The soap opera continues, has only just begun

Last night Dallas Morning News staff photographer Michael Ainsworth captured an anguished Tony Romo pacing the sideline after throwing an interception. This picture is brilliant. Not only does it speak volumes about one man and his pain and feelings of inferiority, but it emphasizes the wonderful drama of sports. The action and athleticism are great but they're icing on the cake. The collective and personal drama is what keeps fans coming back for more, even after their team blows it on the big stage (yet again). The struggle, the triumph, and, here, the tragedy.

Look closely at this picture. That is a tortured look on his face.


Notes:

• Faith: You don't believe in a proven quarterback--you rely on him; so it is only now that I know he felt loss so acutely, knows loss so intimately, that I can believe in Tony Romo. The team will be worse next year, looks like. But, nevertheless.

about a Snickers, in five bites

I see before me a man who wants to enjoy his Snickers bar. He is very different from the man I saw before me earlier, who set himself in the airport chair by gate 25 to eat a whole sleeve of Oreo cookies. No, this Snickers man takes just two bites of his candy bar before takeoff; the next two bites will power him through the airport, and what the last bite is for only this slender man so efficiently built knows.

Obama's speech at the service in Newtown

The President's December 16, 2012, address in Newtown is one of the more compelling, well-written editions of recent Obama speeches, which is pretty weird considering it argues for a policy he doesn't totally agree with, on an issue he doesn't care much about.

First Obama obligatorily memorializes the occasion by redescribing the tragic events and the redeeming moments within them. Then he says,

We can’t tolerate this anymore. These tragedies must end. And to end them, we must change.

This change he refers to is a fundamental one concerning our culture and its relation to guns, individualism, and violence--something not easily changed. So how does a President / lawyer / legislator start us on the road towards such a change? Through legislation:

We will be told that the causes of such violence are complex, and that is true. No single law, no set of laws can eliminate evil from the world or prevent every senseless act of violence in our society, but that can’t be an excuse for inaction. Surely we can do better than this.

The kind of legislation he has in mind, gun control, was not previously on his agenda, so to him it isn't the most appealing option, and he seems to doubt that it will even be all that effective; but he sees it as a means, the most obvious place to begin effecting a cultural change immediately:

If there’s even one step we can take to save another child or another parent or another town from the grief that’s visited Tucson and Aurora and Oak Creek and Newtown and communities from Columbine to Blacksburg before that, then surely we have an obligation to try.

... We know that, no matter how good our intentions, we’ll all stumble sometimes in some way.

We’ll make mistakes, we’ll experience hardships and even when we’re trying to do the right thing, we know that much of our time will be spent groping through the darkness, so often unable to discern God’s heavenly plans.

There you have it: although it may not work as intended, new gun control legislation is something he thinks he can start on now, but he hopes other, better options will be revealed in the days ahead. Of course, though he's not the first, last, or only person to ever float such a message, Obama's talk of cultural change fuels his many detractors, those Conservatives whose ideological allegiance grows with their sense that policies traditionally deemed Liberal are now destroying their way of life.


Notes:

• It does seem strange that he would be arguing policy at a memorial service.

• My favorite part of this is far and away the following:

You know, someone once described the joy and anxiety of parenthood as the equivalent of having your heart outside of your body all the time, walking around.

With their very first cry, this most precious, vital part of ourselves, our child, is suddenly exposed to the world, to possible mishap or malice, and every parent knows there’s nothing we will not do to shield our children from harm. And yet we also know that with that child’s very first step and each step after that, they are separating from us, that we won’t -- that we can’t always be there for them.

They will suffer sickness and setbacks and broken hearts and disappointments, and we learn that our most important job is to give them what they need to become self-reliant and capable and resilient, ready to face the world without fear.

Security and the lack

Note 1: After investigating the Benghazi attack at the US Embassy in Libya which left dead four Americans, including Ambassador Christopher Stevens, the Accountability Review Board, appointed by secretary of State Hillary Clinton, has "concluded that the State Department suffered 'systemic failures' in providing adequate security". Security is a question in answer to a question; it asks, Is this enough? What else do we need to do? The question is unanswerable in definite.

Note 2: After the Newtown elementary school shooting which left 20 children and six adults dead, Connecticut's Chief Medical Examiner is examining the gunman's corpse for genetic clues that might explain his heinous act. He will find something, no matter what.

Because school shootings, especially Adam Lanza's, exist so outside our established schemas for knowing, lots of disciplines quickly invite themselves into the conversation, primarily education, mental health, genetics, forensic science, security, law, parental and child psychology, and religion. All these vie for control of the conversation, and all are entertained by death, all pretend to speak for the death and madness who speak languages we don't understand.

about "The Devil All the Time" by Donald Ray Pollock

Pairing sequences occurring almost twenty years apart, first circa 1945, then '65, Donald Ray Pollock cross-wires the impoverished paths of a number of strong Appalachian characters. The Devil All the Time is one of the best fiction reads I've had in awhile in terms of plot and character strength. Thematically the pages are consumed in the filthy marriage of poverty, religious faith, and depravity. Being from the region, Pollock has an intimate feel for the darker shadows of this landscape which he exploits to full effect here. The last four section/chapters were actual fucking page-turners.

Starve

 
He's about nine, curly hair and brown skin, and I saw him climbing out of the creek with two small, pale fish on a line.

Wow!

It wasn't hard, he said, confident. I put the line in and they swam right to it.

Cicadas suffocated us in the heat. Man. What are you gonna do with them?

I don't know.

I had the impression he wished he had a better answer. But I thought, No, I get it. Perfect answer to a stupid question. Fishing was something to do. The fish are beside the point.

