Tuesday, March 3, 2015

“…where politics is only for the tough, and the crude, and the calloused”

From Jack Danforth’s eulogy for Tom Schweich, who committed suicide:
…Since Thursday some good people have said, ‘Well, that’s just politics, and Tom should’ve been less sensitive, he should’ve been tougher, he should’ve been able to take it’. Well, that is accepting politics in its present state. And that we cannot do. It amounts to blaming the victim. And it creates a new normal, where politics is only for the tough, and the crude, and the calloused.
I’ll post the background from Rachel Maddow when it’s available, but here’s a relevant post.

UPDATE: The Rachel Maddow video:

I disagree with Danforth on one key point.* The problem isn’t a politics of the hardened or the tough. It’s a politics, as I’ve suggested, of those traumatized by an abusive childhood or a traumatic culture to the point that they identify with victimizers (the “strong”) and condemn, run from, and attack victims (the “weak”). We contribute to this ideology by perpetuating the myth that it’s a culture of toughness and strength. It’s not. It’s a sad, compulsive culture of bullying with fear at its heart – not tough but raw and scarred.

* In this context, that is. I’m certain I disagree with him on a vast number of unrelated points.

March on Human Rights Watch in New York City on Thursday, part of day of action in solidarity with Venezuela

This Thursday, March 5, will be a national day of action in the US in solidarity with Venezuela, with events to be held in cities across the country. I won’t be able to attend any of the scheduled events, which is regrettable (well, for some – those focused on “remembering Hugo Chávez” don’t interest me especially). But one in particular caught my eye:
New York City, NY
Thursday, March 5
5th Avenue between 33rd and 34th Street
4:00 p.m.
March: “Human Rights Watch, Weapon of the U.S. State Department”
A rally in support of human rights protesting a major human rights organization might initially seem bizarre. But HRW has been somewhat suspect when it comes to humanitarian imperialism for some time. The information documented in this letter from last July leaves little doubt as to the organization’s ties to the Obama administration and US intelligence agencies. These ties substantially compromise HRW’s mission and undermine its credibility.

Saturday, February 28, 2015

The many ways to lose your voice

Ophelia posted earlier today about Deeyah Khan’s article, “Women’s Voices Must Not Be Silenced.” It struck me because it touched on what I’ve been thinking about in recent weeks, especially since learning about the heartrending plight of Tamil writer Perumal Marugan last month. Khan argues:
We need to be able to guarantee the safety of all artists and activists for human rights, so that it no longer takes extraordinary courage to call for a better world – so that every person with the ability to imagine peace, equality, progress and justice can express their dreams and hopes without fear.
We tend to focus on the most desperate cases, on the bravest people who already write and continue writing in the face of threats, violence, and repression. My culture even tends to romanticize so-called artistic suffering, to the point that personal pain and political repression are thought to be the basis for and even a requirement of great art. But even the most courageous artists defending free expression don’t want to be martyrs. They want to live in a world in which there are no martyrs to free expression and in which voices aren’t lost. And there are so many ways to lose them.

If you’re raised to believe you have nothing to say, or nothing anyone wants to hear, your voice can be lost. If you’re ignored, your voice can be lost. If you’re abused or taught to fear and hide from the world, your voice can be lost. If you’re not taught how to read or to express yourself, your voice can be lost. If you’re hungry or malnourished, your voice can be lost. If you’re led to believe that writing isn’t something people like you should do – because you’re a boy, because you’re a girl, because you’re black, because you’re poor – your voice can be lost. If you’re indoctrinated, punished for independent or “sinful” thought, and sheltered from new ideas, your voice can be lost. If you’re bullied and terrorized at school, your voice can be lost. If you’re traumatized as a child by war or mass violence, your voice can be lost. If you’re forced to spend your childhood working on a farm or in a factory or taking care of others, your voice can be lost. If no one in your world understands or believes in you, your voice can be lost. If you have nowhere to share your ideas, your voice can be lost.

