Kids today

In The New York Times article "A Generation’s Vanity, Heard Through Lyrics", the author says that today's lyrics are a different animal from those of the past, but he stops just short of explicitly agreeing with Dr. Dewall's conclusion that “Late adolescents and college students love themselves more today than ever before". But he indicates his willingness to accept this claim by giving final say to a researcher who supports it.

At best, this study might yield a very loose hypothesis. But adopting this hypothesis requires a tremendous leap because the assumptions behind it are many. Among them are that (1) the Billboard charts accurately reflect listener demographics and (2) lyrics to popular songs reflect listeners' state of mind, thoughts, and attitudes. These two assumptions, which are chief among the many, are themselves deeply flawed.

So why give precious column space to this?

What privileged generation hasn't put subsequent generations under the spotlight and declared them immoral, worthless, and devoid of any real substance? Hey, generation who reads the NYT, it's your turn.

The article: http://www.nytimes.com/2011/04/26/science/26tier.html

2000 changed us

President Obama responded to questions about his citizenship by releasing his long-form birth certificate. The questioners were of two varieties: (1) His critics, led by rich guy and media personality Donald Trump, and (2) the media, who served as the critics' mouthpiece by voicing these questions uncritically.

Last week's drama showed us a powerful man being bullied, and ultimately the peer pressure got him. He had many options for how to or not to respond, but this was not a game he could win. If Obama continued ignoring the birth certificate issue, it would have dogged him, perhaps even stained his legacy. His critics created this rhetorical situation; in his response, a quick morning press conference, the President hoped to deflate critics by framing their preoccupation with his birth certificate as a petty distraction against a backdrop of serious issues: Unemployment, inflation, increasing poverty, decreasing wages, budget and class wars. Obama still failed to make this point.

Some observers accuse his critics, called "birthers”, of racism, of casting Obama as The Other. Probably some of them are racists. But more to the point, I see doubts about his citizenship as attacks on his legitimacy. He’s not my President, they say. The motivation is partisanship more than racism.

In the wake of the 2000 election, about half the voting public remained unconvinced of George W. Bush’s legitimacy. Hell, they questioned his legitimacy as a Texan.

The legitimacy of power should be called into question. Problem is, it isn’t the President who is in power.

To define

The recent NPR report about Wikileaks' Gitmo dump referred to the site as an "anti-secrecy website". The CNN report labeled Wikileaks "an organization that facilitates the anonymous leaking of secret information"; I think this is their official stance. The Wikipedia article defines Wikileaks as "an international non-profit organisation that publishes submissions of private, secret, and classified media from anonymous news sources, news leaks, and whistleblowers".

Why "anti-secrecy" instead of "pro-transparency"? Why highlight anonymity, and not whistleblowing, or exposing, or any other facet of the issue? Because when a label or definition is chosen, the chooser seeks to communicate something about the signified.

Our PR dollars at work

At a recent fundraiser in LA the President attributed his currently low poll approval rating to high gas prices and then, paraphrasing various messages he hears from voters, assured his supporters that, because Americans have values that align with his policy goals, eventually they'll come back to him. He said, according to the White House transcript:

Look, if I wasn’t professionally in this, I wouldn’t be following all these debates in Washington. But when you talk to them about their values, what they care about, then they say, "Of course, we should make sure every child has a good education and gets opportunity," and, "Absolutely, we’ve got to make sure that our commitments to seniors are met," and, "Of course, we want a family whose child has a disability to make sure that child is getting everything possible to allow them to succeed." And, "Yes, internationally, we want to stand on the side of human rights and democracy." And, "We understand the world is complicated, but we have a vision about what America should be in the world and we want to live up to that." And, "Yes, government should live within its means, but we think we can live within its means and still ensure that we’re delivering for the next generation." I have faith in them.

These are values, sure. But first they are the rhetoric of an ideology in support of (1) socialized government services and (2) American intervention. What he is quoting are the voices of people quoting ideological rhetoric. In other words, Of course we should continue taxing and funding public schools, taxing and funding Social Security and Medicare/Medicaid, taxing and funding regime makeovers. The President's quoting the people quoting the marketing of these programs and policies is wonderful.