49ers 27 - Dolphins 13

about "What Becomes" by A. L. Kennedy

The dozen short stories in A. L. Kennedy's What Becomes depict ordinary people caught navigating a few moments in extraordinary pain. Kennedy's prose is pure, a gentle blend of proper-sounding English and freshly worded insights, and her dialog and breaks are organized efficiently, so the reading goes smoothly. That said, the laser focus on these distracted and emotionally crippled people gets heavy after a few stories, despite a few spliced-in bits of humor. Great for people who want to read sad things.

something about the movie "Lincoln"

"Lincoln" focuses on the President's efforts to pass the Thirteenth Amendment while negotiating the end of the Civil War. A superb Daniel Day-Lewis evokes a gifted but earthen man veiled in melancholy, defending the bloody and nightmarish warring to save the Union, the Emancipation Proclamation, and his push to eradicate slavery via the Constitution immediately, while the battle still rages. All of the supporting players more than hold their own--Sally Field included.

In all that's already been written about this film, only one point could still be made: this entry from The New Yorker--one of a couple excellent comments on the film found there--claims

It can’t be said too often, or too clearly, that the whole point of Lincoln is that he—and the Republican Party he then represented—marked the end of the policy of conciliation and compromise and cosseting that had been the general approach of Northern Presidents to the Southern slavery problem throughout the decades before. When the South seceded, Lincoln chose war—an all-out, brutal, bitter war of a kind that had never been fought until then.

According to the film, Lincoln felt the 13th Amendment was a compromise. Had they not compromised, the radical faction of the Republican Party (and their abolitionist constituents) would have enfranchised black men immediately, given them the vote, legalized interracial marriage, etc. A huge portion of the film is dedicated to Lincoln's pissing off those radicals. (But this "compromise" means little when it obliterates an entire region's economic way of life, which is probably The New Yorker writer's point.)

about "Psychiatric Power: Lectures at the College de France, 1973-1974" by Michel Foucault

In these lectures, Foucault defines psychiatric power as "that supplement of power by which the real is imposed on madness in the name of a truth possessed once and for all by this power in the name of medical science, of psychiatry". This definition hints at the areas Foucault explores: reality and truth, systems of power, and the disciplines of science and the human sciences. The lectures serve as an important follow up and, in some key respects, an amendment to his early work, Madness and Civilization: A History of Insanity in the Age of Reason. Reading this and staying engaged was a struggle. The reason for that is largely a matter of context: the practice of psychiatry (and administration of asylums) and the schools of thought therein have a complicated and rich history in Europe, particularly in France and Italy. Foucault digs into and entrenches himself in that history, but, as a student, there is no required preliminary reading to reference. Nevertheless, Foucault does impart many insightful points of brilliance:

• The appropriation and use of reality as a form of power

• The medicalization of children, and the creation and expansion of the concept of development as it pertains to rationality and moralizing, retardation, madness, and defining the normal and abnormal

• Foucault's redefining the abnormal, the retarded, etc, as individuals who act on instinct

• How psychiatry changed from a practice that confined, controlled, and sometimes corrected madness to a power that defines, controls, and sometimes corrects the abnormal, thereby expanding its power into the domain of normality

• The role of psychiatry and asylum administration in capitalism and maintenance of the workforce

• How medical science provides justification and grounds for power, but does not inform psychiatric practice

• The history of the concept of truth, and truth's development and role in science

This is not be a good starting read for people interested in Foucault. And people interested in pschiatry (or anti-psychiatry) should probably also not read this without some background in Foucault.

Note

• The edition I have does offer some good historical context on psychiatry.

a thing about the movie "Flight" (with spoilers)

Flight follows William "Whip" Whitaker, a crackerjack airline pilot struggling to admit to his alcohol and drug addictions in the aftermath of a plane crash. Part of the immediate dilemma for the audience and for Whitaker is that (1) the crash resulted from hardware failures, not pilot error, and (2) no other pilot could have negotiated the crash landing with as much skill, and saved as many passengers' lives as he did, sober or otherwise.

The film is about one man's struggle for redemption, but what we see from our theater seat is a struggle for control of truth. In Whitaker's mind, his functionality, his brilliance excuses the behavior that so many rush to judge irresponsible. That is his truth. But under threat of litigation and penalty for the lives lost, the airline and Whitaker's other adversaries use the discourse of medical knowledge, appealing to that discipline's knowledge-making authority, which justifies policies that were violated, and deems Whitaker unfit. The co-pilot, who chooses not to reveal Whitaker's drunkenness on record, appeals to the Word of God; God reveals the Truth, and Whitaker must face that truth.

Finally, after a slew of verbal confrontations, Whitaker is faced with the most intimidating of rhetorical situations--a hearing by the National Transportation Safety Board, an independent Federal agency "charged by Congress with investigating every civil aviation accident in the United States". Here, Whitaker surrenders control of the truth. He cannot speak another lie, he says. Whitaker's truth goes from belief in himself with a confident rejection of medico-juridical labels to, ultimately, the discourse of confession. He adopts the narratives spun about him by others, and finds himself now a craven denier of truth, and no longer a hero airline pilot.

Notes

• This was a fantastic movie. Every performance is spot on; Whitaker is played to perfection by Denzel Washington, and even John Goodman's over-the-top dealer works well, providing relief from the main character's ongoing struggles and tension. And Wikipedia notes, "Flight is (Robert) Zemeckis' first live-action film since 2000's Cast Away and What Lies Beneath, and his first R-rated film since Used Cars in 1980."

• Above, quoting the NTSB's Web site regarding the agency's purpose.

Rihanna singing "Diamonds" on SNL

Wittgenstein's seven propsitions from "Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus"

1. The world is everything that is the case.
2. What is the case (a fact) is the existence of states of affairs.
3. A logical picture of facts is a thought.
4. A thought is a proposition with a sense. (An elementary proposition is a truth-function of itself.)
5. A proposition is a truth-function of elementary propositions.
6. The general form of a proposition is the general form of a truth function. (formula given) This is the general form of a proposition.
7. Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent.

This you already know

Pre-election coverage foregrounds and makes estimations. The pundit sits in the middle of a mass of cross-talk, intercepting, expounding and proliferating meanings within the discourse that flows between and among candidates and the audience. In this analysis, the audience is parsed, filtered, separated out into segments that each have their own traits and values that call for individualized treatment from the candidates.

