8.28.2007

I don't need your charity!

Another thing I was wondering about, DM, is that you keep mentioning "charity" in your comments to the last post, which you also mentioned in regards to Rorty earlier, and I'm wondering, who said anything about charity, anyways? Is this the neo-Marxist pejorative for liberal redistributive policies?

Charity is, of course, the right wing answer to poverty: No need for the government to help the poor, churches will take care of them, thousand points of light and all that. But it's not an argument that I've ever really seen made by the progressive left.

Typically, the arguments made for redistribution of income/efforts to decrease inequality are that I see getting made are:

1. A social justice argument: The wealth of this country isn't the sole result of any individual capitalist or manager's decisions. Whatever wealth they make is made possible by the people who do the work and all the people (teachers, policemen, construction workers, etc) who make this a functioning society with educated citizens, (mostly) fairly enforced laws and solid infrastucture. Without this social capital, capitalism wouldn't be able to function, so whatever wealth is created needs to be shared by everyone that made it possible.

2. A social compact/fraternity argument: We're all Americans, part of a community, and just like a family has obligations to care for the other members of their family as members of that family, so too all Americans have obligations to care for other Americans as members of their community. A lot of us progressives would like to see that sense of community eventually extended to all people in the world, obviously a tall, maybe impossible, order. And...

3. a utilitarian argument (the flip side of the social justice argument): Society functions better when inequality is minimized and you don't have some groups resenting the wealth or opportunities of others and possibly plotting to take that wealth by force; business does better and more innovation occurs when you've got a healthy, happy, well educated population; it's more cost effective to pay for health care, education, etc. up front for everyone than to pay to incarcerate people, treat the diseases of poverty, etc. down the road.

Of these, I think that the first comes pretty close to saying the same thing, in the end, as your description of Marx in your comment on the last post. While it arrives at this conclusion somewhat differently, the conclusion is still that the capitalist is not entitled to the value created by the laborer. The second argument comes closest to being "charity" but also has, I think, the strongest emotional appeal. This is important as the more we think of and feel ourselves to be "all in this together," the harder it is to think of ourselves as isolated individuals competing for limited resources and thus entitled to whatever we can acquire through this struggle. The third argument has the advantage of being empirically verifiable in a lot of ways: We can actually do research that shows how redistributing resources leads to less crime, greater productivity, better health, etc. down the line.

I don't know how you would evaluate these arguments "on the basis of the degree to which they eliminate the exploitative relationship between owner and worker" but I think that they provide a solid basis on which to argue and develop policies against inequality in our society without bringing in Marx and all the negative baggage that Marxism carries with it. Which, again, is why I'm still unclear on what, exactly, Marx is supposed to provide that I can't get elsewhere.

8.20.2007

One more go-round, re: Secularism?

I'm guessing the secularism debate here has mostly run its course. If anyone is interested in reviving it, though, this article by Mark Lilla, a humanities prof. at Columbia from the New York Times magazine, while not without its faults, is a decent, very quick overview of the history of church-state separation in the west and some current challenges it faces. It touches briefly on what I see as one of the biggest problems with mixing politics and religion: Religion is most compelling when it's least democratic.

Describing the mild-mannered Protestantism dominant in Germany in the late 1800s, Lilla states: "Liberal theology had begun in hope that the moral truths of biblical faith might be intellectually reconciled with, and not just accommodated to, the realities of modern political life. Yet the liberal deity turned out to be a stillborn God, unable to inspire genuine conviction among a younger generation seeking ultimate truth." This younger generation, especially after the pointless slaughter of World War I, "...craved a more robust faith, based on a new revelation that would shake the foundations of the whole modern order...When faith in redemption through bourgeois propriety and cultural accommodation withered after the Great War, the most daring thinkers of the day transformed it into hope for a messianic apocalypse — one that would again place the Jewish people, or the individual Christian believer, or the German nation, or the world proletariat in direct relation with the divine."

While the situation today is nowhere near as grave as in 1920s Europe, we're still stuck, as I've said before, with a bland, vague "faith" on the one hand and an intolerant, authoritarian fundamentalism on the other. When I think about what religious belief does for people then the fundamentalist or apocalyptic version makes more sense as religion to me (and apparently I'm not the only one as Evangelical and Pentacostal churches are winning converts away from Catholicism and mainline Protestantism all over the world, and Islamic fundamentalism is gaining on its mellower forms), but as a model for governing a diverse, modern society they're horrible.

8.14.2007

Debating Policy

DM thinks it’d be helpful to discuss the actual policy proposals on poverty of some of the Democratic candidates as a way of both seeing what the mainstream left has to offer and to compare it to possibly more dramatic neo-Marxist ideas…well, John Edward’s poverty policy is here and here’s his page on “Working Families,” which covers labor policies. There’s also relevant policy stuff on the website under the several other headings as well. Obama’s (not as detailed) policy page on poverty is here . This is the most relevant page off of Hillary’s website, which seems to focus at least as much on her record as her proposals, which I suppose is fitting given that a big part of her campaign narrative is that she's one of the most experienced candidates in the field. Debate on some of these proposals can be found here and here; this is, I think, an interesting and relevant way of comparing the candidates. I didn’t find as much on Hillary or Obama’s domestic policy proposals, which is probably partly due to their not offering up as much in the way of concrete proposals and partly due to the fact that policy doesn’t get discussed nearly as much as the “horserace” between the candidates. Anyways, that was also after a not very exhaustive search. I’m sure I’m not the only one here who knows how to use Google, so feel free to waste your own damn time and add to the links I’ve provided.

