I have not been writing for some time about the Iraq War not because I have changed my mind - as readers of this blog know, I was a supporter from the outset for geopolitical/pro-democracy reasons - but because I am a chicken. Not a chickenhawk as some members of the quondam left have characterized me - but a plain, ordinary chicken that does not like to be attacked. So I have laid low. The situation was too sad.
I am ashamed of myself for my silence. I apologize especially for my absence to my friends Omar and Mohammed, whose personal investment in this war is far greater than mine for obvious reasons.
But I am back, inspired by a post today by Michael Barone who was himself inspired by a New York Times article by sometime war critics Michael O’Hanlon and Kenneth Pollack.
O’Hanlon and Pollack think that the surge may actually be succeeding. That they wrote this in the NYT unfortunately gives them credence (except perhaps to the paper’s publisher and to numerous of its writers like Frank Rich who have staked their reputations on failure.) I say unfortunately because the NYT should not have the power that it still does, something the Bushies essentially ceded to them even though the paper was in disrepute, its editor fired, etc. Bush and Co. never grasped the critical role of the media in asymmetrical war, a misapprehension that is stunning given that, when you think about it, victory almost entirely depends on perception.
But back to the Times and the mystery of why they published this article, which could start even some extreme troglodytes reconsidering their positions (a few, anyway). There are several possible explanations - perhaps they think a Democratic victory in ‘08 is already a done deal (though I doubt they are that naive) or perhaps they were only looking for the illusory balance of opinion. But it is also possible that deep down they worry more than they let on about the preservation of the Enlightenment, because, make no mistake about it, that is what this battle is all about.
Now you would think the quondam left (yes, I’m in love with that adjective) would be more concerned about this than anyone, considering the unremitting misogyny and homophobia of our adversaries. But for reasons almost too depressing to detail here, they prefer to believe that reasoning with Islamism will yield a preferred result. I have written before, but it bears repeating, that this view depends on two essentially racist assumptions - one, that our adversaries are merely “wogs” and therefore ultimately cannot constitute a genuine threat or, two, that they do no really believe the preachments of their religion. It’s just a “strategy” of some sort to get a better bargaining position. (Hello, Daniel Pearl). They can’t be serious.
Of course they are and they have been since the Eighth Century. So I am back now, shedding my chicken feathers, temporarily at least. What we are doing does have a reason. We are on the right side.
I am on the Bainbridge Island Ferry, making my way into Seattle from Bainbridge. It’s eight a. m. and I was told I would be on the ferry “with all the lawyers.” But looking round, there don’t seem to be a lot of barristers on board - or they’re all traveling incognito. I’m headed for a law office myself and I appear to be the only guy in a jacket on the vessel, although I’m not wearing a tie. (Wearing a tie is kind of like playing dress-up to me, having spent most of my life in LA. I have a closet full of outdated Armanis.) The fashion statement hereabouts is obviously made by the proper gear from North Face, REI and Patagonia, et al. Nothing wrong with that - especially if you’re thinking longevity. But the price of this sportif fashion isn’t a lot less than the Versaces, etc. of the East Coast and Europe. It’s just Grunge Chic.
I will never forget when I first saw Wild Strawberries at the age of sixteen. It changed my life because from that day on I wanted to work in the movies. Little did I know that the kind of movies Bergman made would be inaccessible to me just not because of the obvious insufficient talent on my part, but because the American film industry would not allow for Bergman-style film making, only for Woody Allen parodies.
Please put your favorite Bergman film here. I’m not sure of mine, but I will put Scenes from a Marriage for now.
Ingmar Bergman, we salute you. This is the first of many obits.
UPDATE: From the NYT obit - “Critics called Mr. Bergman one of the directors - the others being Federico Fellini and Akira Kurosawa - who dominated the world of serious film making in the second half of the 20th century.”
That’s my triumvirate as well.
I noticed that several commenters took umbrage the other day when I expressed “sympathy” for National Health Insurance. I chose the word “sympathy” carefully - well, twenty seconds worth - to indicate that I am unclear how such a thing would be done, though I am sympathetic toward it.
The root of that sympathy is that I believe the right to health, like the right to education, is a social good, even necessity. It is basic to making “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness” possible.
I am privileged with a fairly decent health plan from the Writers Guild that will accompany me (and my family) for the rest of my life because of years of semi-indentured servitude to arbitrary movie producers. It almost makes that experience worth it (add smiley here) because to feel relaxed about your health care is truly something positive. I would wish it for all.
But how to get there is another matter. I admit - it’s dicey. But frankly, I don’t care if the solution is public or private insurance, a combination thereof or something hitherto unkown. I only care that it works. But you know me - the great supporter of Chairman Deng Tsaio Peng. All together now, the words of the Great Chairman: “I don’t care if a cat is black or white, only if it catches mice.”
I have a column on Pajamas this morning on what I think is a legitimate threat to free speech on the Internet, coming in the back door. I also issue a challenge to Arianna Huffington.
