I learned recently that my father had printed out one of these posts, and my grandmother had read it, and remarked, “Someone’s trying to be funny.” When she found out it was me, and that I frequently try to be funny here on my blog, she simply replied, “Blogs are ruining the world.”

Ruining the world! It’s nice to know that my grandmother believes I’m involved in something as important as ruining the world, really warms my heart, but I can’t take credit for it. I wasn’t involved in creating violent video games, movies with ratings of “R” or better, comic books, Howard Stern, pulps, jazz, country, or rock and roll. I didn’t replace live musicians with 78’s, vaudevillians with movies and television, or telegraph messengers with telephones. I haven’t modernized or downsized or offshored anyone’s manufacturing job. I haven’t sold anyone a tranch of anyone else’s shitty mortgage, nor have I sold anything resembling an insurance bet on anyone’s tranches of other people’s shitty mortgages. I didn’t replace human-scaled towns and cities with unwalkable automobile slums, and I sure as fuck didn’t fill these streets with luxury automobiles the size of train cars, complete with cybernetic navigation and personal multimedia systems to absorb all the surplus cognition their drivers have left over from buying these asinine metal mammoths and paying almost no attention to actually piloting them.

But perhaps that’s not the part of the world she’s talking about. Perhaps she’s referring to the world of opinion journalism, a Broderian utopia in which respected public figures like Michael Gerson can take to the pages of the serious, tempered, grown-up pages of the Washington Post and opine…

American conservatism — intellectually ascendant during three decades in which relatively low taxes and a stable money supply produced the greatest accumulation of national wealth in history — is now staring into an abyss.

…without some anonymous scoundrel from a steel town responding…

Low fuel costs, improved communication technology, and the political disintegration of a competing economic sphere allowed companies to shift production overseas. Cheaper labor combined with inexpensive transport made it more profitable to build shit there even if the main consumer market remained in America. With the end of an effective labor movement and the decline of productive industry, real wages stagnated, but financial institutions, ever more central to the so-called service economy, made it increasingly easy to obtain credit. The “engine” of the American economy became the consumption of commodities produced cheaply overseas and sold domestically. The financial institutions playing the credit game conceived of a series of increasingly elaborate hoaxes to make what was at root the provision of seemingly limitless IOUs to individuals and businesses regardless of collateral assets or ability to repay seem like a profitable business model. The only major area of non-military domestic production that remained viable and vibrant was the construction of bullshit, half-assed houses in which Jenn-Aire 8-burner ranges and Sub-Zero side-by-sides gave the nouveau riche sheen to 6,000 sq. ft. houses with 4″ interior walls and brick on the street-façade only. Successive governments, declaring home-ownership a sort of human right, not to mention patriotic duty, along with their colluders in the Fed, made monetary policy to encourage easy lending and financial institutions folded that in right along with consumer credit to drive a go-go economy of trade-up houses, credit-card purchases, and new cars every 18 months. The Ponzi-themed fantasy-game of infinitely rising home prices made everyone feel richer than they really were. The inevitable point at which the money due would become unrealizable seemed . . . evitable. The stocks of the shell-game players kept rising, buoyed by the titanic confidence of those who believed that cycles and bubbles had been beaten. The foreign nations who sold us greater and greater quantities of oil and produced greater and greater quantities of shit for our domestic markets bought our currency and financed our consumption. The greatest, Babelian tower of horseshit phoney-baloney non-wealth ever in the history of everything anywhere amen hallelujah inshallah was constructed over thirty years in an orgy of bland consumptive excess that would impress in a Satanic sort of way were it not so monumentally crass, asinine, soul-vacating, and chintzy. We were not even good at being gaudy, as the above-mentioned mass-produced mansion and its matching driveway Hummers suggests.

I realize, of course, that it’s just a matter of perception. When I look at the discursive world she thinks is being ruined, from where I’m standing it’s a crispy smoldering lump without much in it worth saving. I’ll consider it substantially closer to unfucked when IOZ has a bi-weekly column in the Washington Post, while Gerson checks his mailbox, fingers crossed, hoping he’ll find a check from Pajamas Media.

Also in my unfucked world: Joe Scarborough is arrested, but it doesn’t make the news, because who the fuck is Joe Scarborough? In my grandmother’s unfucked world, by contrast, people don’t say “fuck” on the Internet, or anywhere else. You can understand how we’d be pretty far apart on the most effective route to media Nirvana.

