Firing Juan, Redux

As the Washington Post's Greg Sargent noted on his blog this morning, Juan Williams finally said what his hyperventilating critics wanted him to say: Yes, it's wrong to judge on Muslim garb alone.

In an article he penned late yesterday, he wrote:

"Yesterday NPR fired me for telling the truth. The truth is that I worry when I am getting on an airplane and see people dressed in garb that identifies them first and foremost as Muslims. This is not a bigoted statement. ... In a debate with Bill O'Reilly I revealed my fears to set up the case for not making rash judgments about people of any faith. ... And I made it clear that all Americans have to be careful not to let fears lead to the violation of anyone's constitutional rights."

As I've said previously, Williams is no bigot. The good, over-sensitive folks at NPR overreacted by firing him. Now, of course, the Washington press corps is using him as a political piñata in our incessant war of liberal v. conservative. I say, enough. Leave the guy alone and, as Sargent aptly put it, "let him get on with his life as a full-blown, out-of-the-closet Fox News personality already."

Old Chinese Proverb

I rediscovered one of my favorite Chinese proverbs today:

"All crows in the world are black."

The normal interpretation is: Some rules, like the natural forces governing the universe, are unbendable. (One plus one will always equal two, despite wishing otherwise.) Politically, I interpret it as: Congress is the finest body of men and women money can buy. Heh.

Great Passages – ‘Mister Roberts’

Mister Roberts is a 1955 film about life aboard an obscure US Navy cargo ship plying the Pacific’s backwaters in the waning days of World War II. The screenplay was written by Rob Hartill.

The protagonist, Lt. Doug Roberts (Henry Fonda), desperately wants to transfer to a combat destroyer before the war ends. The ship’s captain, memorably played by James Cagney, is a crude martinet who won’t permit it. The plot, blending madcap humor with the deadly reality of war, deals with how Mr. Roberts finally gets his transfer. (The crew ends up forging the captain’s signature on the transfer orders.)

Near the film’s end, Ensign Pulver (Jack Lemmon) gets a pair of letters. One is from the beloved Mr. Roberts who is now aboard a destroyer in comat. As the crew gathers around, Pulver reads the letter aloud:

Ensign Pulver: “Doc, I've been aboard this destroyer for two weeks now and we've already been through four air attacks. I'm in the war at last, Doc! I've caught up with that task force that passed me by. I'm glad to be here. I had to be here, I guess. But I'm thinking now of you, Doc, and you, Frank. And Dolan, and Dowdy, and Insigna and everyone else on that bucket. All the guys everywhere who sail from Tedium to Apathy and back again, with an occasional side trip to Monotony. This is a tough crew on here, and they have a wonderful battle record. But I've discovered, Doc, that the unseen enemy of this war is the boredom that eventually becomes a faith and, therefore, a terrible sort of suicide. l know now that the ones who refuse to surrender to it are the strongest of all. Right now I'm looking at something that's hanging over my desk. A preposterous hunk of brass attached to the most bilious piece of ribbon I've ever seen. I'd rather have it than the Congressional Medal of Honor. It tells me what I'll always be proudest of: That at a time in the world when courage counted most I lived among 62 brave men.”

Pulver quietly reads the second letter. It’s from a friend who is serving on the same ship as Mr. Roberts. He learns Roberts was killed in combat. "A Japanese kamikaze hits a 40mm battery and goes through into the wardroom, Doug was getting a cup of coffee." The film is based on a 1946 novel and 1948 broadway play written by Thomas Heggen. Jack Lemmon received the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor.

“From Tedium to Apathy ... with an occasional side trip to Monotony.” 

Great screenwriting, great acting, great movie.

Delusion’s mistress

Having been in the public eye over the years as a journalist, I’m long accustomed to the occasional disparaging remark thrown my way. It comes with the territory. The bane of our existence today is the online “troll.” You know them. The unhinged ones, the ones who write ungrammatically in ALL CAPS in the service of spewing bilge. The Urban Dictionary aptly defines the troll as someone who likes “being a prick on the internet because you can.”

The nice thing about Twitter is that one can easily ignore trolls. If someone opts to slime me, it only shows up in my “mentions” list (which only I can see). And it just sits there, between the other mentions or spam. It disturbs neither me nor my fledgling band of followers. If I choose to block a troll, I can do so in two mouse clicks. And, poof, they're outta of my life forever. Sweet. That’s one small step for Twitter, one giant leap for humankind online.