Then, after the big night, post-election coverage sets about interpreting new, limited sets of meanings, and projects them into the near and distant future. This analysis diagnoses the population using the tools of cohesion and normalization. The segments of people are recognized as key segments, but their numbers add up to a whole.

All this coverage depicts a scene in which, prior to election day, the candidates' message descends and swirls down within the electorate. Post-election, the message is sent from below, up to the risers on which sit the podiums and punditry chairs.

Who is the pundit? Who is qualified to be a pundit? Generally, a pundit must be someone who either (1) practices journalism for a publication of certain status, (2) someone who previously held a high-ish public office, or (3) someone who attained some celebrity while incorporated in a political campaign or party. As currently used, the word "pundit" appears to be a term of soft derision that depersonalizes the speaker, and casts them as coincidentally filling a seat that could be filled by so many. To call someone a pundit is to say, "Take their words with a grain of salt". In effect, this can serve to disqualify them while situating them within a dysfunctional machine.

But we have different kinds of pundits who serve different functions. Some speak for voters and are allegiant to one side. Others attempt to refocus, summarize, and speak of political events, trends, and developments when prompted. And now there is an elite.

First in 2008 but more so in 2012, Nate Silver of 538 emerged from the pundit crowd. The left has endowed him with a version of the Author function. His predictions (which cannot account for the unpredictable) draw credibility both from his name and from the nameless science purportedly behind him. The author name means nothing on a scientific paper; but Silver's work has his name, and seems to live on the weight of his name and on the namelessness of his numbers.

Notes:

In the middle of his victory speech, Obama, in his general, high rhetorical way, espoused a a key principal and belief that undergirds whatever his political philosophy is:

America’s never been about what can be done for us. It’s about what can be done by us together through the hard and frustrating, but necessary work of self-government. That’s the principle we were founded on.

This country has more wealth than any nation, but that’s not what makes us rich. We have the most powerful military in history, but that’s not what makes us strong. Our universities, our culture are all the envy of the world, but that’s not what keeps the world coming to our shores.

What makes America exceptional are the bonds that hold together the most diverse nation on earth. The belief that our destiny is shared; that this country only works when we accept certain obligations to one another and to future generations. The freedom which so many Americans have fought for and died for come with responsibilities as well as rights. And among those are love and charity and duty and patriotism. That’s what makes America great.

about "White Noise" by Don DeLillo

White Noise follows events surrounding a Midwest college professor, with much attention given to his family, a Brady Bunch-type arrangement. Our professor, Jack Gladney, is known for his unique academic departmental creation, Hitler Studies; this bit matters because it embodies a major theme in the novel: information overload--how each and every thing is problematized and probed and its hidden data and meaning is wrung out, spilling out into the air. Each source is inexhaustible, but ultimately, exhausted, you wonder whether all this data mining yielded knowledge or pollution.

The novel's action and dialog is immersed in data: trivia, reports, news, questions, answers, rhetorical questions, interrogations, analysis, meta analysis, educated guesses, second guesses, and so on. In the narrative, this information overload is symbolized by a toxic cloud that materializes over the town after a train wreck and chemical spill. The threat prompts a second theme (also represented in the cloud): fear of death. Jack Gladney is exposed to the cloud for perhaps too long and a fear of death sets in. But, after the real toxic cloud dissolves in microbiotic fury, Gladney learns his wife has struggled with an intense fear of death for months, and that she even sought help for it through an obscure, experimental pharmaceutical trial, taking pills to cure the fear. After dragging along these plot points for a time, at the end, out of nowhere, the novel takes a bizarre twist involving a murder attempt.

The characters are unrealistic and unlikable, each taking turns dismissing whatever the other characters choose to dwell on. They are all stupid quirky buffoons with no bullshit threshold. The cloud event is ridiculous because it starts out catastrophic but is quickly dealt with and rarely mentioned again. Gradually, during the reading I lost all motivation to consider the novel seriously.

Notes:

• The novel says nothing about it, but "information overload" might be one of those fears that pops up every couple generations.

Teaching the controversy

We have two theories being proposed to addressed unemployment.

The first is Job Creationism. This theory holds that a motivated elite creates jobs: low taxes motivate the elite to start businesses that will need employees. Jobs come from above.

The second is Job Evolution. This theory says that when conditions are right and the raw materials are there, jobs come: invest in education, infrastructure, and environment-friendly technologies, and jobs will emerge and evolve from within.

Radiolab doesn't prepare to conduct an interview

Recently, the annoying folks at Radiolab intended to investigate a phenomenon called "Yellow Rain", an apparently dangerous, mysterious precipitation observed in Vietnam and Laos circa 1981. At the time, the deadly rain attracted some media coverage while cold war tensions escalated between Russia and the US.

The producers and hosts apparently intended to limit the scope of the episode to the question, What was yellow rain? But during the show, the interview between a yellow rain witness, his translator/niece, and the Radiolab host and producer falls apart when the host pursues the witness about ambiguity in the testimony. After being pressed, the witness losses heart and, aided by his niece, implores the interviewers to focus on the death of their people in the proxy wars, and not the yellow rain.

From the get go, Radiolab was oblivious to fact that the story they were investigating was situated in an ongoing struggle with deep political implications. It was only when the witnesses were crying and pleading for recognition of the tragedy within the story that the "story changed" for Radiolab. Host Jad Abumrad explains:

We were all really troubled by that interview. We talked about it for weeks, and we had arguments about it for weeks. What does it mean for the story? What does it mean for us personally?

For the story, and for Radiolab: this is what concerns them. The vision of the show's hosts and producer got even more myopic in the end, somehow. Then the "conversation" ends with Radiolab essentially throwing up its hands at the controversy.

Inconsequential

People who follow politics and political coverage often criticize the media for not explicating policy proposals and instead focusing on polls and swing states. Such critics see the media as too focused on distractions. Now, following Tuesday's Presidential debate, an online public hears Romney's "binders full of women" comment and amplifies it, silencing other discussions for a day or so.