The WH transcript: http://www.whitehouse.gov/the-press-office/2011/04/22/remarks-president-dnc-event

The Memory of Running by Ron McLarty

Currently reading The Memory of Running by Ron McLarty. The protagonist, Smithy Ide, loathes himself, but with an "Aw shucks" stripe. He alternates attempts at modesty with self recriminations. His intelligence and weight make his two favorite targets.

Smithy's obtuseness might reflect his stunted confidence more so than real stupidity. Time will tell, though, as he's clearly on an arc, at this point in the novel being halfway across the country on a bicycle trip.

This journey will no doubt lead him back to the skinny body he inhabited in his youth. Smithy's overweight adult body seems foreign to him. He negotiates his fat legs like they were a prosthesis and recoils at his gut as if he's found himself dressed in some sad Christmas sweater. Emotionally, he's no better off. He demonstrates zero self-awareness, often repeating things that other people say to him as if he is unsure he understood them and can't access his response.

This can be grating, in a way; Smithy's attempts to talk to Norma, a crippled neighbor woman who has lived trapped in her own house since about age ten, are nearly insufferable strings of non sequiturs, aborted statements, and long-suppressed confessions. I think these dialogs chronicling their budding love are meant to be touching. Somehow.

The book reads pretty easy but isn't all that enjoyable. Smithy operates off some deeply ingrained values and assumptions, and I wish he'd pause to consider this consciously. Anyway, holding out hope for a good twist.

The revolution that surprised the world, and then was quickly forgotten

Just a few weeks ago a pro-Democracy revolution in Egypt successfully ousted dictator Hosni Mubarak. The military then assumed power and its leaders who before served faithfully under the autocrat have since ruled the population heavy-handed, jailing the same protesters the press and government so recently and so reluctantly supported. I struggled to find an article about this in the mainstream press, but eventually stumbled on an April 14 article in The New York Times headlined "Egyptian Military to Review Cases of Jailed Protesters".

The treatment in this article is representative of mainstream coverage. First, the story is buried. Second, it includes portions of each side's statements, but doesn't bother looking into either. Third, the title serves the ends of the favored party in the dispute--in this case, the bought-and-paid-for Egyptian military, whose statement is treated as fact. The meat of the story is this line, however, which lies hidden in the article's waistband: "More than 200 protesters have been detained, tortured or put on trial before military courts in the past several weeks, rights advocates said." This statement is not given the same benefit of the doubt.

The article discussed: http://www.nytimes.com/2011/04/15/world/middleeast/15egypt.html

A right to life, a right to die

This week a single mother was convicted of murdering her nine year old, low-functioning autistic son by withholding his chemotherapy medication. In October 2006 he was diagnosed with non-Hodgkins lymphoma; by February 2008 the crime had been discovered and the boy was placed in his father's custody; a year later, he died.

In her defense the woman claimed she was overwhelmed by her own struggle with depression and her role as a depressed mother with few resources who is solely responsible for a severely sick, disabled child. In other words, she threw herself at the mercy of the court. Of course the prosecution claimed she decided to let the child die; incidentally, this could also have been her defense: That she chose death over life--life being where the state exercised its will, and death, where she exercised hers. It could have been a civil rights issue. Regardless, a few members of the jury have since made statements about their attempts to sympathize with her situation.

I come away with two primary impressions:
(1) She never really owned her child; though he lived with her a time, the state apparently had the prevailing interest in his life (for his sake, of course), making him its ward, subject to its rule;
(2) If the state has part ownership of the child, it also has a responsibility to raise the child; if it will not, then it must provide adequate resources to those who will.

The second point holds even if the facts of this specific case require us to punish the mother.

One report: http://edition.cnn.com/2011/CRIME/04/15/massachusetts.mother.murder/
Another: http://www.google.com/hostednews/ap/article/ALeqM5ghGhsTkTI_Jwn4Y7OOcEDU_gOt1Q?docId=d0923b05603b4faa8d8287fe9ebafaf7

How does his new stuff stack up against the old? I don't really care.

Last week I heard Paul Simon's new album, So Beautiful or So What, reviewed twice on NPR. The first reviewer withholds a definitive verdict on the music. He does, however, imply that Simon may have worn out his once fruitful formulas, and that he relies now more on craftiness than sincerity. Then the review mysteriously concludes with,

Whatever the reason, Paul Simon has made an album that succeeds in blending the two best strands of his solo career: the articulate navel-gazing of his 1972 solo debut and Graceland's 25-year-old rhymin' Simon in rhythm. And only a few songs here could use the heavy hand of a rewrite.