Anyways, while I’m not opposed to discussing and comparing the candidate’s policy programs on poverty or any other topic, there are some real limitations to the usefulness of that discussion. For one, as you’ll see if you read the campaign websites above, the level of vagueness and generality is kept pretty high. In part this is to keep from giving your opponents anything too concrete to use against you. Then there’s the fact that a lot of what matters in a given policy is going to be the fine print, the technical details regarding funding, implementation, etc. that only professionals in the field (or people with far too much time on their hands) can really sort through. I consider myself pretty knowledgeable and interested in this stuff, but I still can’t really make much sense of the advantages or disadvantages of the different health care proposals, for example. Like most people in this situation, I turn to the opinion of those who spend more time thinking about these things than me who seem to share my values and get things right more often than not. Another limitation to the policy debate is that while the President proposes what he or she’d like to see happen, it’s up to the congress to actually write the law putting the policy into effect, and a lot can happen at this level to alter the fine points of a policy. Democrats most likely won’t have a filibuster proof majority in the next congress, so they’ll have to make compromises with Republicans to get any bills passed. So with all that in mind, I think that looking at a candidates policy proposals tell us more about where their priorities and values are than what will actually become law if they’re elected, which is fine: knowing a candidates priorities and values--and whether they have the competence to enact their agenda--is probably worth almost as much as a set of detailed proposals anyway.

6.12.2007

Richard Rorty, R.I.P.

Richard Rorty has been my favorite philosopher for a while now, probably dating back to when I first read Achieving Our Country when it came out in the late ‘90s. At the time I was finding myself increasingly frustrated and unhappy with the postmodernist/cultural studies/academic leftist thought that I’d been really enamored of as an undergraduate. In that book Rorty showed me that you could criticize that strain of thought, and the sort of political paralysis it seemed to have led to on the left, without abandoning the postmodernist insights (truth as socially constructed, distrust of “metanarratives”) that I think do have real value. Rorty’s commitment to a pragmatic, reformist liberalism has been a real inspiration to me and, as I think most of my posts here show, my political views. I’d highly recommend that book to anyone here; I’d love to get a discussion of it going and would happily loan my copy out to any of the LA crew if they’re interested…more practically, there’s this essay online, which is a pretty good summation of his later political thinking, touches directly on a lot of the discussions we’ve been having here recently and, as with everything he wrote, is a model of clear, unpretentious prose. I'd love to hear your comments on it...

6.04.2007

More Thoughts on Secularism

I've had a chance to read a bit more of that Connolly book. I'm not sure if it is really worth reading unless you have a strong interest in political philosophy. Anyway, I need to return the book to the library tomorrow and I thought I would do my best to sum up his argument against secularism. I still haven't read the whole thing, but I think I at least have a grasp on his basic argument, and it may generate some interesting discussion.

Connolly traces the history of secularism back to Tocqueville, Kant, Mill, and Rawls and then uses Habermas as a more contemporary example of a seculuar position. His argument, as I understand it, is that early secularists in the West insisted on a separation of religious and political forms of argument, but they did so with the assumption that political and social life would always be guided by a shared sense of Christian values. From this perspective secularism is only possible when everyone shares a common set of values. Early secularists argued that without shared values to replace a connection with organized religion, then politics would devolve into endless conflicts that could never be solved. Habermas does not assume that public life will always be guided by Christian values. I'm a little hazy on this, but it seems that Habermas pushes for discussion and debate that is based in reason and particular types of communicative practice.

Connolly's critique of the early sense of secularism is that it assumes that politics are guided by a relatively narrow set of values. Clearly we live in a diverse world that cannot be understood based on only one set of values. From the early secularist perspective it seems that those who do not possess Christian values are unable to participate in politics. However, the more contemporary Habermasian approach does not really solve this problem. There is still the problem of how to deal with those who believe politics should be influenced by religion. Are they simply not allowed to participate in political life because their beliefs are based in faith rather than reason? For Connolly, a non-secular politics is not necessarily dominated by religion, and certainly not any particular religion. Rather it is a politics that is open to various faith based forms of reasoning and argument.

It seems that there is tendency on the part of the left to push for the elimination of religious arguments from political thought. On the radio this morning I heard Bush giving a speech in the Czech Republic in which he says something about "freedom" being granted to us by our "maker" and that it is a "true expression of the soul" or something like that. My initial reaction was to question what "maker" he is talking about and to wonder if non-Christian souls are also expressed through freedom. However I'm not sure if my instinct to critique the presence of religious thought in a political speech is very useful. The current secular state seems to produce policies that are based in the religious rhetoric at the same time that it denies any relationship with religion. One solution to this problem is to eliminate religious based arguments. Perhaps they would be replaced with empirically based reasoning. Another solution would be to accept that multiple forms of belief and reasoning will always exist and to try to create space for all of them in the construction of policy.