If higher education isn’t affordable, your voice can be lost. If every day is a struggle just to survive or to care for your family, your voice can be lost. If you have to work long hours to support yourself or your family, your voice can be lost. If you’re homeless, your voice can be lost. If you’re unemployed and lose hope, your voice can be lost. If you’re terrorized and abused by your partner, your voice can be lost. If you don’t have access to books or research materials, your voice can be lost. If you have to migrate and never have secure legal status, your voice can be lost. If you’re a refugee, your voice can be lost. If you become sick and don’t have access to health care, your voice can be lost. If you have a disability your society can’t or won’t remedy or accommodate, your voice can be lost.

If your country’s government censors or destroys your work, your voice can be lost. If they threaten you or your family, your voice can be lost. If they spy on you, your voice can be lost. If they criminalize writing about the subjects you care about, your voice can be lost. If they block your access to the internet and to communities you could join, your voice can be lost. If they bar you from studying, your voice can be lost. If they secretly destroy your career, your voice can be lost. If they alienate you from colleagues and friends, your voice can be lost. If they blackmail you, your voice can be lost. If they blacklist you, your voice can be lost. If they make you think you’re hated, harmful, or irrelevant, your voice can be lost. If you’re denied reproductive rights, your voice can be lost. If they conscript you into the military, your voice can be lost. If they convince you that it’s futile to continue writing since your work will never be published or have an audience, your voice can be lost. If they (or a corporation) launch an underground campaign to smear and discredit you, your voice can be lost. If they imprison you, your voice can be lost. If they call you insane, if they institutionalize and forcibly drug you, your voice can be lost. If they beat or torture you, your voice can be lost. If your country is invaded and thrown into chaos, your voice can be lost.

If your society ignores, dismisses, or mocks you or your work because you’re a woman, or black, or gay, or undocumented,…, your voice can be lost. If you’re harassed or threatened or stalked online, your voice can be lost. If you’re raped, your voice can be lost. If your family threatens you, your voice can be lost. If they claim you’ve dishonored them, your voice can be lost. If they force you into marriage, your voice can be lost. If your community denies you the right to go out alone, to socialize, to travel, to experience life, your voice can be lost. If fanatics threaten you or your family, your voice can be lost. If they intimidate media outlets so they won’t publish your words, your voice can be lost. If they create a climate of fear by attacking and killing writers and artists, your voice can be lost. If they create a climate of fear by attacking and killing black people, immigrants, Jews, Muslims,…, your voice can be lost. If they menacingly protest the presentation of your work, your voice can be lost. If they put a bounty on your head, your voice can be lost. If they convince you that things are only going to get worse for writers, your voice can be lost. If they force you into exile, your voice can be lost.

We should admire the bravery of people like Raif Badawi and his colleagues, like Avijit Roy and Rafida Ahmed Banna, like the staff at Charlie Hebdo, like the women listed by Deeyah Khan. We should honor those martyred for their courage. But we should understand that the struggle to realize the right of free expression involves so much more than these desperate battles, and so much more than the strength and resilience of individual writers. It involves the long struggle for a world that not only does away with the many forces that silence people but actively cultivates free expression. I think this also means greater empathy; it means not demanding some narrow model of heroism from writers.

I’ll leave you with Crystal Valentine, reciting her poem on Melissa Harris-Perry’s show this morning:

Freethought blogger Avijit Roy hacked to death on the street in Bangladesh

“All over the world, the nonreligious are growing in number faster than ever before. Nonbelievers are not only valuable contributors to society; they also constitute a large fraction of the world’s intellectual and academic community. Whether it is a courageous sixteen-year-old from Rhode Island or a group of individualistic bloggers on the other side of the world, we should never belittle the endeavors of bold human beings to create rational, secular, and freethinking communities.” – Avijit Roy and Trisha Ahmed, “Freethought Under Attack in Bangladesh,” 2013
Humanist, secular, atheist writer Avijit Roy and his wife, writer Rafida Ahmed Banna, were attacked with cleavers on the street this week, presumably by Islamists, after emerging from a book fair. She suffered serious injuries, and he later died.

The BBC reports on the attack and the situation in Bangladesh:

Taslima Nasreen, a freethought blogger in exile from the country, has posted some pictures of the moments after the horrific attack, which I link to because I think they’re important, if terrible, to see.