The second reviewer offers praise after first wondering if Simon has yet again rehashed his summit solo effort, Graceland. That's yet another way of asking if Simon has worn out his once fruitful formulas, and does he rely now on craftiness instead of sincerity? The second reviewer concludes,

Maybe these familiar echoes, ghosts of past glories, are inevitable. Maybe, as happens to so many elder statesmen of pop, Simon's best work is in the past. Here's all I know: Whenever my attention drifted while listening to this mixed bag of a record, along would come a stark insight, delivered in a tone of cool ambivalence — the audio equivalent of a tug on the sleeve. That's what is so interesting about this album. It's all "Meh," "So what?" and "Heard that one before." Until, quite suddenly, it's so beautiful.

Both reviewers focus primarily on uncovering the artist's motives. Neither wants to be fooled. They elaborate on what personal drama may be unfolding behind the music rather than on what the music supposedly sounds like and whether they enjoy the sounds they hear. And both assume Simon was once in an ideal state--that of The Sincere Artist.

Often, the art critic seeks an understanding with the artist. In this case, the critics want to know that the artist has taken his own music as seriously as they do. A critic may fault a work or its artist by saying that the work failed to achieve what it meant to achieve; this is a kind of positive criticism in that the work is to be taken seriously despite its faults. A negative criticism, for example, would say that a work takes itself too seriously. Sometimes a work or artist is dismissed outright: "You can't expect me to take this seriously?"

I don't.

First review: http://www.npr.org/2011/04/04/135112880/paul-simon-back-in-graceland-with-so-beautiful
Second review: http://www.npr.org/2011/04/11/135319218/paul-simon-old-sounds-new-perspectives

Enlightening Limits

Sizing up the limits of thought proposed during the Enlightenment and urging us to peek at what lies beyond, Michel Foucault poses a very Foucauldian question to himself about such a brief investigation:

If we limit ourselves to this type of always partial or local inquiry or test, do we not run the risk of letting ourselves be determined by more general structures of which we may well not be conscious, and over which we have no control?

His answer is priceless:

 ...it is true ... we are always in the position of beginning again. 

But that does not mean that no work can be done except in disorder and contingency. The work in question has its generality, its systematicity, its homogeneity, and its stakes.

In other words, Yes, we run the risk. But I have my ways.

These quotes come from his brief 1984 piece titled What is the Enlightenment? The question dates from 1784: That year a German paper posed the question and Immanuel Kant answered. In his response to Kant, Foucault proposes that our modern mode of self-reflection took shape then, and he notes the existence and implications of the shaping mechanisms. The Enlightenment, according to Foucault, is essentially an attitude. Several pages in, though, he tosses off this nugget: "Criticism indeed consists of analyzing and reflecting upon limits".

None of his major points hinge on this statement, but I'm really taken with it.

My first thought is that limits make originality possible. Describing a work of art as "original" is often high praise. But something may be original and not necessarily good; agreed? Critics also often assert that a work of art has value when it advances a conversation--conversations about humanity, time, life, sports, religion, whatever. And advancement means moving beyond where we are at present, being presently at the limit, and as far as we have gotten. But a work of art and its critiques may also center on how the work functions within and comments on pre-established limits. Perhaps a work could even impose limits on itself. In these ways a work of art, be it a song, painting, a dance or film, for example, may not necessarily qualify as original.

Criticism of policy may also concern limits. Who is excluded from the policy? How does the policy work? and, How far reaching are its implication?

Criticism indeed consists largely of analyzing and reflecting upon limits.

Reeves, K.

Some claim Keannu Reeves can't act. I disagree. I propose that his supposed lack of range has as much or more to do with the roles he has played rather than his abilities as an actor. We remember three of his roles now.