I am still in the process of thinking through all of this and I would welcome some input from you folks. Should non-secular forms of thought provide a basis for political decision making? If so (at this point I'm answering yes to the first question), how would this work?

5.22.2007

Moral Dilemma

I’ve recently encountered a personal problem that I could use some advice on and it relates to issues of politics and values that we’ve been discussing. I’ve been approached by CENTRA, a private company that works for the US military, to edit a “smart card” that they are distributing to Marines in Ethiopia. A smart card provides basic cultural information that is intended to facilitate interactions between marines and Ethiopians (see: http://www.mediafire.com/?ezznyjz1n3d for more details). My understanding is that US marines are advising the Ethiopian military concerning their recent invasion of Somalia. Essentially the Ethiopian government has been roped into fighting our war on terror in exchange for our ignoring their human rights abuses and importation of weapons from North Korea. I oppose the US military presence in the Horn of Africa for a number of reasons that I can go into in more detail if you’re interested.

So, clearly there is good reason not to participate in this project. On the other hand, the marines will be in Ethiopia regardless of what I do. Perhaps by getting involved in the production of information that will guide the actions of the marines I can reduce the damage done by their presence. It is debatable how much these cards actually could have an influence the behavior of marines, but assuming that they have at least some impact I think it is reasonable to assume they could do some good.

By participating in this project would I be legitimizing a military action that I strongly oppose?

Does the possibility of shaping marine views of Ethiopians in a direction of my choosing outweigh this possibility?

Will the impact of these smart cards be so negligible that it doesn’t really matter what I do?

I’m not sure if this is relevant but CENTRA has offered to pay me $500 for what would amount to at most one day of work.

I look forward to your advice.

5.18.2007

responses and appeals

The previous post has blossomed into a fascinating testament to the limitations and possibilities of political discourse. Although there is on some level a shared desire for concrete specificity, I am left with the impression that to prefer the nation over the local and vice versa (like all aesthetic choices, this preference is subject to specific situations and within the practices of everyday life have a multiplicity of expressions. E.g. one can prefer national news media to local media- they are in fact as A points out nearly the same- and at the same time one can prefer local restaurants to national chains) is to produce a set of binary oppositions that in turn produce a preference for abstraction. Thankfully no one here is making absolutist claims of an either or logic but I do see a rich spectrum of abstraction and specificity being produced through this topic. And this is indeed a very good thing.

The issue as I see DM’s responses pointing to is not however any demand that politics should adhere to his preferences which in any event include both the local and the national- he does not oppose these in a binary way in these responses- but a call for the abstractions and mediations of the national spatial-temporal scale of politics to engage the concrete social realities of what is sometimes called the local level- but perhaps would better be called the everyday level. Here in our own everyday practices which include occasional blog postings, we can address that there may be a kind of pleasure derived from our speculations on politics- whether over how to best appeal to the american people in TN’s personal preference for the national, how to appeal to reason in A’s responses, or how to appeal to place in the construction of our identities in DM’s responses. These are just a few of the many pleasures we derive from our everyday practices but certainly there are more when we consider how rich the lives we lead are. That we live in cities must in some way contribute to the shape of these everyday practices. That we travel through the spaces of these places and encounter myriad individuals and material forms may indeed shape the contours of our everyday practices. But to ask ourselves why it is that these spaces do not elicit identifications as pleasurable as the national- an object of identification only possible through abstraction and mediation- is not to abandon the national.

I think for each of us who have the privilege to speculate on these and other matters of pleasure, some attention should be paid to our own individual everyday practices, if only for the new pleasures one may discover there. It seems deeply irrational to oppose politics to these practices as if politics could only survive through an absolute separation from the foundations of our everyday lives. Furthermore, this separation and abstraction of politics from everyday reality is all the more dangerous when we begin to speculate on the political desires of other social entities including marginalized others. Without attention to the social realities of inequality on the level of everyday practices we risk appropriating and instrumenalizing their existence as figures or mere representations of the powerless. This does not mean we should not attempt to understand, engage and confront inequalities as they are experienced by others but rather that we must directly engage and confront these inequalities from the everyday practices that produce them. Proceeding case by case, site by site, level by level the specificities of these experiences and practices of inequality will demand a rigorous engagement with both local, national and increasingly transnational scales of political practice. The verb to appeal (which occupies a mediatory role between an abstract politics and practical realities) represents in its current usage the purely aesthetic dimension of politics as in the following definition:

“9. a. To address oneself, specially and in expectation of a sympathetic response, to some principle of conduct, mental faculty, or class of persons. Also, to be attractive or pleasing to (a person).To ‘make an appeal’; to be attractive.”