Glancing at my mentions list this afternoon, I spied my first real troll. Apparently, this guy objected to a brief post I made about Glenn Beck, the conservative firebrand. My post read: “The Beck Effect: Psychiatrists rightly worry about negative effects of Beck's conspiracy theories.” I then pointed readers to the Media Matters article that discussed it. My opinion was expressed in the word “rightly.” That’s it.

The troll, whom I won’t name, responded with venom:

“You mean facts. NOTHING [Beck] has said has EVER be proved to not b true. Your sandcastle is crumbling from under your feet.”

As former Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld would say, “Oh my goodness gracious.” Wow. Nobody has proven Beck wrong? (He's gotta be kidding, right?) My “sandcastle” is crumbling …? Talk about dancing with delusions. I was all like, just wow.

One could label me an Obama Democrat. I lean left. But I’m essentially a moderate, a pragmatist, if you will. On Twitter, I tend to attract like-minded folks or flat-out liberals – and a smattering of moderate conservatives. So I’m thinking, okay, who is this guy and why is he following moi?

My curiosity piqued, I checked out his Twitter profile. He lives in “Milan, Italy & Manalapan Fl,” he says. Italian-American, maybe? His bio reads: “Chef/owner Cafe Grassano, LaRosa dei Venti. I curse ALOT. Especially to liberals. Dont like? Pls stay away.” Okaaay. His profile picture features a group shot of cast members from The Sopranos. Ah, I get it: a capo wannabe – who tweets. South Florida meets Jersey Shore's "The Situation," perhaps?

Ha! There is so much wrong with this picture on so many levels that … well, let’s just say Dr. Sigmund Freud would have a proverbial field day with this guy. He’s a veritable feast of delusional ticks. And what he oh so desperately wanted, nay needed, was a response from me – the angrier, the better. He didn’t get one. And won’t. I blocked him instead. Though telling him to fuck off (or get into rehab) might feel good, I learned long ago that it’s always a bad idea to exchange words with trolls. It’s an exercise in futility. For trolls it is: I affront, just because I can – therefore I am.

There seems to be thousands if not millions of trolls out there, pathetic souls our society may have wrought. Because the Internet is such a willing mistress, their numbers may climb. With imagination and luck, maybe the Internet wizards can innovate ways to re-channel their psychosis’s into something positive, for their sakes and society’s. In the interim, trolls, it’s like the capo wannabe says: “Don’t like? Pls stay away.” :D

Symbiosis on steroids

I was gonna pass on this, but I couldn’t help myself. Some of the more alluring cast members of Glee posed in a photo shoot for GQ magazine. The female actors appear scantily clad in a high school setting. The media’s excuse for focusing on the story is the supposed outrage of parents.

As in: OMG! OMG! They’re sexualizing high school! OMG! It’s boderline-pedophila! OMG! Quick, cover your eyes, little Jimmy and Jane! OMIGOD!

Never mind that all involved in the GQ shoot are over 21. And never mind that besides the pious umbrage of a single do-gooder lobby group (the Parents Television Council, whatever that is), there’s not a shred of actual evidence that parents are freaking out coast-to-coast.

But why let the facts get in the way of a good story, right? For the media, it’s a chance to showcase some variant of headlines like “GLEE GONE WILD!” Then they just sit back and watch the page views or ratings roll in. Easy money, baby. And, on cue, the repressed but libidinous public will elbow each other in the rush to the GQ website. (Memo to the freaked-out: It’s the link in the first paragraph. No shoving, please. You’re welcome.)

Ain’t life grand in these United States?

Firing Juan

As you may have heard, NPR fired longtime journalist Juan Williams over comments he made about Muslims and terrorism on the Fox Channel's "The O'Reilly Factor." Read about it here.

The offending remarks:

"I mean, look, Bill, I'm not a bigot. You know the kind of books I've written about the civil rights movement in this country. But when I get on a plane, I got to tell you, if I see people who are in Muslim garb and I think, you know, they're identifying themselves first and foremost as Muslims, I get worried. I get nervous."

Do Williams' remarks (spoken honestly, I think) verge on intolerance? Yes. Do they amount to a firing offense? That is the question. Conservatives are all atwitter, calling his firing an example of out-of-control political-correctness. For once, they’re probably right. Having followed Williams' reporting on civil rights and minorities for years, I'm convinced he's no bigot. His curiously calorie-free commentaries on NPR and Fox are another story, and have given me pause often. But Williams is a political pundit paid for his opinions. And in this case I think NPR set the bar too high.