First, rookie FBI agent Johnny Utah in 1991's "Point Break". Reeves plays Utah as serious, hyper-focused, a newbie who approaches work professionally and seeks professional respect. Professionalism for him means going by the book--the playbook, that is, because it turns out Utah played quarterback at Ohio State University. His brief moment in the spotlight gave him confidence. But he's not the boastful sort, having had his football career cut short by a knee injury. This injury humbled him, and he copes with the loss of status by throwing himself into his work. With his high-profile quarterbacking days behind him, the new thrill and freedom he finds with the Ex-Presidents gang revives in him the taste for a more glamorous life--a life like he once lived at OSU. So he falls hard for bandit life. I think Reeves conveys all this and more.

Second: Have you ever watched a little white mouse sniff around the inside of a snake cage? This mouse moves with a light but distinct sense of caution, although he doesn't quite understand why. This is exactly how Reeves plays Jonathan Harker, an English estate agent and soliciter assigned to Dracula's account in the 1992 film about the man, directed by Francis Ford Coppola. Agent Utah had none of the subdued fear that Reeves expresses as Harker, whose standoffishness hides sensitivity.

Third, consider Neo in "The Matrix". Here, I see Reeves for the first time playing a blank slate. This strategy allows the audience to project themselves onto his character, Neo. Before he is annointed Neo, we know Reeve's character as Thomas A. Anderson, a shift-working office nobody stuck in the colorless cubicle we call life. He's you and me: Bored and unfullfilled and hoping in his heart of hearts that he's better than average, an innocent victim waiting for a break in the monotony. We want to play a part in the revolution against meaninglessness and slavery; feeling the present one inadequate, we pine for a real life. A real and authentic life. We see our own possibility in Neo just as children see theirs in Alice and see a world of Wonder and Truth on the other side of the looking glass, see it down the rabbit hole.

Keannu acts. I don't know his range, but I believe right now that during his rise to stardom his work was underappreciated.

Who's Who

Who gets political coverage? And why do they get it while others don't? The coverage itself reveals the answer.

For example, today I watched a clip of a morning infotainment show, maybe "Good Morning America", in which Bill Cosby tries to champion an education outreach program in a low-income Connecticut city. Host Meredith Vieira first seeks affirmation that "throwing money at" education--also known as funding education--is not the answer. Then she asks Cosby's opinion on Donald Trump's apparent Presidential bid.

This is one example of the widespread media coverage Trump's pre-campaign campaigning has attracted. By contrast, has a Kucinich bid ever attracted such headlines? Or a Ron Paul? Or any other unconventional candidates? No. The difference is that Trump is corporate-friendly.

Similarly, this week U.S. Representative and Republican Budget Committee member Paul Ryan published his national budget proposal. He likely did not publish the proposal expecting mass media coverage. After all, the kind of "entitlement" cuts he proposes would probably lead to mass protests, were they suddenly passed. Yet, here it is, sharing front page real estate with Donald Trump. No surprise, the details of the budget are not covered. The corporate-friendly bottom line is.

Now, note that both the Republican and Democratic leadership do this: Make their boldest moves when it doesn't matter. For example, Where was this proposal when George W. Bush was President with a Republican Majority in the House and Senate? This kind of question goes unasked.

Nevermind that.

This illuminated quality

Truman Capote could craft a sentence. For example, this one from "Children on Their Birthdays":

Before storms, leaves and flowers appear to burn with a private light, color, and Miss Bobbit, got up in a little white skirt like a powderpuff and with stripes of gold-glittering tinsel ribboning her hair, seemed, set against the darkening all around, to contain this illuminated quality.

Anyway, now I've started reading Kenneth Burke's A Rhetoric of Motives. I've been alternating between fiction and non-fiction. My first impression of this work is that Burke's plainly political commentary is a very pleasant surprise.

Spring

Today's were high clouds. They rose up until they altogether lost definition, first being seen, then seen through, and finally seeming to not matter anymore at all. This would be the one thing you want from anything you look up to.

Iodine 131

Coverage of the nuclear crisis in Japan frequently includes images of people wearing masks--evacuees, mainly. I've also seen special coveralls and sheets being used when people are outside while rain threatens.

These images minimize the perceived threat from radiation because people see them and conclude that, If I can be protected with a surgical mask, it can't be that bad. With the aid of simple technologies such as specialized masks and fabrics, these images tell us, we will be safer. This is one rhetorical component of our technical control over nature.