Maybe the "binders full of women" is sort of amusing, and within that amusement is the sense that some things are odd about Romney. Some things are, but nothing evidenced in his comment is revelatory unless you've never thought about who Mitt Romney is beyond his brand, "successful businessman".

The larger discourse on women voters and women's issues seems far more revealing about what we're like, and how we perceive ourselves and those around us. Women are sort of treated as a political g-spot in need of some serious finessing. This gender-oriented political discourse seems to say that a candidate needs to understand and address things women "care about" without appearing to stereotype women or lock them in the home. This CNN article on Romney's women-talk during the debate cites a political science professor voicing such a concern:

"His discussion of work-life balance appeared condescending to some because of the reference to women cooking dinner."

So the candidate must embrace gender difference but frame his embrace in terms of equality. Maybe most or all political discourse aimed at a specific segment of the voting public includes some version of outlining that segment, then erasing those lines, of conjuring their image, then making them disappear, but women are a good, current example of this, I think. The finessing and specific, pointed targeting of women leaves an impression that women are both foreign and essential to political discourse. A political writer in The New Yorker touched on all this when addressing political ads aimed at "women voters":

... that ad, like every ad targeted to women voters for the last half century, including those made by both campaigns this election season, assumes that women are wholly different species of citizen than men. The political imagination of American women, at least according to American political advertisers, begins with our cervixes and ends at the kitchen door.

Notes:

• The "binders full of women" meme nearly obscured the best bit of political gamesmanship by anybody of either party in years: Obama's "Proceed, Governor".

• Embracing gender difference while seeking equality is sort of similar to how feminist theory works in academia, I'd say, from my very limited experience with it.

This is a nice, closed circle

I think up answers to questions no one will ever ask me. And I ask questions of myself I will never answer.

A working class hero is something to be

The Onion has a lot of fun portraying Joe Biden as a free spirit whose working class roots and uncensored attitude clash comically with peoples' concept of groomed, self-preserving politicians. The political right casts him as an idiot, and mainstream media coverage comments on his penchant for "gaffes", but The Onion writers heroize Biden through their satire.

The Onion writers (and, by extension, members of their audience) who love Biden value in him a rebellious streak, his individuality, and his "authenticity" or sincerity, all of which is located in his being uncensored (Biden says what Biden thinks when Biden wants). The justification behind this reverence, however, lies in his being powerful and famous. Ordinarily, The Onion would mock disdainfully a blue collar, working class white who might wash his Trans Am shirtless in the driveway or resort to hitchhiking for transportation. Such a character would be portrayed as too dumb to know which party to vote for or what music to listen to or shows to watch on TV. His wife might even enter their white trash daughter in a child beauty pageant.

Notes:

• Biden, of course, is more competent and astute than one might think after reading about him, and The Onion writers and their audience knows this, which is why the satire works in two ways: it taps into (1) our concept of politicians and (2) our experience with press coverage of Biden.

A shade

Those eyes, which were already surrounded by tiny wrinkles, had begun to betray a worn-out man of doubtful morals, a duplicity, an ever-increasing irony and another shade of feeling, which was new: a shade of sadness and of pain—a sort of absent-minded sadness as though about nothing in particular and yet acute.

    --from Fyodor Dostoevsky's short story, "The Eternal Husband"

Glitzy craps all over the dinner table

The TV show "Here Comes Honey Boo Boo" strings together footage of a lower-class family in the Southern state of Georgia, US. These are rednecks and white trash. The youngest daughter, a frequent child beauty pageant contestant, and her the mother are the center of attention; altogether, the family shown on TV is devoid of manners nearly to the point of being uncivilized. I've only watched maybe 10 minutes of this show but enjoy reading the internet/news articles about it, which are mostly negative. The negativity is partly snobbery but, more so, I think it's evidence of the dominant truth-making discourses in the culture.

The main criticisms run along the following lines:

• The family is being exploited (which underscores the lack of opportunity in this country)

• The show rewards bad behavior (such as laziness, poor health, and having kids by multiple fathers starting at a young age)

• The show ridicules the family (and, by extension, people like them)

The exploitation claim provokes an interesting debate, but it first assumes the other critiques are valid. The other criticisms--I've seen many variants of them--spur from the public assumption and promotion of medical, psychological, and economic discourses that generate knowledge about life. The criticism is drawn from that knowledge: the family's steady diet of junk food will sicken them, reduce their quality and quantity of life, and ultimately create costs to be absorbed by the rest of the population; the sudden fame and the emphasis on pageantry, the patriarchal confusion, and the laissez-faire parenting will prove emotionally crippling. All this might bear out for various reasons, but the widespread condemnation of the show for these reasons shows the power of these discourses in our culture. Society assumes these discourses and polices itself with their truths. It says, "Do not reward this behavior! Society must be defended!"

Notes:

1. Critics who've defended the show use the same discourses, saying the family's emotional health is OK because they are in on the joke and seem like they are happy and have decent familial relationships, etc.

2. Other critics have derided the show's quality, slamming it because it appeals to the lowest common denominator. This judgement, when pursued to its ends, justifies itself in the same discourses.

3. A show, especially one on a cable channel like TLC, doesn't need that many viewers to be a "hit". The standards for calling a show a hit have plummeted the last 20 years.

4. One well-written critique is this one from the AV Club, of which the highlight for me is the following:

We’re meant to laugh at the poor manners that Alana and her sister Pumpkin exhibit when an etiquette teacher comes to help make them more ladylike. It’s not the pair failing to transform into princesses after one session that is depressing. It’s that the show presents even the very idea of them being able to reach a point at which not farting at the table is even possible as a totally improbable idea.

Ah, the coup d'etat of the family's dignity. Now, turn that around: when we train a monkey to roller-skate, we're meant to laugh at the monkey on roller-skates. There's no joke when the animal is untrainable. But, when these girls shrug off attempts to train them in formal behavior, it's a disgrace. (And AV Club comments suck.)