That said, I largely agree with Matthew Ygelsias’ assessment:

“Like Jon Chait I don’t like the idea of hair-trigger firings of people who step in it while making on-the-fly comments. At the same time, I’m against non-interesting non-insightful political commentary. And I’m very much against the idea, all-too-prevalent today, that certain kinds of punditry perches should be treated like tenured professorships from which people can only be let go for some kind of egregious misconduct. So while I wish this series of events hadn’t gone down in this way, I can hardly say I’ll miss Williams once he’s gone from NPR.”

I won’t particularly miss him on NPR either. Williams is very much a part of the Washington Convention Wisdom Machine. Hopefully, this turn of events will free his inner historian, and allow a return to investigative journalism, an area in which he excels. Two of his books, “Eyes on the Prize: America's Civil Rights Years” and “Thurgood Marshall: American Revolutionary” are nothing less than brilliant.

++++++++
UPDATE: Per the Washington Post, "Fox News on Thursday awarded Williams a new multiyear contract worth nearly $2 million that will expand his role on the cable news channel and its Web site." I didn't think this story was going to get any stranger, until it did. Wow.

Church & Stupid

Senate Republican nominee Christine O'Donnell (Delaware) debated her Democratic opponent (Chris Coons) again the other day.

Long story short: She didn't know that the First Amendment prohibits federal establishment of religion. You know, the whole separation of church and state thing? Though O'Donnell laughed off her ignorance, her stupidity remains self evident.

However, Slate's William Saletan took a different tack in explaining his incredulity:

"The disturbing thing about this episode isn't O'Donnell's ignorance of the First Amendment. As her damage-control interview makes clear, that ignorance has now been repaired. What's disturbing is the bemused confidence with which she mocked the truth. It's the same confidence with which she dismisses evolution, claims that America has gone socialist, and asserts that 'American scientific companies are cross-breeding humans and animals and coming up with mice with fully functioning human brains.' Ignorance is temporary, but imperviousness is forever."

He's right. Frightening, isn't it?

The Madness of King George

Think metaphor, not the movie. King George is us, our political selves. With that in mind, Jonathan Chait, an editor at the New Republic, notes that "polls have shown that the public trusts President Obama and Congressional Democrats more than Congressional Republicans. Yet the public is prepared to give the Republicans a huge victory. Why?"

Why, indeed. Talking to psychologists (yes, it has come to that), Slate's Shankar Vedantum learned it's something called "action bias":

When we are stuck in a bad place, whether that bad place is a marriage, a traffic jam, or a weak economy, it is very tempting to try something new. Psychologists call this the action bias—and it turns out to have surprisingly broad ramifications.

When a company starts losing money, or a whole industry starts losing ground because of a new technology, most of us follow leaders who call for revolutionary change—even if no one really knows what change is needed. Leaders who advocate the status quo look like dinosaurs.

Why do we habitually choose action over inaction when things are bad? The intuitive answer is that action promises to get us out of the mess we're in. But that intuition turns out to be wrong. The action bias is driven less by the fear of failure than by the fear of regret.

Crazy times. To quote one of the characters in The Madness of King George, "One may produce a copious, regular evacuation every day of the week and still be a stranger to reason." Yes, quite.

Straight Eye for the Queer Guy

The headline, of course, is a play on the title of that curious TV show "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy," which was all the rage back in the day. Anyway, about the picture (left): I lifted it from Tom Ricks blog. Ricks, military author and columnist for Foreign Policy magazine, applauded the Pentagon's (temporary) decision to allow openly gays into military service. So do I. He added the obviously Photoshopped pic for fun.

And instinctively, I chuckled at the photo - a parody of supposed gayness. But then it occurred to me that we heteros (especially us male heteros) need to grow up, and fast. The photo, like the all too common phrase "that's so gay," is stereotypical. And that's no laughing matter. Just something to chew upon, my noble friends.

Relics in black & white

Sharon Angle, the 2010 Republican nominee for the US Senate turned 61 in July. She grew up in Nevada’s flyover country during the 50s and early 60s. The world was starkly black & white then. If you weren’t white, then one largely existed as Ellison’s Invisible Man – a marginal, two-dimensional “extra” in the play we call life. To be sure, it was also no picnic for Angle and her female ilk. She could vote and do the other things, but in the eyes of many men, she was hardly equal – a point “Mad Men” has repeatedly driven home. But it was post-war America. And Elvis was King.