Our radiation monitors are another component. Gauges and sensors tell us how much danger lurks here. Right now they are out there picking up traces in our milk, our rain water, and our fish. They see the unseen, then tell us what they see, their readings being interpreted by users as numbers and statistics; then the message is passed on to reporters who finally give us articles like yesterday's The New York Times piece "Dangerous Levels of Radioactive Isotope Found 25 Miles From Nuclear Plant". Articles like this also work to minimize the perceived threat from radiation.

According to this article, the discovery of an isotope miles away from the site is "raising questions", but not concerns, not fears. We are then told that the amounts detected would not cause acute radiation illness, and, thus, pose no "immediate danger". A senior scientist's concern is paraphrased, but then he is named as belonging to a group "that is often critical of nuclear safety rules"; in other words, even if nothing was wrong, this guy would be critical.

Moving on, the article gets even more dismissive, going so far as to claim that risks from the contaminated environment could be further minimized in ways such as paving over radioactive dirt and banning fishing in the radioactive sea. This is the tone and message I detect in most articles coming from major news outlets.

Coverage repeatedly assures us the low levels are safe. The idea of a safe threshold is the product of PR. The National Academy of Sciences, among others, says that no threshold is safe.

Article discussed: http://www.nytimes.com/2011/03/31/world/asia/31japan.html?src=twrhp

The official story

I watched President Obama's speech on Libya last night. On ABC, Stephanopoulos et al. claimed the major theme was success. I thought it was that due process had been followed, and I felt this message was aimed at the critics who charged that he'd acted without the consent of Congress. In his response he announced that " ... nine days ago, after consulting the bipartisan leadership of Congress, I authorized military action ... ". This was where the speech got rolling.

Now, Yes, his response was aimed at critics, but not only the Conservative and Progressive leadership who pitch sound bytes all week; he was also addressing a voiceless group with no articulated criticism to offer: The American public confronted with foreign events that are too ambiguous and dynamic to reach conclusions about.

Of course, most Presidential speeches of this sort address the public, and the public is typically composed of critics, both approving and disapproving. But in this case the public's role as critic is highly unusual. We ordinarily have our minds made up about things; not this time.

I think that, as a collective, people are not sure who our allies are right now, not sure democracy is for everyone, not sure what our country's role should be, given our problems at home and ongoing engagements abroad. Mainstream media has done a fine job portraying dissidents in Libya as victims, and the violence as one-sided. But the air of civil war hangs over this story, and the ink from Sunday's paper hasn't covered that smell completely. Large swaths of the public feel ambivalent about populations in other countries, especially the Middle East and Africa. So, last night, for the first time in a long time, the American President faced a population of critics with more questions than preformed opinions. His strategy?: Frame events within our claimed value system, and tell us how the winners will write history.

Hulking mess

Not long ago I found myself thinking about  the Incredible Hulk movies. I much prefer the Ang Lee version of Hulk starring Eric Bana. Besides getting to enjoy the delicacy and subtlety that comes with Lee, his version gives more food for thought because Banner's demons dwell within and Lee puts them in focus. He explores Banner's feelings about his father, his resentment and anger, his loneliness, and his own confused identity.  But in the second version, The Incredible Hulk directed by Louis Leterrier and starring awesome Edward Norton, the focus is mostly on Banner's external enemies. His fiercest battle is with the renegade demon hulk--Tim Roth's character--and their conflict so clearly demarcates good and evil that it diminishes the overall depth of the subject. Even Banner's own anger issue is externalized in the form of the pulse monitor he wears on his wrist--this annoying, beeping measuring stick he vigilantly watches.

In addition to being more visually poetic and richer in substance, Lee's version has few if any clumsy parts. His use of story board frames plays well with the film's comic book origins. Contrast this with the wild leaps in the second version; for example, how about the scene in which Hulk fights the army on the college campus?: The helicopter crashes, debris flies, and quite suddenly the bright, sunny afternoon becomes a dark and stormy night, rain pouring down on the wreckage and the Hulk as he cradles Betty Ross. And the plot? To deal with the Hulk, the army attempts to make another one? Experimentally? Nah.

