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Wednesday, Apr 12, 2006

This entire post by the indispensible Billmon is worth reading, but it will probably ruin your day. He makes a convincing case that it’s hardly inconceivable that America may start an unprovoked nuclear war, and not only that, few in America would bother to notice, or be too troubled by it.


What I’m suggesting here is that it is probably naive to expect the American public to react with horror, remorse or even shock to a U.S. nuclear sneak attack on Iran, even though it would be one of the most heinous war crimes imaginable, short of mass genocide. Iran has been demonized too successfully thanks in no small part to the messianic delusions of its own end-times president А for most Americans to see it as a victim of aggression, even if they were inclined to admit that the United States could ever be an aggressor. And we know a not-so-small and extremely vocal minority of Americans would be cheering all the way, and lusting for more.
More to my point, though, I think it’s possible that even something as monstrously insane as nuclear war could still be squeezed into the tiny rituals that pass for public debate in this country the game of dueling TV sound bites that trivializes and then disposes of every issue.


His last point is especially chilling—“news” is a way of wishing things into the cornfield. Is it too cyncical to view the corporate media as a massive rationalization machine designed to stupefy a population and reassure them that the unacceptable is normal? When a population wants reassurance, can we expect the media not to manufacture such a valuable commodity, one which only grows in value as the maniacs in charge of the American government grow more desperate?


One would have thought, also, that the despicable shame of Abu Ghraib would have made Americans want to rid themselves of an adminstration which has brought our national reputation to its lowest point, but instead we responded by reelecting it. So there is no degredation we won’t accept in our hubris and blind confidence that our leaders can’t really be madmen. Torture, pre-emptive unprovoked war declared for false reasons, diplomatic decietfulness: this is the legacy the Bush administration has already built for itself; why won’t it try to hit for the cycle and add nuclear war to the box score?


But anyway, never mind. There are more important things to worry about. After all the X-Men sequel is coming out soon, and Angelina had a baby.


And, via Belgravia Dispatch comes this list, quoted from report by Anthony H. Cordesman and Khalid R. Al-Rodhan of the Center for Strategic and International Studies in Washington, of all the fun things we can expect after our excellent Iranian adventure:


Х Retaliate against US forces in Iraq and Afghanistan overtly using Shahab-3 missiles armed with CBR warheads


Use proxy groups including al-Zarqawi and Sadr in Iraq to intensify the insurgency and escalate the attacks against US forces and Iraqi Security Forces


ť Turn the Shi’ite majority in Iraq against the US presence and demand US forces to leave


Attack the US homeland with suicide bombs by proxy groups or deliver CBR weapons to al-Qa’ida to use against the US


ť Use its asymmetric capabilities to attacks US interests in the region including soft targets: e.g. embassies, commercial centers, and American citizens


Attack US naval forces stationed in the Gulf with anti-ship missiles, asymmetric warfare, and mines


ť Attack Israel with missile attacks possibly with CBR warheads


Retaliate against energy targets in the Gulf and temporarily shut off the flow of oil from the Strait of Hormuz


* Stop all of its oil and gas shipments to increase the price of oil, inflict damage on the global and US economies.


Will any of this rouse us from our collective daydream, or disrupt the debut of Mission: Impossible III? Probably not.


I know it’s unfair to expect the rest of the world to shut down just because our president is threatening to start World War III, and I’m sure to expose myself as a hypocrite when I go right on commenting on other comparatively insignificant things in subsequent posts. But let the record show that on this morning, I’m pretty freaked out.


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Tuesday, Apr 11, 2006

In this post economist Tyler Cowen asks “What is the optimal lag time before deciding a work of fiction is worth reading? Few novels require urgent reading, so how about 15 years?” The spirit of this seems right to me, but I would change 15 to 150. I based my whole grad-school period on similar reasoning, studying 18th century novels that were utterly irrelevent save for their being old and arguably typical of their time period. My idea was that these novels inadvertently revealed “important” things about the shift in mind-set that the emerging capitalist economy had on emerging middle-class people who just started to read for pleasure. “Important” is in quotes, because I was ultimately unsure how important these speculative insights of mine were.


But I tend to agree that the sheer passage of time serves as the best kind of filter for what interests me, and only the things that survive in the public consciousness have relevance to understanding what characterizes that public, its desires and the nature of its pleasures.


Admittedly, this is a peculiar way to define relevance. It restricts me to what is popular and illustrative of social character rather than allow for idiosyncratic personal pleasures. Such a view rejects the notion of discovery, of finding something unchampioned and finding significance or joy in it. Lots of reasonable people would balk at the idea that you should read to figure out why other people are reading rather than to simply enjoy yourself.


In order to find pleasure in unheralded fiction, you have to enjoy fiction in the abstract. And in general, I long ago ceased to enjoy reading it (another grad-school by-product). Reading for pleasure? I want to learn something when I read, generally, and be encouraged to think imaginatively and critically—old fiction permits me to do this, as it forces me to make the effort to extrapolate the consciousness of the period that produced it, make that mental leap across history and consider the varies ways in which society has changed, been ruptured, or stayed the same. Contemporary fiction just seems like lazy non-fiction.