For many in Angle’s generation, racial views (usually stereotypic, often negative) were imprinted deep and early. For most of these folks, such views lived in the subconscious as passive assumptions. Many in that generation later recognized the folly of such views and purged them. Many, alas, never did. Angle, I suspect, falls in the later group, however innocently.

Until proven otherwise on Law & Order, I will assume Angle is a decent, well-intentioned person. To the extent that she has exhibited racism, it likely derives from ignorance rather than malice (though neither is excusable). To the extent that her recent campaign ads bashing her opponent (Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid) are racist, it likely derives from a combination of political cynicism (do whatever the fuck it takes to win) and ethnic insensitivity (which again stems from ignorance).

The ads in question – which depict scary, dark-skinned men associated with words like "alien" – took Reid to task for allegedly being soft on illegal immigration. It sparked an uproar in Nevada’s Latino community. Angle rushed to contain the wildfire by holding a televised meeting with Hispanic high school students. She promptly made a mess of it. Angle, who is not the brightest bulb, said the ads do not “necessarily” portray Latinos. In other words, she implied, who you gonna believe, me or your lyin’ eyes?

Then, making things worse, she said:

"So that's what we want is a secure and sovereign nation and, you know, I don't know that all of you are Latino. Some of you look a little more Asian to me.  … What we know, what we know about ourselves is that we are a melting pot in this country. My grandchildren are evidence of that. I'm evidence of that. I've been called the first Asian legislator in our Nevada State Assembly."

The kids were duly insulted. And Angle looks about as Asian as I do. Yet, it is what some members of Angle’s generation always do when confronted by race. They panic and then go into some tired rendition of I’m-not-a-racist-why- some-of-my-best-friends-are-[insert ethnic group]. That’s pretty much what the Asian remarks amounted to. And everyone saw right through them.

Look, Angle is a horrible politician and clearly stupid. But she is probably not a bad or immoral person. Carl Paladino, the GOP nominee in New York’s gubernatorial race, is the alpha male version of Angle. They are different sides of the same cultural coin. Paladino has admitted (unapologetically, mind you) to sending blatantly racist and sexist e-mails to co-workers prior to joining the governor’s race. His defense: Hey, I’m just a regular, blue-collar Joe. (He’s a multimillionaire.)

Angle and Paladino are two living relics of America’s past. They cannot help being what they are: insensitive schmucks. And at ages 61 and 64, respectively, it’s unlikely these old dogs are going to learn any new tricks. They are the folks one simply writes off. By the grace of god, America is no longer a ‘50s era TV show in black & white. The Invisible Man is no longer invisible.

Great passages – Dickens

Any literate reader will recognize the opening passage in “A Tale of Two Cities” by Charles Dickens. But one never tires of reading it.

“IT WAS the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way- in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.”

The novel ends with the guillotining of Sidney Carton, a principal protagonist. The book’s final poetic line is familiar to virtually every reader of literature: “It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to, than I have ever known.”

The high cost of political rent

Last night, during the debate among NY gubernatorial candidates, yet another Motley Fool climbed uninvited atop the media stage to claim his 15 minutes of fame. Today, the media is not discussing Andrew Cuomo, the prohibitive favorite for governor. Instead, the talking heads are giggling like little girls about the "Rent Is Too Damn High" Guy, the aforementioned Fool (pictured left).

For the record: The Fool’s name is Jimmy McMillan. He lives in Manhattan. He claims to be a karate expert (uh huh, right). He always wears black gloves. He’s a legal but fringe candidate for governor. Based on his debate performance, he’s both glib and a few screws short of a Bronx hardware store. His articulated positions were profoundly content free. That’s about all we know about him. And, trust me, I won’t be digging for more. (By the way, the "Rent Is Too Damn High" slogan is not a metaphor for anything lofty. McMillan is solely and literally talking about the high rents in New York City. Hope I didn't dash your hopes.)

Like his hapless predecessor, Alvin Greene, the "Rent Is Too Damn High" Guy is being relentlessly mocked coast-to-coast by the political media. It will continue into this evening, and then onwards through tomorrow’s dawning light. His name or voice is gracing every cable news show, almost every news website and as many blogs as there are stars in our galaxy. Naturally, McMillan is basking under the media Krieg lights, and intent on getting his full 15 minutes worth. And the “Vichy” press is only too happy to pick up the tab.