This pleasure it would seem has a particular direction when it comes to the abstraction of politics from everyday practice. By speculating on the attractiveness of particular candidates, policies and values to “the american people” or “the powerless”, the pleasure seems to dwell with the speculator, much in the same way real estate speculators thrive in the debates over public space and urban renewal.

The historical origins of this verb according to the OED in fact demonstrates the power differential it once (and perhaps still does) defined:

“1. To call (one) to answer before a tribunal; in Law: To accuse of a crime which the accuser undertakes to prove. spec. a. To impeach of treason. b. To accuse an accomplice of treason or felony. c. To accuse of a heinous crime whereby the accuser has received personal injury or wrong, for which he demands reparation.”

It seems the directional orientation of contemporary appeals to the american people should indeed be reversed, and it is those agents of abstraction-the politicians and their corporate bosses- who should be called to answer before “the american people” in this original form of appeal. But at the same time I recognize within the logic of this request I have just made a sense of an ancient danger. For this is indeed a call historically made by fascism in the moment of its ascendancy as it rips democratic potential from people just as they come into awareness of their collective body. I think the question of mediation returns most forcefully at this moment between fascism and actual democracy. I think this moment depends upon the degree that the abstractions and mediations of the ‘nation’ contribute or rob a people of their ability to practice autonomous forms of community. If our democracy is as fine as the liberal and conservative parties’ ‘if it ain’t broke don’t fix it’ political discourse would have us believe our nation is, then we may indeed be at the threshold of a more democratic state. But when I reflect on all that I encounter in my everyday practices, traveling through the material and virtual spaces that occupy my time, there are many serious limitations to accepting their rhetoric at face value.

At the same time, as TN, A, GreenMedallion and DM have pointed out in different ways in posts here, we are also facing incredible new possibilities for autonomous forms of democratic communities. I would suspect these possibilities would become more concrete realities if we took a closer look at the level of practice in order to appropriate the networks of mediation as they are inscribed in space and time. Looking at the places and practices of our everyday lives we may encounter the national and transnational contours of the local in unexpected ways. But perhaps ultimately this is a matter of taste, in which case we really cannot separate aesthetics and politics today.

5.09.2007

Once more against localism

Before moving on to debating secularism versus...something else, I wanted to say regarding DM's advocacy of localism that one of the reasons I just don't find this very compelling is that I feel that the "national" is in a very real way the "local" for me, and I suspect for lots of other people. I identify myself as an American more than an Angeleno, or any other regional identity I might've laid claim to in my life to date, and I'd wager that most Americans are the same way. So when my national government is run by crooks and/or imbeciles, when it does stupid shit like invade countries for bad, deceptive reason, this effects me at least as much as, if not more than, if my local level politics is corrupt or dysfunctional. This is part of the reason that 33 dead at Virginia Tech or a Kansas town wiped out by a tornado merits days of non-stop coverage while death and destruction several magnitudes greater in Iraq day after day merits hardly a mention. What happens in America is the local, what happens in other countries isn't. I think a good liberal hope/goal is that someday we could think of all the world as "local" and feel the same concern for suffering in, e.g. the Congo, that we do (hopefully) for suffering in the states. I don't know if that's possible, but I think it's a decent thing to aspire to and I think the environmental problems facing the world today demand that we try.

There's a sense in DMs arguments that the identity of "American" isn't worth laying claim to or arguing over--he seems to think that this identity can't provide the sort of affective, aesthetic intensity that he thinks politics should possess. I'd disagree. I'd clarify that I certainly don't support a xenophobic or jingoistic nationalism. The bond I feel towards my country is kind of like the bond I feel with my family--it's based more on an emotional identification than any belief that it's objectively the best country. You still love your family even if they do things that drive you crazy, and you don't stop caring about them even though your friend's family is obviously a lot cooler; you don't love them uncritically--you're aware of their failings and concerned when they fuck up. I can imagine scenarios where I'd pretty much give up on America, just as I can imagine scenarios--chronic, hardcore theiving junkiehood, for example--where I might have to give up on a family member, but I don't see the US as anywhere near that point.

Of course I'm in no way opposed to being involved with politics, including "lifestyle" politics, at the really local level, either, just don't get advocating giving up on the national.

Why I'm Not a Secularlist

I picked up a book at the library yesterday titled Why I'm Not a Secularist, by William Connolly (apparently the title is a riff on Bertrand Russel's Why I'm Not a Christian). Connolly is in the political science department at Johns Hopkins. I had a chance to read the introduction and it seems like an interesting book, and extremely relevant for some of the conversations we've been having. Perhaps if some of you have the time we could try to read a couple chapters of it. Connolly deals with a range of philosophers like Kant, Nietzsche, Arendt, Deleuze, and Foucault and at least in some of the chapters he applies these ideas to very concrete political issues in order to argue against secularism, at least in the manner that it's practiced in the west today. If you all can't get to the book I'll try to do some reading and maybe paraphrase Connolly's arguments in a future post, if they are actually as useful as I suspect they might be.