The issues surrounding Israel’s recent attacks in Gaza are swirling and complex, and I don’t know if anyone can even say the words “Israel” and “Gaza” in the same sentence these days without inspiring spittle-flecked invective from both sides of the perceptual chasm.

My own view is that both sides hate each other more than they love their own children, and that this will continue until that’s no longer the case. I’m also not happy that my money’s purchasing weapons that will ultimately keep the fire burning bright and hot. I also realize that, as an American, despite the fact that I was as opposed to the strategy and tactics of the GWOT as anyone could be, I have zero moral authority or credibility when it comes to counseling other nations to resist the temptation to lash out with violent, irrational military responses to attacks by a handful of extremists.

I also despise the language people use to talk about military action. The terms “fighting”, “kick ass”, “defend (one’s) self”, and even “strength” are terms appropriately used when discussing a bar brawl, where two violent actors punch and kick each other until one or both have had enough. They have no place in honest conversations and arguments in which children are blown up or immolated by modern weapons of war, and I find the practice (especially by Americans) disgusting.

One thing that I do know, though, is that Max Blumenthal is a fucking bad-ass.

(h/t Dennis Perrin)

Olberman’s gonna need a few hundred billion to get outta the hole when this thing’s all over…

Dennis Perrin is watching the Democratic Convention, and makes a valid point in the midst of all the Blue Lovin’.

I’m happy that Michelle Obama found success in her life and loves her family, but why the fuck should I care? Her husband presumes to exert state control over me and mine, spending my tax dollars for expanded war in Afghanistan, continuing misery for the Palestinians, narco-war and repression in Colombia, among other wonderful projects, and I’m supposed to melt because his wife can read hackneyed, Hallmark copy from a teleprompter?

Heh.

…the next morning, Nagourney awoke to an e-mail from Talking Points Memo writer Greg Sargent asking him to comment on an eight-point rebuttal trashing his piece that the Obama campaign had released to reporters and bloggers like The Atlantic’s Marc Ambinder and Politico’s Ben Smith. Nagourney had not heard the complaints from the Obama camp and had no idea they were so steamed. “I’m looking at this thing, and I’m like, ‘What the hell is this?’ ” Nagourney recently recalled. “I really flipped out.”

Later that afternoon, Nagourney got permission from Times editors to e-mail Sargent a response to the Obama memo. But the episode still grates. “I’ve never had an experience like this, with this campaign or others,” Nagourney tells me. “I thought they crossed the line. If you have a problem with a story I write, call me first. I’m a big boy. I can handle it. But they never called. They attacked me like I’m a political opponent.”

No! That’s so unfair! Why would they treat you like an opponent?

Last year, when Hillary Clinton campaigned as a front-runner, Obama provided access to the press corps and won over the media. One night, during a campaign stop in Iowa, he met reporters for off-the-record drinks. He cooperated for magazine profiles and appeared on the cover of GQ. And Clinton’s relationship with the press wasn’t half as easy. “The difference is the Clinton people were hostile for no reason,” a reporter who has covered both Democrats tells me.

I can think of a reason! My hand’s raised! Pick me! Pick me!

It’s because you, the press corps, spent 8 years savaging the Clintons by playing stenographer to the ratfuckingest Republicans to come along since Nixon, continued to do so during Hillary Clinton’s senate career, and then outdid yourselves during her run at the Democratic nomination! You said things like:

…the reason she’s a US Senator, the reason she’s a candidate for President, the reason she may be a front runner, is that her husband messed around.

And:

I have often said, when she comes on television, I involuntarily cross my legs

And let’s not forget:

But doesn’t it seem like Chelsea’s sort of being pimped out in some weird sort of way?

Those are just a few gems off the top of a 16-year stack of vicious, bullshit coverage. Look, I wasn’t a Clinton supporter in the primaries per se, in fact for much of the primaries I was prohibited from publicly expressing a preference. I thought she’d be a right fine candidate, I thought the same thing about Obama. But there’s really no denying that going all the way back to 1992, there’s been plenty of reasons for the Clintons to treat you assholes like… assholes. It amazes me constantly, given the celebrity-journalism quality of political and campaign coverage, that they’re able to treat you as well as they do.