Alvin Greene, now a forgotten figure, got similar treatment from the media cool kids at Pundit Jr. High School. The mutton-chopped McMillan is the new kid on campus, horn-rimmed glasses askew. Oh, look – another weirdo to mock mercilessly in public. Giggle. Ask him to say “Da Rent Is Too Damn High” again. Giggle. Where do they come from? Giggle. Now, by coincidence of nature, both Greene and McMillan are black. While there is no racism involved here, it’s a bit disturbing to see how both Greene and McMillan so readily slip into minstrelsy (of a sort) while a mostly white audience so readily laughs.

But like I said, this isn’t about race. It’s about our present culture. Alvin Greene can perhaps be forgiven because, well, he’s a Brother from Another Planet, so to speak. The "Rent Is Too Damn High" Guy, on the other hand, is a classic product of our celebrity-reality-television obsessed culture, and a media news complex that happily encourages it for profit. Greene, McMillan, O’Donnell, Paladino, Angle, Palin, Beck, Limbaugh and aspiring dittoheads are what we have wrought. In terms of the political price we’re paying as a society, McMillan is right, ironically. The rent is too damn high, at least for this observer.

Campaign Wars - Episode V

While Christine O'Donnell takes advanced campaign training from Yoda, her friends are relentlessly pursued by Darth Palin as part of a plan to "take back" America.

Yoda: Yes, run! Yes, a candidate's strength flows from The Stupid. But beware of the dark side. Anger, fear, aggression; the dark side of The Stupid are they. Easily they flow, quick to join you in a fight. If once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny, consume you it will, as it did John McCain's apprentice - Sarah Palin.

Christine O'Donnell: Palin ... Is the dark side stronger?

Yoda: No, no, no. Quicker, easier, more seductive.

Christine O'Donnell: But how am I to know the good side from the bad?

Yoda: You will know... when you are calm, at peace, passive. A candidate uses The Stupid for celebrity and money, NEVER for good.

Christine O'Donnell: But tell my why I can't ...

Yoda: No, no! There is no "why".

Later in the movie:

Obi-Wan: You don't know that. Even Yoda cannot see America's fate.

Christine O'Donnell: But I can help them! I feel The Stupid!

Obi-Wan: But you cannot control it. This is a dangerous time for you, when you will be tempted by The Stupid's Dark Side. Mind what happened to Darth Palin!

Sorry, I just couldn't help myself. It was just easier than expounding on the shocking number of knuckleheads running for office this year. This took me all of 3 minutes to compose. And the scary thing is how little re-writing I had to do. Swap out the Force with The Stupid, and Vader with Palin, and it nearly writes itself. Ha!

Politics as performance art

Politico columnist Roger Simon on today's body politic as it relates to the presidency (meaning Obama):

But theatrics are how a president sells himself and his policies, and if he fails to master those theatrics, or finds those theatrics too demeaning, then he and his party really will be voted off the island. And quickly.

I wish it were not so, but Simon's observations seem to be a sad fact. (Even scarier, Simon, a longtime journalist, seems to have bought into the notion.) At some level, perhaps this has always been the case throughout American history. But there is something fundamentally wrong, it seems to me, with demanding that our presidents -- be he Bush or Obama -- "perform" for the cameras at the relentless urging of the press. Not only wrong, but dangerous. Anybody with Hollywood good looks, charisma and innate acting skills can perform. Think Palin. But few can be capable presidents. Think Lincoln.

Un-FAIR study, sorta

Media Matters posted excerpts from a new study by FAIR (Fairness and Accuracy in Reporting) today. FAIR accuses PBS' NewsHour of falling "far short of its mandate to "give voice to those 'who would otherwise go unheard' and help viewers to 'see America whole, in all its diversity.'" Their bottom line: NewsHour guest lists skew white, male, Republican, and corporate.

I won't quibble with FAIR's basic findings, which are probably, mostly correct. (To be fair, I should note that FAIR lists to port politically, as does Media Matters.) But an old dictum by Winston Churchill sprung to mind as I tweeted about it earlier. During a House of Commons speech in November1947, Churchill quipped, "Democracy is the worst form of government, except for all those other forms that have been tried from time to time."

Yes, the NewsHour bears guilt for not diversifying its guest list fast enough. And that's bad, except for all those other forms of cable news shows out there, as Churchill might say.

FAIR is right to hold news outlets accountable. Lord knows it needs doing. But I'd like to see more examination of cable "news" train wrecks like Fox & Friends, Hardball, O'Reilly, Countdown, Morning Joe – and the other usual suspects who regularly invite talking heads as guests. The NewsHour (whose staff is far better diversified than most) at least is trying to produce good, objective journalism. All the others, in contrast, seem mindlessly hell-bent on wrecking our democracy.