4.29.2007

Burnside Part II - Combining Aesthetic and Political Goals Through Place

In the early 1990’s when tigrenoche and I were both college students we would sometimes fill a backpack full of cheap beer and together with another friend of ours (who was generally responsible for obtaining the beer through the use of a shaggy wig and hacking cough) wander through Old Town Portland. I’m not sure if Old Town can really be said to exist anymore but back then it made up the section of Northwest Portland extending from the water up to maybe 7th or 8th and then bordered by Burnside on one side and the train tracks on the other side. It was full of bums and junkies and industrial urban decay. We would alternate between hiding out in various alleys drinking cans of beer and walking the streets vaguely hoping that something would happen. Old Town and Burnside represented zones of potential and mystery. All of us had been raised in semi-rural settings and the urban poverty fueled our imaginations. Today Old Town and Burnside have changed. There are still some bums and junkies there, but they are easily outnumbered by the wealthy young people who live in the newly built condos. The Henry Weinhard’s beer factory that used to give that section of town such a distinctive smell has been replaced by a Whole Foods. I believe that this transformation demonstrates the political nature of the Rats’ song Burnside, the importance of acknowledging the interconnections between aesthetics and politics, and the significance of place and localism for a politics that I would be interested in participating in.

Burnside is political in a very specific and personal way, that I don’t expect everyone to experience. That said, I think in the context of Fred Cole’s lifestyle and musical history virtually every song he has made has had political dimensions, but that’s another issue. For me, Burnside is political first because it evokes an intense set of emotions through the manipulation of a meaningful symbol. “Electricity flows through your veins!” This was the same excitement that I felt wandering that street on a Saturday night.

Motivating action can be political, but it can take many directions. In the context of the history of that street that direction is clarified. The song was written in the early ‘80’s when Burnside probably had far more of that urban grit that I idealized and it is very unlikely that Fred Cole anticipated the changes that would come twenty years later. However, the song documents a particular place at a particular time. It describes a process of meaning making through a connection with a specific place.

Like taste, meaning making is a shared activity. I disagree with tigrenoche’s separation of the public and the private. Our aesthetic activities are no less public than our political. The meanings that Burnside had for me were entirely social. If politics primarily involves the redistribution of resources then the transformation of Burnside was a political act. I am not interested in debating the merits of gentrification. However, there should be no doubt that gentrification drastically changes our ability to construct meaning. Burnside is becoming less and less of place where teens can place themselves within an urban myth. In 2007, to scream “Burnsiiiide!” is to express anguish and nostalgia for the past and the loss of a particular form of experience. This clearly aesthetic process of transformation is necessarily political and involves negotiation, compromise, and distributing resources.

In my posts I have continually returned to issues of place and localism. Perhaps this goes back to my favorite aesthetic activities. I love tooling around – moving through a place and appreciating its qualities. My ability to pursue this activity is directly influenced by politics, but I think the relationship goes deeper than this. The kind of politics that I want to pursue is also one that acknowledges the importance of making meaning through place. Aside from the occasional flare up of nationalism I don’t see this value being represented or pursued by the Democrats or the Republicans. As I have argued in relation to ZZ Top, it would be impossible for a nation-wide party to effectively negotiate the meaning making potential that exists within specific places. One needs to understand Burnside before this can be accomplished.

Perhaps not all aesthetic and political goals are best served through local action. However, I do believe that these goals are best accomplished when taken together. Tigrenoche claims that his aesthetic interests in marriage, trippy music, and distance running are more or less distinct from politics. I assume in the case of marriage that TN means this should be distinct from politics. I would argue that certain values are present in trippy music and distance running. Why not promote political action that serves the same interests as trippy music? Certainly music can be used to promote a politician and politicians can distribute resources in order to promote music. But, isn’t it also possible for resources to be distributed according to the same logic that makes music and running pleasurable? I would like to see my love for tooling combined with politics by giving more attention to the local dimensions of space in all aspects of negotiation and redistribution. Couldn’t a similar relationship be formed with long distance running? In order for this to occur we would first need to understand the value of distance running, but having done that I am confident that we could arrive at an effective political/aesthetic synthesis.

4.24.2007

Wherein A explains the difference between politics and aesthetics

Okay, here's a quick and dirty essay in reply to DM's request that TN explain why he thinks there is a difference between political and aesthetic goals. I'm putting it up as a new post so I don't hijack the the thread about The Flying Burrito Brothers, which deserves to be continued.

I don't think politics or aesthetics (as the word is being used here; as a field of study it does have goals) have goals. People have goals, and there are political goals and aesthetic goals. Political goals have to do with the way you want some government to run. Aesthetic goals have to do with the type of aesthetic experience you want to achieve.