5. The author of the Gawker article, "The Perfect Level of Fame", makes the case that the show and celebrity attached haven't seem to hurt the family, at least. But what gives this piece distinction is the following comment from maryannmom:

• Wow. This is a really long article. I started with the first couple paragraphs, then started skimming, then scrolled to see how much more there was, then read the comments, which were disappointing. So I guess I never will no exactly what the Honey BooBoo phenomenon is, but then this cultural stuff is so depressing, it is starting to make me feel kinda unibomberish, in that hide-yourself-in-a-cabin-without-electricity-kind of way. Feel me?

Some of this person's other comments on Gawker articles:

• Am I evil for hating on those Pinkett-Smiths? And being super annoyed by their tiny starlet baby fake rapper kids?

• I agree. The pressure! You must have to have a thick skin to take all those second guesses and negative opinions and comments. I loved this dress for being feminine. pretty and sexy and showed off her beautiful shoulders and arms. (girl crush!). Yeah, it blows that a guy just gets a suit and is done, but then that is why women are so much cooler. I just saw the Democratic women of the Senate at the DNC and it as great that they had a variety of outfits, sizes, hair and make up. Vive la difference (of style)!

6. These articles from Reality Blurred and Hollywood Reporter say the show isn't funny while making fun of the family the show is about. The Hollywood Reporter article has the line, "Glitzy craps all over the dinner table".

about "The Birth of Biopolitics", lectures by Michel Foucault

The lectures transcribed in The Birth of Biopolitics are the sequel to those in Security, Territory, and Population, a book I read in March. Neither book title really describes the content of the lectures, and this is especially true of the sequel. But Foucault acknowledges this; the mishap is apparently owed to poor planning.

Now, the lectures' original subject, biopolitics, is the governance of phenomenon related to life and population--families, birth rates, disease, hygiene, etc.--and this is with an understanding that governance takes many forms, that population is a kind of construct, that multiple powers are in play, and so on (Foucault qualifies almost compulsively). However, Liberalism provides the frame of reference for understanding biopolitics, so we first need to understand Liberalism. Hence, The Birth of Biopolitics actually explores Liberalism's philosophy and development in terms of tensions which Foucault calls relations of power (Liberalism here being understood as the limiting of government for maximum (economic) effect given the natural phenomenon of the market).

Reading, I was interested but still found the content dry. The Birth of Biopolitics doesn't have the kind of insights I normally look for and value with Foucault. This is more of a history and articulation of a political philosophy than anything else. Mostly, I enjoyed some early sections tracing the movements from governance under a wise sovereign guided by truths to the invocation of a market place and population policed by the state to the limiting of modern government in response to the police state. But, in all, the most lively section for me was Foucault's explication of Adam Smith's famous "invisible hand" metaphor.

Notes:

• I re-read Security, Territory, and Population before starting this one and it was worth it.

dear prudence,

In the ensuing slump of days, moments and presence and details surrendered into the more easily categorizable "day" and "night"; one was for sleeping, the other, not sleeping. Pitifully, if only those two categories kissed in the permanent dusk of hopelessness, he could listen to Emo, maybe even enjoy it. But so relentlessly nameless were the times that nothing could be done.

Not until months later did he think to even look for her. When he did, he went about it craftily but efficiently, only looking in the most unlikely places: in the passenger seat, in the picture frame on his desk, and, early in the morning, lying next to him. Torture, a few days of this. Then he stopped and, on a sheet of wide ruled paper, wrote:

Today I listened to a song that not long ago reminded me of you. I hadn't heard it in awhile and, having come across it again, I feel now its connected not so much with you as with a time, a time that sounds ancient somehow, so I waited for dust to fill my nose.

Then I tried to think of an analogy: "You, your memory, is gum on my shoe: sticky at first, then less so, and then altogether less and less noticeable." But that sounded stupid and insulting and ugly--nothing like you. I know there is nothing like you. And I'll never not ever think of you again. I will think of you often at times, I expect. But now finally I'm getting on, I guess. Or,

But nothing else came to mind. So he folded the page, spelled her name on the front, and, with the magnet bearing the number for Poison Control, pinned the note on the refrigerator.

On the first of the month--16 days later--he restocked the refrigerator with fresh citrus and greens and a 12-pack of grape soda. Pushing closed the appliance door, he removed the note, walked to the study filing cabinet, and tucked the page away in the folder with his priciest receipts.

The New Girl sports her newness

This New York Magazine profile says a Zooey Deschanel is not an Apple product like we all thought. A Zooey Deschanel is actually a constant, expansive, and versatile market force carried out through a persona. And a Zooey Deschanel persona is a composite of associations--associations with sexuality, quirkiness (sometimes mistaken for "originality"), innocence, fun, and indie credibility with all its emphasis on authenticity and sincerity. People, especially those who fancy themselves hip and/or original, explore these conceptual areas for opportunities to escape consumer culture. But every attempt to step outside that culture just expands the Market's reach there (and beyond). A Zooey Deschanel is that reach manifest; her persona is singular in that it does not change whether on or off camera, thereby invoking a claim to authenticity and sincerity that empowers it to follow the hip and the original to new areas into which the market can flourish.


Notes:

The NYMagazine profile writer is aware and even seems vaguely complicit with the permanent marketing campaign of a Zooey Deschanel--until sticking this jab at the end using a Zooey Deschanel's own words:

Hearing the CD reminded me of how she had gotten very impassioned when I asked her if she and Gibbard bonded over music the first time they met. “I’m wary about this thing about being in the generation of social networking where people are like, ‘I am my musical taste,’” she said. “I am not just a collection of music. Or a collection of movies. I think that’s a thing that people romanticize: ‘Oh my God, she likes this band so she is a dream.’ I’ve definitely learned that you can easily get stars in your eyes. I’ll meet directors and they’ll be like, ‘I love Godard!’ And they love screwball comedies and they love all these things I love, and then it’s, like, ‘Wait a minute, that doesn’t mean they can make movies.’“ 

Just because somebody likes something doesn’t mean ... anything, really.”