So, given the fact that this ain’t Obama’s first rodeo, and that he’s evidently really, really good at this, he’s going to work you fuckers to his advantage, and work to keep you from fucking him the way you’ve been fucking Democrats since Gingrich, Delay and Rove have had their hands up your puppet asses. It’s not new, LBJ was a master at this, and it’s not personal, any more than it is when you play video clips of Rev. Wright saying, “God Damn America!” several thousand times in a couple of weeks.

Hope this clears things up, and you’re welcome!

(h/t Atrios)

Eric Alterman says, about The Dark Knight:

I saw The Dark Knight yesterday afternoon, and I think it pulled off the neat trick of being both libertarian and fascistic, which is to say it is damn confused

Atrios, “trying to get a handle on the odd politics”, thinks that nails it. His commenters then proceed to burn it, and then Frank Miller, to the ground. (And here I thought that this was just a game for the right-wing fringe of Blawgworld.)

I’m no fan of Frank Miller’s political views, any more than I am of, say, Mark Helprin’s. But Helprin’s politics don’t change my opinion that he’s an amazing writer, or reduce my capacity to be amazed and delighted by A Winter’s Tale, or Soldier of the Great War. Likewise, Miller’s political views, misguided as I believe them to be, don’t undo his achievements as an artist and story teller (or change the fact that he wasn’t involved in making the film).

Of all the things The Dark Knight had me mulling over, none of them were anywhere close to “gosh, I’m confused by the politics of this movie… is it Libertarian or Fascist? How confusing and inconsistent.” Batman’s roots are in detective novels, and The Dark Knight is about the dance that Batman and The Joker have been doing since the 50’s. I came away from it thinking it was a superb manifestation of that story, an impressive work of film making, and a truly stunning performance by Heath Ledger. Pondering the film’s political ideology would have diminished the experience.

I understand that when politics and media are your life, as an academic, or a pundit, it’s natural to look at everything through those lenses. And I care about politics, no question. But it seems to me like going down this path with everything is a surefire way to suck all the life and joy out of art, be it fine or pop. Why do that?

[UPDATE]: Ezra points to what’s probably the best post on the politics of Nolan’s Batman I’ve read yet, in that reading it didn’t leave me with a clenched jaw wondering why-oh-why people have to do this to comic book movies.

Ya know what? I don’t think that getting in a fighter plane and getting shot down in and of itself qualifies anyone to be president either. I’m of the opinion that one’s shoddy service in the Air National Guard, barely limping through one’s tour, possibly going AWOL, drinking and snorting your way through to the end while your cohort fights and dies halfway around the world is a far superior benchmark of judgment and true grit. Haven’t we learned anything from the last 7 years?

Also, a little note to the media: up yours. Take your collective faces out of McCain’s taint long enough to do your fucking jobs. With a press corp like this, it’s amazing that we’re not already irrigating our fields with Gatorade.

[Update]: An astute commenter takes Joe Klein to task for his tut-tutting at Time’s Swampland, and notes:

Republican Congressman Duke Cunningham was a vastly superior fighter pilot in Vietnam than John McCain becoming the first Ace of the war.

Where is Duke Cunningham right now? Sitting in prison for taking bribes as a congressman.

George H. W. Bush was trained as a pilot, was shot down and then had a largely ineffective presidency.

George W. Bush was trained as a jet fighter pilot and he’s the consensus choice for the most incompetent president in American history.

Seems to me that being a fighter pilot ain’t such a great thing to put on your resume these days, eh? Perhaps some intrepid reporter will note these facts. Yeah, no I don’t think so either.

[Update Again]: Wes Clark isn’t going to back off, renounce, denounce, or reject a got-damn thing. Broadcast punditude, go ahead and invite him on your show to talk about it, but don’t be surprised if you get more than you bargained for. He’s whip smart, he’s got some service experience of his own, and he ain’t rollin’ over. Democratic leadership, please take notes as this unfolds, this is how it’s done. Take special note of the exceptional display of conviction, confidence, and spine.

[Update Yet Again]: In case there’s any confusion about what it means to attack someone’s service record:

• Wes Clark stated that McCain’s service was exemplary, and stated unequivocally that McCain was a hero. He then stated that McCain’s military experience, in particular flying an aircraft and being shot down, does not necessarily qualify him to handle presidential foreign policy decisions. Got that so far?
• Here’s McCain surrogate, on the other hand, saying on a conference call with the press:
  

  …we all know that General Clark, as high-ranking as he is, his record in his last command I think was somewhat less than stellar.