Homeward chickens, meet roost

A year or so after our military “surge” in Iraq, I had a heated (but friendly) row with my editor. He, a conservative, maintained the war was all but won. I, a moderate Dem, argued that he was nuts. True, the surge generally realized our military goals (enhanced security). But, I argued, it failed in its main objective: To create political conditions conductive to reconciliation among the ethno-political factions. Or in the words of President Bush: “...unified, democratic federal Iraq that can govern itself, defend itself, and sustain itself.”

The key phrases being “unified” and “govern itself.” Until those things happened, I loudly said, this sucker would come back to haunt us, big time. Becalm yourself, the surge would lead to an Iraqi-style Jeffersonian democracy, said my editor with the serene assurance of a Roman Tribune. Keep dreamin’, Tiberius – it would not, said I with the certainty of a wild-eyed barbarian attired in animal skins. Would so, would not, would so, would not – etcetera. I then placed my right thumb under my nose and mockingly wiggled my fingers. (Okay, I made up that last part. Hey, it’s poetic license, like in the movies.) My editor (a good chap) and I finally agreed to disagree.

Fast forward to 2010: On Sunday, the NY Times reported that the Sunnis who were allied with us during the famous “Awakening” (thereby aiding the surge) were now rejoining the bad guys:

Although there are no firm figures, security and political officials say hundreds of the well-disciplined [Sunni] fighters — many of whom have gained extensive knowledge about the American military — appear to have rejoined Al Qaeda in Mesopotamia. Beyond that, officials say that even many of the Awakening fighters still on the Iraqi government payroll, possibly thousands of them, covertly aid the insurgency.

Oh, and the Shiite-led government still has not formed a working parliamentary majority since the national elections this year in March, let alone achieved any semblance of Shia-Sunni-Kurd unity. This, mind you, is nearly four years after our “victorious” surge (and eerily similar to Dubya’s dubious “Mission Accomplished” declaration).

In short: Toldja.

Damn, I hate being right all the time. And, of course, I’m being facetious. Tom Ricks, the Pulitzer Prize-winning author of “Fiasco: The American Military Adventure in Iraq,” feels as I do about the turn of events in Iraq: Sad, not surprising and probably inevitable. Ricks asks, “The big question is how far the Sunni Awakening reversal will go.” He doesn’t know the answer but writes, “I am hearing through the grapevine that things are getting friskier.”

There isn’t a single entity on Earth that can match us militarily. You confront us on the battlefield, you die. But, post-occupation, America doesn’t do the imperial-empire-colonial thing very well. Never has. (We were kinda traumatized by that whole Revolutionary War thing in 1775. It left a scar.) The Romans – who wrote the original “Empires for Dummies” – were masters at it for a long, long time. So were the British. But both ultimately failed, victims (in part) of hubris, imperial overreach and us barbarians. And even if Washington were suddenly to go all Rudyard Kipling on us, we could neither be as savagely uncompromising as Rome nor as savagely Machiavellian as Pax Britannica. Nor should we aspire to be. Yet, in Iraq and Afghanistan, one could argue that therein lies the thorny horns of our dilemma.

I wish my friend and former editor had been right. Had he been so, the troops might be home from these damned (but, alas, necessary) conflicts. Instead, I’m now left wondering whether the proverbial chickens are coming home to roost in Iraq. It’s an argument I’d be delighted to lose.

Great passages - Krakauer

“Straddling the top of the world, one foot in China and the other in Nepal, I cleared the ice from my oxygen mask, hunched a shoulder against the wind, and stared absently down at the vastness of Tibet. I understood on some dim, detached level that the sweep of earth beneath my feet was a spectacular sight. I’d been fantasizing about this moment, and the release of emotion that would accompany it, for many months. But now that I was finally here, actually standing on the summit of Mount Everest, I just couldn’t summon the energy to care.”

Those words belong, of course, to intrepid author Jon Krakauer describing himself atop Everest in his bestselling “Into Thin Air,” a harrowing tale of risk, hubris, sacrifice, foolishness and death on that mountain. As one NY Times book reviewer put it, “People climb Mount Everest because it -- and the money -- is there.” Krakauer was there, and he explains Everest’s hypnotic (and often fatal) allure brilliantly.

Our 'Mad Men' Times

NY Times arts reporter Dave Itzoff interviewed "Mad Men" creator Matthew Weiner about the end of Season 4. The entire piece is worth a read. This portion jumped out at me:

Itzoff: Are you able to enjoy the culture of 2010, or are you always on the lookout for stories for your show?