Right there a Zooey Deschanel shoots down the sole reason she is appealing, and apes the very reaction that people have to her: A Zooey Deschanel is so cute because she likes Hello Kitty! A Zooey Deschanel is a composite of associations and likes that constantly advertises those likes, thereby associating a Zooey Deschanel with whatever associations the audience has with the objects being liked.

In a sense, none of this is unique to a Zooey Deschanel, but it is perhaps taken to a new level and with a new audience.

I first saw a Zooey Deschanel in an Apple product commercial, and I noticed the face design that says, "You are looking at me" (or, "I am a thing that is looked at").

The Higgs, part 2

Back in July when the apparent Higgs Boson discovery was news, I posted here

The physics almost-news about the Higgs boson is simultaneously the most interesting and most boring thing going right now. Maybe this narrative conflict will resolve itself in a nice anti-climax.

This GQ article, "The Higgs Boson: Steaming Particle of Bull$#!%", seems to offer me exacting validation. Is it true that this is the thing that explains the existence of all things? No, "It just isn't true."

Angry Chair

Having watched both the (American) Democratic and Republican conventions a little each night, I found Clint Eastwood's improvised moment with the empty chair during the Republican convention to be the most compelling and meaningful part of the whole charade. But the pundits and critics, who claim to be ready for something authentic and substantive, finally got something that was just that, and they immediately rejected it.

Eastwood said he had cried when Obama was elected (presumably because it was such a powerful moment for a nation with a long history of racism). I take him at his word, and believe he was moved like so many others that night. So what was this moment with the chair all about?

Here's what: The chair was empty, signifying an absence, and speaking silence. This prompts the audience to wonder, Where is the Barack Obama I voted for? Because I don't see him anywhere.

Eastwood begins a sort of pitiful dialog with the missing Obama. He is attempting to recreate a ghost, the faded remains of the projection of his own hopes and dreams from four years ago: "So, Mr. President, how do you handle promises that you have made when you were running for election, and how do you handle them? I mean, what do you say to people? Do you just, you know--I know people were wondering. You don't handle that. OK."

Soon the projection lashes out, judging by Eastwood's reactions: "But, I thought maybe as an excuse--what do you mean shut up?" Here, the projection has taken on a life of its own, and is no longer merely a canvas. The candidate Obama from 2008 is no longer a willing, cooperative partner in this game of imagination. The exercise dissolves, leading Eastwood to his moment of resignation: "And I think it's that time. And I think if you just step aside and Mr. Romney can kind of take over."

Eastwood is hardly a champion for Romney, though: "A stellar businessman. Quote, unquote, a stellar businessman." His talking points covered, sarcastically. Finally, in a turn away from the chair to the listening audience, Eastwood delivers his real message, one of disappointment and disillusion with the whole process: "And, so, they (the candidates) are just going to come around and beg for votes every few years. It is the same old deal." And then, "We don't have to be--what I'm saying, we do not have to be metal masochists and vote for somebody that we don't really even want in office just because they seem to be nice guys or maybe not so nice guys ... "

It's a shame the whole exchange was written off as crazy talk by a misguided old man. Eastwood attempted to inject a moment of truth and sincerity into an obscene display of delusion and dishonesty, but instead he was rejected and held up as proof that the rest of the display is coherent and the system works.

Notes:

• Eastwood badly misread or misunderstood his audience, who they were, and where they were coming from. He may have been misguided in several other ways, too, arguably, but his main point stands.
• His means of communicating was a little unorthodox, so for this reason, too, he was rejected.

Humanities

In a recent interview, Noam Chomsky was given the prompt, "In your new book, you suggest that many components of human nature are just too complicated to be really researchable." He replied,

That's a pretty normal phenomenon. Take, say, physics, which restricts itself to extremely simple questions. If a molecule becomes too complex, they hand it over to the chemists. If it becomes too complex for them, they hand it to biologists. And if the system is too complex for them, they hand it to psychologists ... and so on until it ends up in the hands of historians or novelists. As you deal with more and more complex systems, it becomes harder and harder to find deep and interesting properties.

about Slash by Slash

A few months ago I read Duff McKagen's It's So Easy (And Other Lies), but if I could read only one Guns N' Roses-centric autobiography, I'd read Slash because the latter offers more thrills (courtesy sex, drugs, and rock n' roll). That said, I'm glad I read both because they are different kinds of autobiographies and don't compare.

Slash is an American rock music institution and his autobiography works as such; it's a tell-all that only reinforces the myth because it can never tell enough. Every juicy detail leads you to ask, And then what? And then what? And what was that like?

Duff's autobiography is more traditional; it traces a personal and spiritual journey, one man's rise, fall, and redemption, sharing wisdom gained along the way; Duff has undergone a transformation and, though rock remains important, life is a wholly different venture for him now. Slash on the other hand is just Slash but older and with a relatively cleaned up act.

One thing, though: These two books have reinforced a suspicion I had about Nikki Sixx's autobiography, The Heroin Diaries: A Year in the Life of a Shattered Rock Star--that some creative marketing contributed to its making.

Notes (and highlights)

• Mostly, Slash's version of Axl and the demise of real G N' R is that Axl just got too controlling and was either oblivious to, or totally unconcerned with, the needs and concerns of others.

But, more generally, " ... we didn't have a good line of communication among us about any of these issues, so the end result was serious misunderstanding. Since these points of interest were never discussed, since there was never a conversation about how to adjust our game plan to take everyone's needs into account, we kept doing things the way we had in the past, which considering that we'd changed caused us serious internal tension." Later, "None of us stood back and took a moment to ask one another or ourselves, 'How do we do this? How can we get everyone together and working and satisfied?' We needed to be clear-headed about it; if one thing didn't work, we'd need to keep trying. But we didn't do that."

• On hanging out around LA in the 80's: "I saw a lot, I liked very little, and I was fucking bored the entire time."