There are a wide variety of types of political goals, but I think that most people in the US want the government to coordinate resources so that people are in general able to pursue whatever things they find valuable. If you want to have a toothpick collection, you want to be able to pursue that unhindered. If you want to play baseball on the weekends, you want some resources to be used to make and maintain a baseball diamond. Proposing ways of doing these things will always involve an aesthetic element, since pretty much everything has an aesthetic quality (e.g. food, numbers, ideas, words...). A proposal will tend to be more appealing if both the means and ends it proposes are presented in an aesthetically compelling way. A proposal may even be more effective if presented in an aesthetically compelling way, since it's best if people find the way their government is run appealing, and sometimes the aesthetic appreciation of an end is sufficient for one to value the end in itself. An aesthetically appealing proposal is not necessarily a good one, however. Given a certain goal, it is possible that the means we find most appealing is not the best means (it could even work against our goals). Perhaps the free market is like this, as was suggested in David Graeber's article: People love the idea that they could become rich themselves, and so oppose legislation that would help them attain more modest and realistic goals since that legislation is also a barrier to them becoming Rockefellers. If you don't like this example, think of another one; if it's possible for people to prefer what goes against their greater interests (interests that they themselves would admit to, mind you), then an aesthetically appealing politics and the best politics will be distinct things. Ideally they overlap, but they don't do so necessarily, and I don't see any reason to think they do in general, either. The bad politics behind the appealing facades of "strength," "family values," "faith-based initiatives," etc. are all evidence that they needn't overlap.

(As a closing aside, personally, I think that there is a very appealing aesthetic dimension to effective, fair, and humane governance.)

4.23.2007

Wheels

The song “Wheels” by the Flying Burrito Brothers on their 1968 album "Gilded Palace Of Sin" LP has been haunting me for some time now. It is one of the more recent encounters with music that caused me to initially began thinking about music as a means of questioning our politics in the present as I attempted to provisionally explore in the previous post. They are in fact directly related in many ways, the byrds overlapped with the flying burrito brothers and later wholly incorporated this song’s composers Hillman and Parsons as significant contributing members over their multiple configurations. In the prior post I outlined the structure of contradiction in a byrds song at once an expansive liberating space that is repeatedly interrupted, constrained forcibly and tamed by a countrified slide guitar ridden chorus. Here we find another, nearly opposite use of precisely the same instrument to insert expansive dimensions into a typical song structure.

It opens with what can only be described as bare, bar room temperament: a brittle tremolo guitar, dry tinny snare, and a rubbery cardboard sounding bass lead us into a “honky-tonk” piano-lined room where two harmonizing voices sing, one close, one slightly distant, with a slippery slide guitar adorning the corners of the first verse.
“We've all got wheels to take ourselves away/ We've got the telephones to say what we can't say/We all got higher and higher every day/Come on wheels take this boy away”

The democratic imagination of a collective “we” narrated here is defined by means of transportation, telephones, and stuff that makes you higher and higher. These are the foundations of the postwar image of freedom: vehicular escape, mediated communication, and infinite self-administered pleasure. A ceaseless rite of passage never completed that forever postpones “our” transmission from boyhood is wrapped in the cloak of the timeless honky-tonk of a long lost folk authenticity. But the chorus disrupts this repetition of deferral and displaced subjectivity inhered in the confines of a mediated honky-tonk with the linear expanse of the road. Although distant, the end of the road is always present in the linear expanse of lines of flight afforded by the wheels that will take this boy away, like the angels of death themselves. “We're not afraid to ride/We're not afraid to die/ So come on wheels take me home today/So come on wheels take this boy away”
The fearlessness of the choruses’ collective we suggests a subject full of certainty in the face of limitless uncertainty, it is a subject differentiated from the verses’ subject by a decisive recognition of the profound limitations of their own eternal escape. The piercing of the song space by two resonating notes of a distorted slide guitar’s open strings sustaining a lone note embodies this decisive state of both limitation and freedom, a state produced by the collective we’s confrontation with its death as it permeates the very conditions of their freedom. That is, in the resonating sustain of the two notes born in the wake of the linked verbs to ride and to die we encounter a world at once infinite and finite, a contrary form of possibility and constraint which calls into being a “we” whose wheels are the sole means of their becoming, their angel of hope and death all rolled into one. Between their ride and their death, punctuated by the resounding drones of fuzz distortion “we” must decisively submit to their wheels having abandoned all fears as well as the fraught distractions of a ceaseless escape that has reached its limits; the wheels embody both discrete worlds of verse and chorus, and are thus the transport between these realms. This chorus repeats instrumentally and the interaction between these contours of possibility and constraint between two worlds plays out in the exchanges of the instruments leading ultimately to a return of the honky-tonk world played by the conventional country slide guitar and insistent piano.

From there, the second verse ambiguously attempts to align these separate worlds with a single subject who faces their death with a joined fatalism with faith to plead their wheels to transform him at last into the deferred manhood: “Now when I feel my time is almost up/And destiny is in my right hand/I'll turn to him who made my faith so strong/Come on wheels make this boy a man” This turn to the spiritual through the material produces a deep contradiction between the liberating and confining functions of the wheels which differently embody each world of verse and chorus. At the same time, in both realms, they increasingly become the only means of salvation for both collective and singular subjects. The chorus returns as the mediation of the timeless individual versus community opposition and that resigned, decisive collective subject, which now includes all individuals capable of inserting themselves into the “I” of the second verse. “We're not afraid to ride/We're not afraid to die come on wheels take me home today/ come on wheels take this boy away/come on wheels take this boy away.”