Weiner: "No, no, no. First of all, half the stuff I tell you comes from right now. And one of the great things about the show is that people share their stories with me, and “I just say, That’s mine.” [laughs] My job as an artist is to channel the feelings I have about society right now, these are the things I’m feeling about our isolation, about our ambiguous relationship with materialism, about failure, about our declining self-esteem. About our attitude towards change and technology. These are things I’m feeling every day, that I put into the show."

"The other aspects of things that are going on in entertainment right now are frustrating to me. I’ve been very disappointed with whatever has happened to the business model that has made the movies so incredibly unattractive to me. I’m so starved ... But it’s been a bummer. It’s a bummer to see movie after movie where so many talented people get together and so much money is spent, and they’re just bland, lifeless, familiar, fake. I’m not a superhero, it’s not one of my interests. It’s O.K. for it to be a fraction of the entertainment that’s out there, but it can’t be everything. And I have four little boys so I’m seeing everything. And they’re tired of going to the movies."

Itzoff: That’s a sad commentary.

Sad, indeed. So it's just not me. Moreover, Weiner's observation about our societal decline in self-esteem is intriguing. If true, then it helps to explain the wave of irrationality pervading our body politic today. The sense of fear brought on by economic adversity and cultural change (which Obama embodies) and the alienation from authority figures (including even the good incumbent politicians) are not unlike the low-esteem issues suffered by a patient. Anyway, it's at least worth pondering in our Mad Men times.

Great passages - Le Carré

Meet John le Carré, the espionage genre’s master storyteller. On the first page of “Smiley’s People,” Le Carré transports us to Paris: We are somewhere in a dreary quartier. It is the “boiling month of August” – the 4th, to be precise. A church bell has just chimed, just ahead of a factory bell. A “stocky woman of about fifty” (a Russian émigré? A Stalingrad survivor?) emerges from a darkened warehouse carrying a shopping bag. She sets off along the pavement to the bus-stop, “full of her usual energy and purpose.”

Le Carré picks it up from here:

“The heat, fouled by exhaust fumes and unwashed by the slightest breeze, rose at her like the heat from a lift-shaft, but her Slavic features registered no complaint. She was neither dressed nor built for exertion on a hot day, being in stature very short indeed, and fat, so that she had to roll a little in order to get along. Her black dress, of ecclesiastical severity, possessed neither a waist nor any other relief except for a dash of white lace at the neck and a large metal cross, well-fingered but of no intrinsic value, at the bosom. Her cracked shoes, which in walking tended outwards at the points, set a stern tattoo rattling between the shuttered houses. Her shabby bag, full since early morning, gave her a slight starboard list and told clearly that she was used to burdens. There was also fun in her, however. Her grey hair was gathered in a bun behind her, but there remained one sprightly forelock that flopped over her brow to the rhythm of her waddle. A hardy humour lit her brown eyes. Her mouth, set above a fighter’s chin, seemed ready, given half a reason, to smile at any time.”

As you can see, Le Carré has astounding descriptive powers. In a single passage, we learn a lot about this woman. But we hunger for more. A few paragraphs later, one is hopelessly drawn into Le Carré’s vividly painted world of espionage. And there’s no leaving it until you’ve read the last page. I first read “Smiley’s People” some 25 years ago. But the mental image of this stocky woman in black waddling along a hot Parisian street has never left me. Amazing.

Sexty Beast

Shaking his head in befuddlement, the Washington Post's Stephen Rodrick explores the NFL enigma known as Brett Favre who even his own agent calls a "drama queen." Excerpts:

[The] Text de Favre allegations seem as preordained as they are baffling. Favre is a coarse guy who has copped to every indiscretion imaginable short of bad tipping at Applebee's, and he is simply joining a long tradition of sports stars sinking into the moral primordial ooze. Only this time, the media-industrial complex is joining him.

Bizarrely, the only person whose actions in this whole fiasco ring remotely true is the creep in the No. 4 jersey. While the specifics couldn't be predicted, Favre's alleged revolting behavior and subsequent tear-filled apology to his teammates for being a "distraction" were as predictable as the quarterback throwing into double coverage late in a game. He's been warning us for years. Favre's public fall doesn't resemble the descents of Tiger Woods or Lance Armstrong, holier-than-thou icons whose comeuppances had more to do with their self-righteousness and hypocrisy than their sins. Favre was never that guy. He's always been a redneck, an egomaniac, an addict and an eternal child. Those shocked by the allegations haven't been paying attention. To paraphrase the philosopher coach Dennis Green, Favre is who we thought he was.