• On the past: "So I did everything possible to put distance between yesterday and the present. I've always been that way and I still am. It is why I don't have any memorabilia to speak of: I don't have gold and platinum records, only the guitars that mean something to me."

• About this girl Megan he had been living with for months, spent Thanksgiving with her family: "Before I knew it Christmas was around the corner and Megan started planning a lavish party: she was way into decorations, she bought a fondue maker, and she invited all of our friends to her winter wonderland. It was one of  the most bizarre things I had been involved with for a long time, and the fact that I was straight made that feeling pretty hard to ignore. The day before the party, she came home with about $400 worth of useless garbage that she'd bought at the market to decorate the house. That was my breaking point. I watched her decorate our place, thinking all the while, I don't even know who you are. We had the Christmas party, we had our friends over; and as soon as they'd gone, I set about telling Megan that she had to go as well."

• On hanging out with James Hetfield: " ... I remember that there was a girl that James wanted to fuck and I let him take her into my bedroom. They were in there for a while and I had to get in there to get something, so I crept in quietly and saw James head-fucking her. He was standing on the bed, ramming her head against the wall, moaning in that thunderous voice of his, just slamming away, and bellowing, 'That'll be fine! That'll be fine! Yes! That'll be fine!'"

• Slash was co-written by Anthony Bozza.

James Holmes, madman

The New York Times article "Before Gunfire, Hints of ‘Bad News’" unfolds for us the life of James Holmes leading up the massacre. It pins him down, makes him a subject of analysis, takes us down a path that runs parallel to his even while he diverges from his own. We learn how witnesses remember him, forming a cohesive picture of the subject we can use as a collective memory from which we draw out the identity of James Holmes, an identity through which we can say, "That was something James would do" or "That was not like James," until we know when the madman appeared. So it goes: James was normal when he was quiet and shy, attending school, and, at times, acting goofy and awkward; but then he became a loner and, more troubling, unconcerned with school, which is abnormal. Normal James worked, was willing to work, assumed a career, a productive life. And so his divergence was here--not in the movie theater.

On July 20, 2012, James is said to have killed 12 people and wounded 58 at a midnight screening of "Batman: The Dark Knight Rises". The movie depicts the saga of a crime fighter, Batman, and James allegedly referred to himself as The Joker, Batman's nemesis, a powerful and enigmatic villain, a clever perpetrator of crimes. But James likely will not be judged to have committed a crime, and therefore not be labeled a criminal. He will exist outside the binary of law. The judicial system shines a light on the accused, and they are judged innocent or guilty. James performed his violence in the dark, and his mind just may remain beyond the light. His peers and the experts may decide that James was a madman before he entered the theater. A sane man doesn't just shirk off his ambitions, lose all interest and sympathy for civil society, and abandon his social pretensions. Lock him up. Society must be defended.

My man

He always cuts briskly through the office, efficient and determined. Like a man who just learned his plane started boarding at a different gate some 150 feet away. He looks together, but he dresses nicely, which only feeds my suspicion that he's a wreck. Today, dark gray wool pants and maroon shirt. Long sleeves, naturally. Like all the men in his family, he prefers stalls to urinals. Now, picture a cell buried in the flesh around his armpit; this is where cancer slumbers through the day. Some 3000 days from now, just after sipping the last of the coffee, seated in his kitchenette, it will wake and begin its spill through the lymphatic vessels. He will regret nothing.

The ones who say what is

Scientists recently gave the octopus consciousness. What a nice thing to do. Also, they mistook perceived patterns of central nervous system matter for a thing called consciousness, and themselves for the only ones qualified to say what they see.

The greater suffering is the better suffering

Maybe twice a year for most of his adult life, Samuel Clemens met a mysterious but familiar girlfriend in his dreams, according to some notes of his published in Harper's. Of the first time he lost her in a dream, he wrote, "I turned around, and the log house was gone. I ran here and there and yonder down the lanes between the rows of tombs, calling Alice; and presently the night closed down, and I could not find my way. Then I woke, in deep distress over my loss, and was in my bed in Philadelphia". The published notes close with a final comment on her death in a later dream:

That was a terrible thing to me at the time. It was preternaturally vivid; and the pain and the grief and the misery of it to me transcended many sufferings that I have known in waking life. For everything in a dream is more deep and strong and sharp and real than is ever its pale imitation in the unreal life which is ours when we go about awake and clothed with our artificial selves in this vague and dull-tinted artificial world. When we die we shall slough off this cheap intellect, perhaps, and go abroad into Dreamland clothed in our real selves, and aggrandized and enriched by the command over the mysterious mental magician who is here not our slave, but only our guest.

I like this. The dream life is real because the sense of loss and misery felt there, and felt upon waking, is complete; none of our expressions, including feelings and imagination, are compromised by reason and its accounting for competing obligations and practical concerns; such so-called harsh realities make life "unreal" because they make us "artificial"; and they make us artificial because they make us check our impulses, make us plan and act in strategic interests that are foreign to our nature, so to speak, and that feed into life's complex network of power relationships, the ultimate game of pretend. In dreams, imagination and feeling reign, and they are felt and exercised honestly and fully. The very vividness of their creation is the character of the real.

Notes:

• How amazing to me that he felt such a sense of loss over a dreamed of girl. Grief dreams about real persons, understandable.
• People wake and interpret dreams, introducing the artificial into the real, dressing themselves in reason.

only in dreams

Sneaking into a series of small, connected utility rooms built between the high school and the track, you seemed to know the way, and led me into what seemed like a large maintenance closet, oddly furnished with only a bed. After awhile, we heard people moving somewhere in the complex, coming our way. We started dressing and I was mad at you, thinking, "How careless, to not prepare!" But in a hurry it was forgiven and we started plotting our getaway, having fun, and you looked more beautiful than ever.

something by Tagore

In the Dusky Path of a Dream

   -by Rabindranath Tagore (1861-1941)

In the dusky path of a dream I went to seek the love who was mine in a former life.