The Center for Inquiry has published a statement on their colleague’s murder, where they also make available Roy’s article in the upcoming issue of Free Inquiry:
We at the Center for Inquiry are shocked and heartbroken by the brutal murder of our friend Dr. Avijit Roy in Bangladesh, it is speculated at the hands of Islamic militants. Dr. Roy was a true ally, a courageous and eloquent defender of reason, science, and free expression, in a country where those values have been under heavy attack….
His daughter Trisha Ahmed has written on Facebook:
My dad was a prominent Bengali writer, most famous for his books about science and atheism. He and my mom went to Bangladesh last week to publicize his books at Bangladesh’s national book fair. 15 hours ago, Islamic fundamentalists stabbed my dad to death. My mom was severely wounded from the attack and is still in the hospital. His death is headline news in Bangladesh.

The reason I’m sharing this is less for me and more for my dad. He was a firm believer in voicing your opinion to better the world.
He and my mom started dating when I was six years old. In the twelve years that followed, he became my friend, my hero, my most trusted confidante, my dance partner (even though we’re both terrible dancers), and my father. Not once did he tell me to simmer down or be more polite; he taught me to be informed, bold, and unafraid.

To say that I’m furious or heartbroken would be an understatement. But as fucked up as the world is, there’s never a reason to stop fighting to make it better. I’ll carry the lessons he taught me and the love he gave me forever. I love you so much, Dad. Thank you for every single thing

What would help me the most right now is if everyone (even people I’ve never met) could share his story. His story should be heard in the US because Bangladesh is powerless; it’s corrupt, there is no law and order, and I highly doubt that any justice will come to the murderers. I want his story to be on US headline news, not only Bangladesh’s. If you could just do all you can to spread word of what’s happened, I would appreciate it so so much. Inform your schools, your communities, write all that you can. Please don’t allow my dad to die in vain.

Please use your influence to help bring some sort of justice to the atrocious acts that have been committed against my parents.


Thursday, February 26, 2015

Would you eat them?

A hypothetical* question for carnists: Were hybrid dogpigs or catcows to be created, would you eat them? Why or why not?

* And rhetorical, both because I’m closing comments and because I hope people give some thought to their reasons.

Citizenfour and Online Covert Action

Of course, everyone should see Citizenfour:

Looking at the summary of disclosures since 2013, I was reminded (?) about the revelations at the Intercept a year ago about the GCHQ unit JTRIG (Joint Threat Research Intelligence Group) and its program of “Online Covert Action.”

Glenn Greenwald wrote at the time:
Among the core self-identified purposes of JTRIG are two tactics: (1) to inject all sorts of false material onto the internet in order to destroy the reputation of its targets; and (2) to use social sciences and other techniques to manipulate online discourse and activism to generate outcomes it considers desirable. To see how extremist these programs are, just consider the tactics they boast of using to achieve those ends: “false flag operations” (posting material to the internet and falsely attributing it to someone else), fake victim blog posts (pretending to be a victim of the individual whose reputation they want to destroy), and posting “negative information” on various forums.

…The broader point is that, far beyond hacktivists, these surveillance agencies have vested themselves with the power to deliberately ruin people’s reputations and disrupt their online political activity even though they’ve been charged with no crimes, and even though their actions have no conceivable connection to terrorism or even national security threats.

…Whatever else is true, no government should be able to engage in these tactics: what justification is there for having government agencies target people – who have been charged with no crime – for reputation-destruction, infiltrate online political communities, and develop techniques for manipulating online discourse? But to allow those actions with no public knowledge or accountability is particularly unjustifiable.
It seems that for some reason this information didn’t fully register with me at the time. Naturally, it’s of great interest to me. Two observations:

First, corporations do this, too.

Second, seeing the documents (like the set of slides Greenwald links to – “The Art of Deception: Training for Online Covert Operations”) evokes a mixture of rage and…sadness. Someone put this presentation together, and this is actual work people do. Like the employees of the repressive secret services of East Germany or Iran, they have, for whatever reason, chosen to devote years if not their lives to this. In some cases, people have dedicated their professional knowledge and understanding of psychology and sociology not to serving real needs, but to manipulating, deceiving, and destroying people in the service of the state. This is their legacy. It’s pathetic.

Venezuela: “Will they forget that they ever refused to lend a hand?”