I am embarrassed to think back now on the days when I thought Condi Rice was presidential material. For those of you who weren’t reading me then or don’t remember, yes, I did a fair amount of cheerleading for Ms. Rice on this blog.
Shame on me for that and shame on her for continuing to kowtow to the religious-fascist-misogynist-homophobes who rule Saudi Arabia. How repellent is the thought of a modern American female Secretary of State offering twenty billion dollars in weapons to a regime that doesn’t even allow women to drive. Whatever happened to the idea of a democratic Middle East? Down the tubes in the name of the phoniest realpolitik imaginable, the same old same old, but this time utilizing the excuse of standing up to Iran.
How about standing up to Iran ourselves? How about having some ideals? You might as well, because not having ideals doesn’t seem to get you anywhere.
Oh, well, she was great dream while she lasted.
A post on Politico reminded me of why I find John Edwards one of the most shallow politicians of our era. And not just because of the hair. Or even the 28,000 square foot house when he yammers on about the two Americas.
My problem is that it’s “all about him.” Sure, politicians are narcissistic by nature, but Edwards takes it to a special level. Edwards’ assertion on the Politico video that “They want to shut me up” is a particular illustration of that.
This stuff’s not an accident. Nobody in this room should think this is an accident. You know, I’m out there speaking up for universal healthcare, ending this war in Iraq, speaking up for the poor. They want to shut me up. That’s what this is about. “Let’s distract from people who don’t have health care coverage. Let’s distract from people who can’t feed their children…. Let’s talk about this silly frivolous nothing stuff so that America won’t pay attention.”
They will never silence me. Never.
If we don’t stand up to these people, if we don’t fight em, if we don’t beat them, they’re going to continue to control this country. Thye’re going to control the media. They’re going to control what’s being said. They do not want to hear us talking about health care for everybody.
Well, scratch that. I want to shut him up too - but not because of his ideas (I’m actually sympathetic to national health care), but because he’s so boring and pompous and self-involved. The idea that they - whoever they are - would want to “shut him up” is ludicrous when much of what he says is parroted to one degree or another by all the Democratic candidates.
Of course, in special Edwards’ case there’s some kind of “conspiracy” to prevent this getting out. Someone is taking over the media or some such twaddle.
If Edwards believes this stuff, he’s delusional. More likely he’s just a huckster.
It’s no news to those of us in the wired world that vacation as we knew it is a thing of the past. Between broadband, wireless, blackberries, iPhone, etc., etc. there is no escape.
I am up here in Bainbridge Island where Sheryl and I have bought some property in the woods, but I might as well be on the corner of Hollywood & Highland with a cellphone in my ear, for all I have been able to get away. Only during a few spare moments on a newly-acquired mountain bike [Watch out, boy. -ed.] am I ever fully away. Mountain biking is rather like skiing in that the process is hold-on-for-dear life attention getting. Sort of like Zen one-pointedness on steroids. Of course, for those of us of a certain age, mountain biking is no all-day activity - more like forty-five minutes. Otherwise we’d be in cardiac arrest. Still, I’m having fun in my own workaholic way.
Speaking of which, I think others may have observed that since we live in such a virtual world, geography has collapsed. We are only in one spot in the temporal sense. In the virtual sense, we are everywhere. I don’t feel particularly more away on Bainbridge Island than I do in the Hollywood Hills. Of course, Bainbridge is part of the metro area of Wired Seattle. The ferry that takes you into town has its own distinctly un-free WiFi and the place is lousy with tech wizards. So what do you expect? This weekend we are planning a jaunt to the wild and wooly lands of Olympic National Park. But even there, I imagine, the rays will be zapping me.
Perhaps Barack Obama thinks he’s cool… or maybe a vote-getter…. by opening his mouth about talking without pre-condition to Castro, Ahmadinejad, etc. And maybe he is - the latter anyway. He obviously knows how to collect donations. But his naivety is extraordinary. At least I hope it’s naivety and not something worse. Because the thought of the first African-American President sitting down to polite public conversation with this century’s most prominent Holocaust-denier raises a large number of hackles on the neck of this onetime civil rights worker - a very large number. [Calm down, fella, you're getting angry.-ed. No kidding.]
But beyond the creepy racial overtones, one wonders if Obama knows anything about what is really going on. Does he know the state of negotiations with any of these nations? Did he know the state of play with Libya when Qaddafi recently walked back on nuclear weapons? I rather doubt it, because as most grownups realize, negotiations with crazy fascist dictators are usually best conducted in private. Public negotiations are at best a grandstand play.
And that is what Obama is doing - playing to the grandstand. I’m scared of someone who thinks that way in the presidency in a way that Hillary could never scare me.
If you haven’t it yet, truck on over to Pajamas for a look at Aaron Hanscom’s piece on vouchers and charter schools. Hanscom, who takes on John “Hair” Edwards, knows whereof he speaks. He taught for six years in Watts - something Edwards wouldn’t be caught dead doing.