Once I was true believer in fiction. I even majored in creative writing as an undergraduate. I thought that politics were contingent and ultimately insignificant and that artists who meddled with it demeaned themselves, ignoring the eternal verities (love, beauty, truth, etc.) while sullying their work with overt messages and oversimplified analyses. But now I’ve come to see everything as political, and fiction seems beside the point, another layer of mystification preventing one’s grasping things as they are. Reading fiction sometimes seems like an ostrich-like practice of sticking one’s head in the sand and rejecting the world around one in favor of something simplified and reassuring. (And if fiction isn’t enough, you can turn on Fox News for something more advanced.) Especially trying is self-congratulatory literary fiction; though the authors are probably well-intentioned, I always think of how important they must feel they are when I am expected to take their invented worlds and their points of view as seriously as the real world itself. It makes me understand why novels took such a turn towawrd solipsistic language play—the mass media made it impossible for them to compete with the real world, and all that was left for the novel to do was perform language in ingenious self-referential ways, to become an intricate kind of crossword puzzle.


All this has lead me to considerable confusion and cognitive dissonance. On my bookshelves I have hundreds of novels, but I have a hard time remembering why I ever felt the need to read them or what I got out of them. So like an amnesiac trying to piece together his former personality, I’m trying to learn again what the function of fiction is. I’ve already ruled out entertainment—much more entertainment can be found through other media. Films and television are much more immersive without disrupting one’s relaxed passivity, and non-fiction is more than adequate when one wants to be more actively engaged with a cultural product. With technology having extended the possibilities of research for even the most casual of writers, a non-fiction equivalent could be found for virtually any story one would wish to tell, with the true story having the advantage of drawing on all the improbabilities of historical reality to make it compelling and relevant.


I think I appreciate genre fiction now more than I have since I was in junior high, reading Michael Moorcock novels. Perhaps genre fiction serves the function of restoring predictability to an unpredictable modern reality, soothing readers who want that kind of machinelike comprehensibility out of representations of life. Fiction should perhaps be considered a species of engineering, assessed by the same criteria and operating from the same principles and the same desire for a functioning world understood through formulas. What’s best about genre fiction is the subordination of the author’s ego to the pleasure of the reader. The author doesn’t pose as some moral arbiter with some privileged Wordsworthian access to the soul of man. Really, creative writers have no particular insight into human behavior that can’t be gleaned more authoritatively elsewhere. Often, all they have are powers of observation matched with a titanic, voracious ego. Anyway, lump this in with my occasional attacks on the cant of individual creativity (creativity as a way of feeling special and isolating oneself from the people one wants to be superior to rather than a process by which social cooperation is harnessed) and originality (a consumerist myth designed to promote obsolescence).


I also think there is a relevance lag to pop music too—anything worth hearing will survive its initial popularity, and you hear the stuff as music and not as a tangible piece of the momentary zeitgeist. You get the music minus the hype and the crowd psychology. But of course, most pop music listeners don’t care about pop as music; they care about it only insofar as it resonates with the zeitgeist, and they are probably much happier with it, unburdened with the curse of feeling obligated to evaluate it aesthetically (the fruitless pursuit of cultural capital in lowbrow source material). Anyway, this leads to me getting into music years after it hits; hence, my recent discovery of Oasis (one of maybe five rock bands from the 1990s worth listening to). There’s something totally lame and self-protective about this tendency of mine, but even in the era of free music, it seems better than chasing down every newly hyped band that comes down the pipe only to find out that they sound like something you were already into 20 years ago. Better for the dust to settle, and see which acts continue to be remembered and referred to. But this raises the question of what perpetuates a band’s memory after their style becomes passe—is it label pressure and PR? celebrity notoriety? sheer popularity? the degree to which they epitimize a moment in pop? (For Oasis, all of the above.) And where do I get my sense of what has survived from an era? From combing through contemporary pop criticism looking for references to things past? From seeing what friends have in their collections? Nostalga compilations? Or just the vague inkling that’s left after a hype wave blows past, the sort of thing that will have me checking out the Arctic Monkeys and Franz Ferdinand in about 2011.


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Tuesday, Apr 11, 2006
by PopMatters Staff


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Monday, Apr 10, 2006

It might not mean much to Net nerd but this is pretty important business: Republicans defeat Net neutrality proposal.  What it means that the days of a free and open Internet are slowly drawing to a close.


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Monday, Apr 10, 2006

So the messiah-in-chief- wants to bring on the rapture? How else to understand the discussions of possible preemptive nuclear strikes against Iran, to make sure they never have the capability for preemptive nuclear strikes, because they would be evil and murderous. (Of course America’s nuclear bombs dropped on non-Christians could never be considered anything but righteous.) The nightmare of this adminstration of madmen, fools, incompetents and kleptocrats has no limits.


Anyway, Digby makes all the necessary outraged points about this in this item, and links, chillingly, to an account of Operation Northwoods in the update. That was a plan devised in the early 1960s to depose Castro by railing public opinion for a strike against his regime. This was to be accomplished by “flase flag” operations, where terrorist acts against America are instigated by America itself, operating through espionage and infiltrators into actual fledgling anti-American groups. These acts become the undeniable causes for war. (Think Gulf of Tonkin, or Reichstag fire, but even more devious and calculated.) This may seem like tinfoil-hat territory but think about it and look into the dead soulless eyes of Rumsfeld or Cheney or any of the administration stooges sent out to deliver their sermons on the Fox propaganda channel—would you put it past these people?


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