Michael Albert has a new piece, “Whispering Venezuela?”, which tries to engage some sectors of the Left in an examination of the causes of their relative silence surrounding the ongoing efforts by the US government, in league with the Venezuelan Right, to destabilize and foment a coup against the country’s democratically elected government. Albert wonders about the reasons for this inaction in the face of a serious threat:
Neighborhoods organized, albeit with great difficulty, into councils, and councils into larger communes. Isn't this what an anti authoritarian, non violent, participation-advocating left wants?

Grass roots missions to solve social problems? Expanded education and health care? Democracy defended and plebiscites repeatedly taken and enacted? Do these and many other positive trends mean the Bolivarian project is flawless? Of course not. Do they mean that concern and criticism are unwarranted? Of course not. Do they mean the Bolivarian effort will succeed without doubt? Of course not. But the alternative to being a mindless sycophantic booster need not and should not be being silent or derogatory.

And in any case, why should Venezuela's project being less than perfect deter people from feeling outrage at the right wing and corporate opposition in Venezuela and at U.S. machinations seeking Venezuela's collapse? Why should the Venezuelan project being less than perfect prevent support for the best of Venezuela's efforts as well as constructive criticism of whatever one finds wanting?*

I think no serious progressive person would say the Venezuelan project being less perfect than some abstract textbook conception ought to terminate our support for it. Ought to silence our voices for it. Yet Venezuela being less than abstractly perfect often has had just that effect. Or so it seems to me. [emphasis added]
The article concludes sadly:
It is not the place of revolutionaries to watch world historic endeavors from the sidelines, either castigating aggressively or whispering unobtrusively due to thinking those endeavors aren't perfect, include errors, don't yet evidence complete and absolute freedom. Yes, someone looking on from the side, that way may, when the dust clears, in the socially worst case, be able to intone over the grave of the effort they rejected, ‘see, I told you so…I got it right. They failed’. What a sad kind of self affirmation that would be. And I have to wonder, in a vastly more preferable scenario wherein the rejected project persists and proceeds, will those same critics say, down the road, ‘I was horribly wrong’, or will they forget that they ever refused to lend a hand?
It’s quite perplexing to me that so many seem not to realize that in remaining silent on the matter they’re not only taking an extreme position on the Venezuelan government but in effect allying themselves with the US government and corporations and their view that they have the right to intervene in the democratic processes of Latin American countries. They’re in effect denying these countries’ claims to collective self-governance. They’re in effect choosing the alternative: a vicious neoliberal regime serving US-corporate interests. I can’t imagine that’s what anyone on the Left consciously wants, but it’s the scenario that history has well shown is made more likely by a policy of tacit abandonment.

A coup in Venezuela would have catastrophic consequences for democracy, for equality, for social justice and liberation (including secular) movements, for health, education, and other human rights, not just in Venezuela but throughout the region. People would die. They would be violently oppressed. Their life-chances would be sharply circumscribed. The power of Northern governments and corporations would be vastly increased, and their covert agencies more confident than ever in their ability to override democracy. If you make this more likely through your silence or inaction, you have no right to speak critically about Iran in 1953 or Chile in 1973.

* Here’s a somewhat more critical piece on the government’s policies. And here’s a more general post by me about leftwing movements and governments in Latin America.

Wednesday, February 25, 2015

I am (still) Charlie: anti-racist

In January and early this month, I wrote here and elsewhere about the murders at the office of Charlie Hebdo in Paris and the public reactions to this violence:
“Tragedy at Charlie Hebdo

“Before the massacre”

“Theocrats of all stripes”

“Interview with Charlie Hebdo cartoonist Luz”

“I wasn’t consulted about that faith compromise, and won’t respect it.”

“Global dog-whistle politics and words we should do without”
I particularly challenged a tendency among some on the Left to rush to accept claims about the racism of CH, to refuse the identification with the victims and survivors of the massacre implied in “Je suis Charlie,” and, when presented with evidence that their initial beliefs were mistaken, either to engage in mental gymnastics to try to uphold those claims in some form or to go silent and let the claims stand:
“A bad epistemic approach is anti-humanist, unwise, and unkind”

“Guest post: The problem with ‘Je ne suis pas Charlie’”

“Guest post: The community of the potentially mockable”

“Preparing the ground for future crimes”
I noted at the time that while I thought this approach was unfair, disrespectful, and harmful, in most cases I believed the motives behind it were good. Some on the Left, sadly, just aren’t strong supporters of free expression and the right to blaspheme, and so had little compunction about suggesting that the people at CH were irresponsible or callous. But many others, cognizant of the reality of anti-Muslim bigotry and violence in Europe, (rightly) felt responsible to decry this racism and violence at the same time as they stood for free expression and the right to blaspheme, and (wrongly) saw calling out CH’s alleged racism in these terms.