Ouch. A good read. Check it out.

Oh stewardess! I speak jive.

Quote of the day from the movie "Airplane!":

Jive Lady: "Jus' hang loose, blood. She gonna catch ya up on da' rebound on da' med side." Jive Dude: "What it is, big mama? My mama no raise no dummies. I dug her rap!" Jive Lady: Cut me some slack, Jack! Chump don' want no help, chump don't GET da' help! Jive ass dude don't got no brains anyhow! Hmmph!

Heh.

UPDATE: Just heard. 'Leave It to Beaver' star Barbara Billingsley dies at 94. The speaker of the above quotes is of course Billingsley. She'll always be "June Cleaver" to me, but she's now available for any "jive" translation duty in heaven. Rest in peace, dear lady. Here's the LA Times obit.

Great openings in literature

Another. This one, as you should recognize instantly, is from Herman Melville's famous "Moby Dick":

"CALL me Ishmael. Some years ago -- never mind how long precisely -- having little money or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen, and regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off -- then I account it high time to get back to sea as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball."

In these maddening times, I suspect most of us wish we could "get back to the sea." (I'm enjoying this so much, I'll try to post great openings or passages on a daily basis. Besides, it's a good excuse to revisit some of the dustier corners of my home library.)

Great moments in writing

The memorable opening lines of Vladimir Nabokov’s “Lolita”:

“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta.”

For you aspiring writers out there, it just doesn’t better than that.

Saturday quick hits

Let Them Eat Cake: On this day in 1793, Marie Antoinette, wife of Louis XVI, is guillotined at the height of the French Revolution.

Thought I saw a Bunny Wabbit!: On this day in 1923, The Walt Disney Company is founded by Walt Disney and his brother, Roy Disney.

A Long Time Coming: On this day in 1940, Benjamin O. Davis Sr. is named the first African American general in the United States Army.

Eyeball To Eyeball: On this day in 1962, the Cuban Missile Crisis between the United States and Cuba began. Armageddon was averted when the Russians finally "blinked" 13 days later.

Was Cleopatra hot?

Pulitzer Prize-winning biographer Stacy Schiff has a new book out about the enigmatic Last Queen of Egypt (“Cleopatra: A Life”). The NY Times has a fun interview with her; though methinks Schiff has fallen in love with her subject. But then, who can blame her? Cleopatra is an alluring figure. Just ask Julius Caesar or Mark Antony.

Reading the interview, I learned Cleopatra was Greek, not Egyptian. I had no idea. The thermo-nuclear, smokin’ hot babe actress who plays the queen in HBO’s Rome (Lyndsey Marshal, pictured) sure looks Egyptian to me. And for my mind’s eye, it was a perfectly luscious fine image. Now Schiff has screwed all that up. Thanks.

Schiff takes issue with historians who believe Cleopatra leveraged her looks and slept her way to the top. I'll defer to the biographer on that charge. But that got me to thinking about the truly crucial question. In real life, was Cleopatra hot? (Hey, c’mon, it’s Friday night, okay?)

After all, per Wikipedia, French philosopher Blaise Pascal (1623 - 1662) contends that Cleopatra's classically beautiful profile changed world history: "Cleopatra's nose, had it been shorter, the whole face of the world would have been changed."

The actual historical record is, unfortunately, unreliable. The description that strikes me as most honest comes from Plutarch (c. 46 – 120 AD), a Greek historian. In his “Life of Antony (XXVII),” he writes: “her beauty, as we are told, was in itself not altogether incomparable, nor such as to strike those who saw her." Rather, her aphrodisiac was wit and charm, and "sweetness in the tones of her voice … like an instrument of many strings."

So from Plutarch’s account, Cleopatra was no Helen of Troy, "the face that launched a thousand ships". (I’d still wager she had alluring, bedroom eyes.)  But she could sweet talk you into anything. One moment you’re discussing affairs of state and, faster than you say can Egyptian eyeliner, you’ve been bedded and married. Woulda made a great cougar. Again, just ask Julius Caesar or Mark Antony.

By the way, rumor has it that Angelina Jolie is slated to play Cleopatra in an upcoming film adapted from Schiff's biography. Until then, I’ll maintain that totally hot babe HBO actress in the imagination of my mind’s eye. ;=)