Her house stood at the end of a desolate street.

In the evening breeze her pet peacock sat drowsing on its perch, and the pigeons were silent in their corner.

She set her lamp down by the portal and stood before me.

She raised her large eyes to my face and mutely asked, "Are you well, my friend?"

I tried to answer, but our language had been lost and forgotten.

I thought and thought; our names would not come to my mind.

Tears shone in her eyes. She held up her right hand to me. I took it and stood silent.

Our lamp had flickered in the evening breeze and died.

About a Dostoevsky short story

In Fyodor Dostoevsky's short story, "A Disgraceful Affair", we're introduced to a hoity-toity General having drinks with his buddies and running his mouth about how Russia will thrive in an age of what he calls "idealism". That, he imagines, is everyone respecting and caring for one another regardless of class. After one too many, he starts for home. Finding that his coachman isn't there waiting for him, he cusses a storm and forgoes a cab, content to hoof it all the way, mostly to spite his missing servant.

While straying through the ghetto he passes one of his lowly, wretched clerk's wedding receptions. The stewed General daydreams about classing up the party with his presence, in the process blowing everyone's mind with what a kindly superior human being he is. Sounds like a plan, so he stumbles in and, after the initial awkwardness, he settles himself, and even sees a few other underlings in attendance. But soon he is swilling vodka and champagne until he finally gets too drunk and passes out. But not until after making an ass of himself, rambling about idealism and spitting all the time.

At this point we learn the groom--the lowly clerk--shoulders all kinds of misery in his quest to make his way.

Anyway, the party breaks up, and the General thrashes and pukes a little until finally an old boarder woman assumes the job of cleaning him up. In the process, the General promptly sobers up enough to hightail it home where he stays in bed for eight days, laid out with a bad case of humiliation.

On the ninth day, no longer able to bear not knowing how much he's damaged his reputation, the General returns to the office where he finds, to his amazement, that nothing appears to have changed!

At the story's end, we find the General sitting pretty in his office, reflecting on the fact that, not only will he come through with reputation intact, but he's had a pretty awesome productive day to boot. Just then another clerk enters with the day's final paperwork and a transfer request from the new groom. Rather than grant the transfer immediately, the General actually says he'll forgive the young man. At this news, the clerk blushes and excuses himself. This inspires in the General the greatest wound, as

He felt more shame, more heaviness at heart, than he had experienced even during the most unbearable moments of his eight days of illness.

"I have failed to live up to my own ideals!" he said to himself, and sank into his chair--helpless.

I see this conclusion at least two ways: (1) I think there's a triple move there, a series of realizations: first, the General realizes his reputation is shot; second, he realizes that, by party crashing, he only added to the groom-clerk's misery, of which, until then, he had been completely unaware; and third, he realizes that, just now, at the moment when he could have spared the injured groom-clerk the insult of having to work for such a cruel boss, he instead chose to humor the prideful delusions of his own reputation. Or, (2) the General remains oblivious to the sufferings of the inferior folk, and is concerned with his own problems.


Notes:

• I told this guy at work about Dostoevsky's life and themes and he said it sounds like "Tales from the Hood" but earlier. An awesome comparison. But "Tales from the Hood" somehow seems like an older reference point than Dostoevsky does.

A poem

Toes in Wet Grass

  -by me

Wince

or sigh,

a pity.

Ozymandias

     -by Percy Blysshe Shelley

I met a traveler from an antique land
Who said: "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
`My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!'
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away".

about Jonah Lehrer, making meaning, not making sense

Recently, audiences were disappointed to learn that author-journalist Jonah Lehrer fabricated and misrepresented quotes and self-plagiarized. His crime spurred a couple soul-searching response pieces, most of which are summed in Salon's "Jonah Lehrer throws it all away". Here, Roxanne Gay hits a few angles and floats the hypothesis that a guy like Lehrer "fits the narrative we want about a boy genius" because he can "make us feel smarter for finally being able to understand the complexities of the human mind"; he is the product of, and answer to, "a cultural obsession with genius, a need to find beacons of greatness in an ordinary world".

Because there must be some deeper reason he did what he did. Symptomatic of some disease rooted in our culture and in our souls that caused this thing. This fucking thing.

Doesn't this kind of ponderous speculation, this pathologizing, just create, replicate, and self-serve our need for meaning and significance in this "ordinary world"? Or our need for a need for meaning? Couldn't it just be that Lehrer is dishonest? Or that maybe he got lazy? Or that he tried to produce too much too soon? Or maybe we don't know. And it doesn't matter.

Finding the work of guys like Jonah Lehrer and Malcolm Gladwell interesting is one thing, but to mistake these pop-sci/pop-soc writers for preeminent thinkers of relevance and genius undermines the fearlessness, moral courage, and intellectual vigor of the better writers (and artists) who act as critics, stewards, and producers of culture.

Note:

• I'm not convinced self-plagiarism is a thing or that, if it is, it should be so damnable an offense. But in Lehrer's case, if nothing else, it's sort of ironic considering his big theme was creativity.

Gore Vidal, 1925–2012

A few months ago I wrote of a trend in which people write critically of the newly dead. With Gore Vidal now gone, one such item appears in Salon with the clever title "Stop Eulogizing Gore Vidal". But this writer gets it all wrong. He accuses Gore of aristocratic WASP-ish snobbery. Well, yeah, but that's not a damnable offense. The writer's main charge is antisemitism. Gore clearly took a political stance against Zionists; that is not antisemitism. Moreover, in the early eighties Gore urged American Jews to team up with gays and work together to get mainstream acceptance.

Anyway, knocking Gore for condemning a people is like accusing water of hydrating Nazis during World War II. Condemning is what he did. Criticism was one of Gore's biggest talents and he practiced it most of the time. Hell, he looked down on anyone he didn't hate.

This was not a good anti-eulogy.

Notes:

• "Stop Eulogizing Gore Vidal" wins the gold for most crusty, crotchety title.