How like herrings and onions

The article "Do You Have Free Will? Yes, It's the Only Choice" in Monday's The New York Times discusses results of recent and previous surveys on free will and determinism. Responses showed an acceptance of both concepts, depending on circumstance. While addressing this apparent conflict in opinion, the article quotes a Florida State Professor as saying,

It’s two different kinds of mechanisms in the brain ... If you give people an abstract story and a hypothetical question, you’re priming the theory machine in their head. But their theory might be out of line with their intuitive reaction to a detailed story about someone doing something nasty. As experimenters have shown, the default assumption for people is that we do have free will.

Here, he speculates. But while the author and the surveyors hope to identify majority opinion in this debate, the real story lies in the answer to the following questions: Why and How did respondents develop this binary concept? And why is free will the default?

The article does not address these questions directly, but does mention a correlation between a belief in free will and better job performance and honesty. If the correlation is also causation--if believing in free will leads to better job performance--then consider this: One who believes in free will self-disciplines and self-censors, thereby reducing the will, attacking the will, and deferring to the will of authority. (This civil behavior is not unlike the civil code of conduct proposed by Kant in his answer to What is Enlightenment?) This is mind control.

Later the author, with support from academia, suggests that we're all compatibalists. Then the piece concludes,

Some scientists like to dismiss the intuitive belief in free will as an exercise in self-delusion—a simple-minded bit of “confabulation,” as Crick put it. But these supposed experts are deluding themselves if they think the question has been resolved. Free will hasn’t been disproved scientifically or philosophically. The more that researchers investigate free will, the more good reasons there are to believe in it.

Odd conclusion. Neither the research discussed nor the author offer any "good" reasons". If we follow a few leads, we may conclude that believing in free will benefits power; but that is not a good reason. It seems to me the only people "deluding themselves" are the ones who claim to have free will as they wake to their alarm clocks, go to work and login to their machines.

The article discussed above is here: http://www.nytimes.com/2011/03/22/science/22tier.html?pagewanted=1&_r=1

Maybe some other time, some other place

I'm abandoning a book: Kenneth Burke's Permanence and Change. Ninety pages and a few days in, I concede that the book's loosely structured, note-like narrative is a problem. So is the actual train of thought Burke is on.

Written during the Great Depression--between giant wars and amid economic turmoil--one of Burke's major themes is that people's orientations are changing. But not simply that; he elaborates a great deal on a great many things. The specifics of his ideas, however, are fixed in the time during which he wrote, and don't resonate enough for me now, which is odd both for me as the reader and for him as author, given that he emphasizes context so much.

I suspect I misread him, though, given the book's title, because I find myself wishing he had written more generally, that he had supposed not that our orientations were changing right then, but that they are always changing. Right?

I've read some of Burke's other stuff, very much enjoyed it and plan to revisit it soon.

Framed!

This blog/editorial posted on The Economist web site discusses the framing of current violence in Libya and the subsequent US/UN response. The author argues that the violence is in fact a civil war and not merely a popular uprising; furthermore, the implication of this, he writes, is that the US/UN intervention is the deciding of a civil war and not an attempt to protect innocents from violence. The latter, however, is how the media and US government have portrayed the matter.

But when the author guesses the media's motivations for framing events as such, I can't tell if he's being sincere or sarcastic. Probably the former, I'm afraid.

The Economist blog/editorial: http://www.economist.com/blogs/democracyinamerica/2011/03/rhetoric_intervention

Two documentaries, one with humanity

Recently watched Grizzly Man directed by Werner Herzog. Along with filmed interviews of people in and around the action, Herzog uses footage shot by Timothy Treadwell during the thirteen seasons he lived amongst wild grizzly bears in Alaska. We are shown that Treadwell is a troubled man; we see him cuddling a fox in one scene, awestruck by bear dung in the next, and later we see him in a tent, cursing God in Heaven for the drought. This film works for me.

I was especially interested in hearing Herzog's reflections--he has a quiet infatuation with Treadwell and his footage. Throughout the film, Herzog's voice-over describes the story as he sees it. And he sees a great deal.

Treadwell gained measurable fame by living with the bears, and now he has become immortal largely because he died with them when one ate him in 2003.

I enjoyed this documentary much more than I did The Parking Lot Movie. The latter gives voice to the various attendants working in a busy college town parking lot. There is a two-way street of dehumanization traveled by these drivers and the attendants.