That’s what it looks like when someone attacks and demeans someone else’s service record.

So, to review: Wes Clark’s comments bring up a point of discussion, about what actually qualifies someone to be president, and argues that even exemplary, heroic military service by itself doesn’t cover all the bases. McCain’s surrogate trashing General Clark’s service as Supreme Allied Commander of NATO is just flinging shit at a political opponent.

What in the hell do people actually do at journalism school?

It’s George Carlin Week for hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions, of people, and I’m one of them. As I strolled the halls of YouTube gathering bits and pieces of old performances to savor and be grateful for, I ran across this one. Let’s enjoy a little bit of the master, and then talk about it after, shall we?

That is some nutrient-dense food for thought there, isn’t it? So why’s this commanding any more of my attention than any other particular 4 minutes of Professor Carlin’s insights?

It’s partly because I’m having a difficult time reconciling my optimism and excitement over the potential tectonic shift that an Obama presidency could affect in American politics with my bitter disappointment that only Senators Feingold and Dodd seem to give enough of a shit about the Constitution to stand on the floor of the Senate and fight like hell to stop this ass barnacle of a FISA bill. It’s depressing and disconcerting to watch so many Democrats cave on this issue. I mean, shit, there’s not even a significant political upside to giving the telecoms and the Bush administration a pass. The American people had their Constitutional rights systematically violated by Bush and the telcos, by some accounts as many as 7 months before 9/11, which sure seems like something that sits pretty squarely on the bad side of a bright line.

I also know that this would be a non-starter if our Senators knew for a fact that the American people wouldn’t stand for it. But the only real resistance is coming from a small (yet very vocal and surprisingly effective) minority of citizens who pay close enough attention to know what this fight’s about. If we thought of ourselves as citizens responsible for our government instead of consumers entitled to crazy low prices, or an audience craving entertainment, this wouldn’t be happening. But it is.

To put it another way, James Inhofe didn’t get to the Senate by accident. He is Oklahoma. To put it yet another way, we got an administration run by 4 year olds because we wanted it, and we got it good and hard.

The other chord this bit strikes in me relates to a conversation I had with someone about the late Tim Russert. I was chatting with a woman at a toddler birthday party last weekend, a D.C. local whose family has been involved in liberal Democratic politics for years and years. In the course of our discussion, she brought up that she was pretty broken up about Tim Russert, and what a great journalist she thought he was. I replied that, with respect, I wasn’t a fan of his “gotcha” style interview, and that I didn’t think much of him as a journalist after his testimony at the Libby trial, in which he admitted that discussions with government officials were off the record unless they said they wanted to be on the record. I also brought up the Mary Matalin note from Scooter Libby’s trial where she claimed that the best way for Cheney to get his message out and control it was to go on Meet The Press.

She gave a standard sort of apology for this kind of journalism, saying that they all do that, otherwise they lose their access to those officials. I countered that real journalists, like Sy Hersh for example, don’t need or want that kind of access, that real journalism is the result of doing real investigation. Tim Russert, I concluded, was a member of the court, and was primarily a performer.

This woman then gave me a knowing kind of smile, and remarked to me how great she thought it was that I’m so idealistic about journalism. I wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised if she’d pinched my fucking cheeks. And this was coming from a dyed-in-the-wool Democrat.

So there it is, garbage in, garbage out. If 95% of the American public doesn’t know anything about the fight over the FISA bill, then their Reps and Senators will pay no penalty for not caring about it either. Garbage in, garbage out. If the ones who do know something about it just don’t think that telcos sharing private information about our communications with an illegal government spying program is that big of a deal, then why would our elected officials oppose it? Garbage in, garbage out.

And though I miss the full hour, commercial free McNeil/Lehrer Report on PBS, I can’t blame any organization for its demise. They simply got out-competed by a trend toward celebrity journalism that’s seeped into every aspect of our media. There was no cabal that killed real broadcast journalism, we did that. One of the aspects of the whole open-society, free-market of ideas thing is that it’s up to us whether we want real analysis and policy discussions, or a dazzling theatrical performance with romance, fireworks, and buffoonery. We’ve chosen to be entertained, and both the performers and the audience are us.

So the next time you see one of those factoids about how we’re falling behind the the rest of the developed world in education, civil rights, and quality of life, remember this. Our government is made of us. Our media is made of us. And we suck.

Note: I’ve made several little edits for grammar and clarity. I suck too.