So my posts at the time were directed at the people on the Left – arguing that for too many the fear of contributing to racism was leading to a failure to follow sound procedures for reaching and defending conclusions. I suspected at the time that some on the Right would take advantage of this episode, using it as an opportune moment to proclaim that (large segments of) the Left defend Islamism or that the vast majority of leftwing claims of racism are unfounded. And they have. (So be it – I’m not interested in their cynical and disingenuous games.) I expected that many would use the defense of CH to advance a racist agenda, dishonestly joining CH to their hateful movement. And they’ve done this as well.

So the Right have fulfilled my low expectations. But I want here to reiterate that my own support of and identification with the staff at Charlie Hebdo was based on a shared commitment not only to defending free expression and blasphemy but to opposing racism. This doesn’t mean I think they’ve been immaculately correct in every possible way; neither has anyone. But they’ve seen these missions – to oppose systemic racism, to fight for social justice, to defend and demand free expression and blasphemy – as generally compatible, while recognizing that this can be complicated in practice and trying to be careful not to set back one of these goals while advancing another.

My support for CH was never just about free expression and blasphemy, but about their real and longstanding anti-racist actions. When I first put the “Je suis Charlie” logo up here in the hours after the attack, this was what I had in mind - a commitment to anti-authoritarianism, real skepticism, anti-racism, social justice, and free expression. All of it, at once.

In practice, of course, this means different things for different people in different contexts. For me, today, in this context, it means:
• bringing attention to rightwing (Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Hindu, atheist, nationalist, imperialist, racist, patriarchal, corporate, neoliberal,…) ideas, practices, and policies in those areas about which I have some knowledge;

• refusing to focus almost entirely on one form of rightwing ideology;

• analyzing the cultural, political, and economic roots of rightwing movements;

• examining the shared bases and common core of all forms of rightwing thought (including, importantly, speciesism);

• promoting liberation and social justice struggles;

• challenging faith and deference toward faith in general and in liberation movements specifically, and encouraging good epistemic practices;

• supporting blasphemy that isn’t hateful, demeaning, or aligned with rightwing projects;

• trying as best I can to do all of this in a spirit of humility, compassion, and fairness

Refugee citizens in a camp city

Prompted by a post at the anthropology blog Savage Minds announcing the relaunch of Allegra Lab, I looked into it and quickly decided to add it to my feeds. Here’s how they describe the site’s purpose:
‘Allegra Lab: Anthropology, Law, Art & World’ (allegralaboratory.net) is a collective of academics, an association and an online experiment founded in 2013. It explores creative ways to fill the ‘dead space’ that exists between traditional modes of academic publication and ongoing scholarly and societal debates. Allegra Lab discusses issues related to anthropology, law, art and beyond, and it is run by a diligent editorial team of professional scholars.
Today they feature a great article by law and human rights scholar Geraldine Renaudiere, “When Camps become Home: Legal Implications of the Long-Term Encampment in Zaatari.” The number of Syrian refugees in the Jordanian camp in what the UNHCR calls a “protracted refugee situation” is large: Zaatari is, according to Renaudiere, “the world’s second-largest refugee camp and the fourth largest city in Jordan.”

It’s a quick and worthwhile read.* From the conclusion:
Indubitably, the worrying situation taking place in Zaatari reflects the shortcomings and the weaknesses of an International protection system which, however well-intentioned, is no longer adapted to the nature of conflicts in the current international environment. It particularly challenges two fundamental assumptions which somehow shaped the refugee protection regime: first, contrary to preconceived ideas, refugees should not be reduced to vulnerable people, unable to assume responsibility or to take their fate into their own hands. On the contrary, despite instability and lack of autonomy, the present example have shown that people progressively re-create social bonds and re-establish a semblance of society thanks to solidarity, structure mechanisms and collective organization.