I could go on with these contrary forms of mechanical escape and liberation tangled up in the image of wheels but want to instead come to the point of my encounter with this song. While not the first “road song” by any means, this song about wheels contains many of the contradictions from which the present was born and in particular, identifies a very concrete set of political limitations active in the present.

The interstate highway network legislated into being under pressure of the auto-makers in 1956 would have by 1968 been largely completed. (see en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Interstate_Highway_System for a brief overview of this network)
The wheels of this song in fact seem to represent the profound shift in the spatial-temporal dimension of the American landscape and the contradictions the highway system brought into being. Most importantly these lyrical wheels belong to a new we of a political subject linked through a interstate road system and a landscape increasingly oriented towards this new scale of exchange. The degree to which we can trace the material foundations of the so-called party of “strength” and its martial logic through this particular form of wheels is the degree to which we can locate our own possibilities and limitations in opposing them in concrete ways. That is, quite literally by encountering the contrary form of wheels brought into being at the same time as a new spatial-temporal scale inscribed upon the landscape throughout the 1960’s, we can uncover the conflicted origins of a present all the more submitted to the wheels which this song hailed as our angels of salvation and death. This is not a question of a new language, nor of a new set of values but identifying within these materials present everywhere a space of leverage that can offer us a better understanding of the present. If we can locate the places and times when and where the “politics” of the present have come into being, those who oppose the right need not merely find better counter-slogans, but can perhaps begin to displace their practices of inequality with practices that undo those inequalities. I am using very general terms here again to emphasize the need to think both beyond and through the politics given to us by a deeply mediated world (a world of politics indistinct from the politics of news channel hair stylists and make-up technicians). Our own strong valuations of “equality” will never being able to engage the practices of inequality until their material foundations are confronted with opportunities for all to take part in their undoing.

Song link in comments

4.22.2007

Burnsiiiide!!!!!

It sends shivers up my spine. “Paralyzed by electricity! It was the guns of rock and roll! It was a sound that was out of control! Burnsiiiiide!!!!!”

The Rats off of their early 1980’s album In a Desperate Red. This is what I mean by a new language for politics. On the album, Burnside is preceded by a song called Working Class and followed by Come On Toody in which the band leader Fred Cole laments his wife Toody’s inability to get out of the house in a timely manner – “Come on Toody, Why’s it always take you so long?” If this is a political language it is extremely specific. It speaks to that handful of people who know about a street called Burnside and understand why it might have something to do with electricity flowing through your veins. Specificity has good and bad qualities. For those of us who are participating in the same language game as Fred Cole it makes the song take on an amazing power. For those who have never experienced Burnside it is more or less meaningless. Maybe you get what he’s saying but it’s not the same as having lived the street. So, this means of communication has limits.

A person might also question the actual message of this song, but I will assume that after all of our preceding discussion that this is no longer an issue. Burnside is no less of a call to action and values than appeals to strength and equality.

The problem is one of sacrificing the power of localism for a larger audience. Both are important and sacrificing one for the other would be a mistake. Fred and Toody Cole later formed two-thirds of Dead Moon, a band that consistently sought to use local symbols in order to create an international set of values. The title and chorus of the Dead Moon song 54/40 or Fight, refers to the slogan that was used to claim the independence of Oregon territory from the British in the 1840’s. Previously the territory was administered by both the British and Americans and 54/40 was the line of latitude that marked the northern border of Oregon territory. While the US did take control of much of Oregon territory they had to settle for the 49th parallel, which is now the northern border of Washington state. The song has little in the way of historical reference. Rather it is a song about being pushed until you can take no more. In some ways it is a song of rebellion not unlike other classics like Twisted Sister’s We’re Not Gonna Take It. However, both the Dead Moon lifestyle (being old, putting out your own records in mono, wearing black) gave them a credibility that kept irony at a minimal level. Despite the Oregoncentric nature of Dead Moon’s lyrics their biggest fan base was in Germany.

Dead Moon and The Rats never sold themselves as an “Oregon” band in the manner that ZZ Top catapulted themselves with the symbol of Texas. Perhaps the notion of staying true to one’s roots enabled them to expand their audience, but there was never a point when it seemed that Dead Moon was sticking close to Clackamas in order ensure their credibility and therefore sell more albums in Germany. Even with international acclaim, the localism of Dead Moon was maintained.

