the trigger yet.
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Wednesday, July 21, 2004

Stuck skunk junk

Skunks and the people who love them will enjoy this article.
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Get tough, Democrats!

Rick Perlstein writes in the Village Voice about the benefits of going negative on the President. Not only is it the best way to beat him, it also happens to be the truth.
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Thursday, July 15, 2004

Two things that really excited me...

The first was the discovery of hours of new Beatles tapes in a flea-market suitcase. Unfortunately, as I read recently on rec.beatles.moderated, handing them over to Apple was probably the worst thing the guy could've done, from a fan's perspective. We'll probably never hear them fully. And if the Anthology is any measure, it will take ten years for something to be released (and that will be songs cobbled together from seperate tracks and mixes--thus creating songs that are not only worse than the released version, but also historically worthless. But more Beatles in the world is a good thing, regardless!



The second was my discovery that writer Stanley Crouch recently slapped critic Dale Peck in a tiny French restaurant on my old NYC street, West 11th. The restaurant, Tartine, is so small, I'm surprised that Stanley didn't hit four other people in the act! I never met Stanley but used to hear him practicing his jazz drumming all the time. Nice street. I miss the West Village intensely. I have no feelings about Dale Peck.
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Vonnegut on Torture

Friend Dennis Perrin writes: "As we await fresh torture footage from Abu Ghraib, which, according to Sy Hersh, includes the rape of boys and their screams of pain, I thought this might lend some historical perspective. From the New York Times, June 30, 1971."



Torture and Blubber



by Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.



West Barnstable, Mass.--When I was a young reader of Robin Hood tales and "The White Company" by Arthur Conan Doyle and so on, I came across the verb "blubber" so often that I looked it up. Bad people in the stories did it when good people punished them hard. It means, of course, to weep noisily and without constraint. No good person in a story ever did that.



But it is not easy in real life to make a healthy man blubber, no matter how wicked he may be. So good men have invented appliances which make unconstrained weeping easier--the rack, the boot, the iron maiden, the pediwinkis, the electric chair, the cross, the thumbscrew. And the thumbscrew is alluded to in the published parts of the secret Pentagon history of the Vietnam war. The late Assistant Secretary of Defense, John McNaughton, speaks of each bombing of the North as ". . .one more turn of the screw."



Simply: we are torturers, and we once hoped to win in Indochina and anywhere because we had the most expensive torture instruments yet devised. I am reminded of the Spanish Armada, whose ships had torture chambers in their holds. Protestant Englishmen were going to be forced to blubber.



The Englishmen refused.



Now the North Vietnamese and the Vietcong have refused. Plenty of them have blubbered like crazy as individuals, God knows--when splattered with jellied gasoline, when peppered with white phosphorus, when crammed into tiger cages and sprinkled with lime. But their societies fight on.



Agony never made a society quit fighting, as far as I know. A society has to be captured or killed--or offered things it values. While Germany was being tortured during the Second World War, with justice, may I add, its industrial output and the determination of its people increased. Hitler, according to Albert Speer, couldn't even be bothered with marveling at the ruins or comforting the survivors. The Biafrans were tortured simultaneously by Nigerians, Russians and British. Their children starved to death. The adults were skeletons. But they fought on.



One wonders now where our leaders got the idea that mass torture would work to our advantage in Indochina. It never worked anywhere else. They got the idea from childish fiction, I think, and from a childish awe of torture.



Children talk about tortures a lot. They often make up what they hope are new ones. I can remember a friend's saying to me when I was a child: "You want to hear a really neat torture?" The other day I heard a child say to another: "You want to hear a really cool torture?" And then an impossibly complicated engine of pain was described. A cross would be cheaper, and work better, too.



But children believe that pain is an effective way of controlling people, which it isn't--except in a localized, short-term sense. They believe that pain can change minds, which it can't. Now the secret Pentagon history reveals that plenty of high-powered American adults things so, too, some of them college professors. Shame on them for their ignorance.



Torture from the air was the only military scheme open to us, I suppose, since the extermination or capture of the North Vietnamese people would have started World War III. In which case, we would have been tortured from the air.



I am sorry we tried torture, I am sorry we tried anything. I hope we will never try torture again. It doesn't work. Human beings are stubborn and brave animals everywhere. They can endure amazing amounts of pain, if they have to. The North Vietnamese and the Vietcong have had to.



Good show.



The American armada to Indochina has been as narrow-minded and futile as the Spanish Armada to England was, though effectively more cruel. Only 27,000 men were involved in the Spanish fiasco. We are said to have more dope addicts than that in Vietnam. Hail, Victory.



Never mind who the American equivalent of Spain's Philip II was. Never mind who lied. Everybody should shut up for a while. Let there be deathly silence as our armada sails home.
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Tuesday, July 13, 2004

Dorothy Parker's obituary in The New York Times...

...is here, and it's really worth reading if you don't know much about this Great American Humorist.
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Wednesday, July 7, 2004

Agenting, "That genteel racket"

Sorry for the delay, folks--I've been in Michigan.



McSweeney's Paul Collins has an interesting essay in the Village Voice on literary agents then and now. In it, Collins expresses the feeling of being a published author quite well, especially during these days of blockbuster-or-nothing success: "As for me, my book was eventually published; others have followed. But others also preceded it. My first published book felt like crossing the border into a new country—one where permanent residency always feels a little tenuous, and where it's hard not to wonder about who didn't make it past customs."
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Friday, July 2, 2004

Krugman's right on the money about F9/11...

Check it out, comrades.
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Ave atque vale to Marlon Brando...

One sentence struck me as I read Marlon Brando's obituary in The New York Times: "``I suppose the story of my life is a search for love,'' Mr. Brando said. ``But more than that, I have been looking for a way to repair myself from the damages I suffered early on and to define my obligation, if I had any, to myself and my species.''



That, perhaps, was the wellspring of his eccentricity--that difference between himself and the general mass of people which gave him so much talent and so much pain. We like people to be all good--but they are never that, can never be that. What makes a saint makes a sinner, too.
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Thursday, July 1, 2004

Tony Hendra, Father Joe, and molestation

Several weeks ago, I was happy to see Andrew Sullivan's very positive review of Tony Hendra's new memoir, "Father Joe," in The New York Times Book Review. (As some of you know, Tony's a longtime toiler in the vineyards of comedy, first at the Cambridge Footlights, then at National Lampoon.) But since that time the usual black cloud that always seems to gather around Tony in times of success has found him again. First, Michael McKean took him to task on the Book Review letters page for claiming he was one of the architects of Spinal Tap. And now, his 39-year-old daughter is accusing him of molestating her as a child. The whole thing is awful and tragic, and looks to get nastier before it goes away.

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