Secondly, refugees’ protection cannot be limited to temporary response or short-term initiatives. As clearly demonstrated by the case of Zaatari, beyond the emergency stage, a stronger protection framework is needed, especially through human rights standards and effective enforcement mechanisms. This cannot be reached however without external support and assistance from both international organizations and host countries. While the former should better adapt structures of the camp over time, optimize the social organization and progressively grant refugees greater autonomy, host countries’ stronger involvement and support is not only welcomed but will soon become a matter of necessity. In fact, considering its geographical expansion and its population growth, the camp of Zaatari could progressively reach the borders of surrounding Jordan towns.
* Could have used a bit more proofreading/editing – the word “the” is frequently missing, for example.

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

The US as authoritarian father

The latest ginned-up controversy about whether the US president “loves America” is noteworthy not for the specific content of the so-called debate over the nature of (Obama’s) patriotism – that debate is absurd - but for what it reveals about US political culture.

In the terms of this discussion, the nation isn’t seen as a political community continually created to serve real needs by participating citizens on the basis of reasoned deliberation and evidence. It’s a distant father, to be feared, loved, and idealized, and to whom the only appropriate attitude is one of unquestioning respect, duty, and a willingness to be sacrificed. As I’ve suggested in connection with a related matter, these attitudes, largely beneath conscious recognition, contribute to the support of violence perpetrated by the father-state and his declared representatives against those perceived as weak, ungrateful, disloyal, or threatening.

More democratic models of citizenship and rebellion, of course, are often imperfect and tend to suffer from the very same unconscious distortions and biases, leaving those who espouse them liable to join in the displays of deference toward the father-state and the denigration of those concerns associated with “feminine” care and nurturing. My point here is fourfold: First, we should openly recognize how far these notions diverge from democratic ideals of equality and participation. Second, we should appreciate that many of these political ideas have deep roots in an authoritarian-abusive culture of parenting and largely remain below the conscious surface; this culture needs to be exposed and addressed. Third, given these first two points, we should explicitly oppose any debate in these terms, not just because the attacks are silly partisan hackery and often thinly disguised racism, which they are, but because debate under these premises is woefully unsuited to a democratic political community. Fourth, using this recognition, we should work on developing inclusive models of citizenship and political participation that aren’t fettered by these familial patterns.

Sunday, February 22, 2015


Ben Affleck was a guest on the Daily Show a little while ago promoting some film or other. In the course of the discussion, he mentioned that now both he and Jon Stewart had made films about Iran. I’ve been plain about my opinion of Affleck’s dreadful Argo, which Peter Van Buren has recently called “honorary war porn,” and its undeserved Oscar. It shouldn’t be likened to Rosewater in any sense other than that they both concern Iran. (And not even in that sense, really, since Argo isn’t meaningfully about Iran at all, but uses Iran and its people as a backdrop for the struggles and heroics of innocent USians and their swashbuckling covert agents.)

Rosewater is a very different sort of film, both from Argo and from most political films about the Middle East. It actually treats its Iranian characters as human beings, with their own personal and national histories.

This compassionate attitude extends even to the “interrogators” of the nightmarish Evin Prison, like the man assigned to break journalist Maziar Bahari. In this sense, it reminded me somewhat of the fiction film The Lives of Others:

The character Georg Dreyman’s bitter remark to former minister Bruno Hempf after the fall of the GDR – “To think that people like you ruled a country” – could equally describe the pathetic bureaucrats of Iranian repression and their terrible work.

At the same time, unlike Argo and its ilk, which portray Iranians as driven by religious fanaticism, irrational paranoia, and instinctive hatred, Rosewater situates their motives within the real historical context of violent US and UK interference in the country and the region. And it does so without making the film “about” US crimes past or present - it keeps its focus on Iranian experiences.*

My biggest criticisms would be, first, that I wish the film had featured more of Bahari’s imagined conversations with his father and sister, which I found among the most interesting segments, especially as they related to (and to some extent subverted) notions of strength and masculinity. (Perhaps there’s more in Bahari’s book.) Second, the depiction of the democratic movements, while it did capture the energy and optimism of the 2009 election protests, didn’t show the activists and their goals in enough intellectual depth. This leaves the movements vulnerable to being set by British and North American audiences in a self-serving narrative - seen in simplistic terms as reflecting a desire for “Western” consumerist freedom.

* We shouldn’t, of course, lose sight of the fact that the US, UK, and other powerful states haven’t slackened in their efforts to overthrow democratically elected governments and install friendly dictatorial regimes, using slightly more sophisticated versions of the same techniques they employed in Iran in 1953.

Thursday, February 19, 2015

“It's a Man’s Man’s Man’s World”

I HATE that fucking song. HATE. It’s featured, fully into this century, in virtually every single season of singing competitions. And to make matters worse, it’s often chosen by women. Imagine if it were about how “this is a white man’s world.” Can we send it back to 1966?

Wednesday, February 18, 2015

The best television I watched in 2014

This will be a short one.

For news and commentary, I preferred some shows in the MSNBC line-up: All In with Chris Hayes, The Rachel Maddow Show, and Melissa Harris-Perry (the most diverse of the Sunday shows in 2014 for the second year in a row). On PBS, Bill Moyers remained consistently good. (They’re liberals, but I’m not expecting anarchist television any time soon...) And for comedic political commentary, John Oliver’s weekly show has been a superb addition.

(That clip is actually from this week, but it’s important enough to mention here – I discussed this very issue here last year.)

I continue to enjoy Scandal, Revenge, and Castle on ABC, but there are two other lesser-known shows that captured my interest last year. First, Manhattan on WGN America:

I love the music and look forward to the second season. I can’t do that with the other interesting drama series on a small channel, We TV’s The Divide,

because they cancelled it. Very unhappy about that.

The best art I saw in 2014

We’re now well into February, but I still have a couple of categories to go in my 2014 favorites series.

Chilean artist Francisco Tapia’s work remains my favorite individual piece of 2014. The two others are museum exhibits.

The first is almost a punchline – “You know you’re in Maine when…” “…you’re viewing ‘Andrew Wyeth: The Linda L. Bean Collection’ at the Ogunquit Museum of American Art.” It doesn’t get much Mainer than that, unless maybe you’re there snacking on blueberries with Stephen King and a lobster named Bog. A beautiful, wistful exhibit in a gallery overlooking the sea.

The small museum is in a pretty, peaceful location, and I enjoyed their permanent collection quite a bit. My favorite piece was a 1979 sculpture, “The Tyrant,” by Clark Fitz-Gerald. Unfortunately, and inexplicably, they didn’t have any images of it in the gift shop and I can’t find a decent picture online.

The second was the “Degenerate Art: The Attack on Modern Art in Nazi Germany, 1937” show at the Neue Galerie in New York. The exhibit, so popular they had to extend its run, was extremely well done. It presented the history clearly and set the works (present and missing) in their historical context. One painting I was compelled to return to and ultimately had to tear myself away from was Lasar Segall’s stunning “The Eternal Wanderers”:


I read some reviews of the exhibit later and one concern some reviewers expressed, and which had crossed my mind at the time, was that because the show presented some art that was favored by the Nazis alongside the works they hated, it could lead to the message that art can or should be judged in these terms - if fascists liked it, it’s not good art, and vice versa. It’s a valid concern. The exhibit did show how the Nazis often (mis)interpreted art not on the basis of its political content or the artist’s “race” or politics but on its formal qualities. So an artist doing religious pieces in an expressionistic style, for example, could be persecuted for producing grotesque images or for denigrating or mocking religion, even if he was apolitical (or sympathetic to fascism) and even if he saw his work not as a criticism but as a celebration. The Nazis, unwittingly, were “right” in the sense that many of these works promoted a dangerously humanistic attitude; but that wasn’t the basis for their fearful rejection of these modernists. So it’s a complicated matter, and they probably could have done a better job in addressing it. Overall, though, a tremendous exhibit.

In related news, the Neue Galerie will host “Gustav Klimt and Adele Bloch-Bauer: The Woman in Gold” beginning on April 2 and coinciding with the April 3 release of the movie Woman in Gold starring Helen Mirren:

(I don't know how good the film is. The trailer isn’t especially promising, and the early critical reviews are negative. On the other hand, it can’t be worse than The Monuments Men. Come to think of it, I learned of both stories through The Rape of Europa, which I would recommend quite highly.)