If there is a new language it must be one that combines specificity and mass appeal. It’s necessary to grab hold of a symbol with the power of Burnside that people all over the world can recognize. This is why peace, love, and war are so popular. This is also why peace, love, and war fail to generate any real passion in so many people – they are too abstract. This is a problem, but as 54/40 or Fight (sorry no digital copy to post) illustrates there is no inherent barrier to constructing symbols that are locally specific and appeal to people in different places. The political success of the left depends on generating such symbols that are rooted in place but are capable of transcendence as well

4.18.2007

Political Rhetoric

This short article by Julian Baggini discusses a certain type of rhetorical device that is common in politics, where what is said is uncontroversial but what is implied is not. It meshes nicely with DM's comments in another thread about the invocation of strength in a lot of the right's political rhetoric. From the article:
When a political party is making its case by, in effect, not really making a case at all but creating an impression, it can be hard to pinpoint errors of reasoning. Indeed, a really good campaign will only use slogans and arguments that are irrefutable.
What I like about the article is that it does a pretty good job of highlighting the real tension I feel between the need to make your political position attractive, and presenting the best reasons for your political position. Ideally the latter would be the best way to do the former, but unfortunately this might not be the case.

Baggini doesn't offer any solutions. One good question, I think, is what the best response is to this sort of rhetorical device. Do you call out its implications? Or do you reply with your own rhetoric? Or do you ridicule it? Or does it vary from case to case?

4.12.2007

Next Level Blogging

The subject of Iraqi blogs came up in conversation with TC08 and Greenmedallion last weekend, and I totally forgot about AliveInBaghdad, a video blog shot in Iraq and in Iraqi expat/refugee communities...very powerful, very depressing stuff; probably some of the best journalism on Iraq anywhere now.

On the music blog front, my vote for best music blog (criticism, not downloading, category) Woebot has branched out into video blogging with the amazing Woebot.tv The current "episode" is about British folk music, which should be of interest to at least one of the other contributors to this blog...whenever he puts up a new post, the old one disappears forever, so you gotta check back often (I think you can subscribe now too, and get e-mail notifications when a new post goes up).

Any of you have any recommendations for blogs taking it to the next level, breaking boundaries--or just doing typical blog stuff particularly well?

4.08.2007

Army of Altruists - Getting Back to Our Discussion on Identity

There was an article in Harper's a few months ago that essentially argued that the military is an institution where working class Americans can fulfill the need to help others and lead meaningful lives. I think you should be able to access the article at: http://harpers.org/archive/2007/01/0081344. If not I can possibly create a link to the PDF. Perhaps you've already read it. In any case I think it's quite interesting and it fits well with some of the discussions we were having earlier. If you agree with the author's (David Graeber) argument then it seems that creating institutions that facilitate the construction of a meaningful life in a non-militaristic manner is a worthy goal. Not to dredge up a topic that we have discussed to great extent in the comments section of another post, but it does seem that among the democratic candidates Kucinich is making proposals that move in this direction. The military offers a powerful myth/narrative in which one accomplishes great things, travels the world, and positions one's self to access a desirable career. It seems that offering other opportunities/narratives for accomplishing this is something that should be explored further.

4.06.2007

A super depressing start to your weekend:

Oy. Might try to comment later (when I'm done rocking back-and-forth and mumbling to myself). What do you think?






And how come I'm the only one putting any new posts up in, like, a week now?

4.02.2007

Yeah for unions!

I started my new, union job yesterday. I've got the SEIU watching my back now. What does union membership get me? About $3600 more per year than the same position at my last workplace, annual cost of living increases and overtime pay. At the last place I worked the clinicians were expected to work 50 or more hours per week on salary. So better pay and 10+ hours more per week to live your life--to blog, start back running (soon, I hope), get a community garden going. That's a pretty sweet deal.

I think that increasing union membership and clout is one of the most important goals that progressives need to be supporting. Since political aesthetics and identity is such a hot topic on this blog; I think it's nice to read this which reports that 53% of Americans say that they would join a union if they could. Maybe the image of unions as mob run rackets that just keep lazy incompetents from getting fired that the corporate bosses is no longer operative. Anecdotally, when I caught the local news the other night they were doing man-on-the-street interviews about the threat of another grocery strike in the near future, and they didn't have anyone on who didn't support the workers and the strike. You know that if the TV news folks had found anyone to bitch about the inconvenience or how those people are already paid too much to bag groceries, they would've been prominently displayed to provide some "balance." I'm not sure how we could go about making the union worker identity a more appealing one, especially to our generation and younger, people growing up entirely in the age of shrinking unions. Maybe humorous, ironic ads would help?

3.31.2007

Evaluating Identities

I’ve got no problem accepting the importance of aesthetics in the formation of political identities; but then comes the question of how you justify (if you can justify...) one choice of identity, one aesthetic, over another. Below is an attempt at evaluating a couple of the political lifestyles available to choose from in this day and age, a justification of my own choices; my response to this from DM in comments: “This would involve constructing an argument for why involvement in the Democratic Party enables the production of an identity that is more appealing than being an evangelical, an anarchist, or an apathetic academic....” This ended up pretty long, so rather than take up the whole front page with my post, I’m going to start it here and continue it in comments...there should be a way to collapse longer posts; I don’t feel like messing around with Blogger right now to figure out how, but if any of you know how, please fill me in! Anyhoo...

Basically, right now in the US you've got a coalition of evangelicals, neocons, and various other right wingers that has attained an enormous amount of power in our society. Intrinsic to these different strains of right wing identity is the desire to limit the ability of other people to freely form their own identities. This can be a very direct attempt to limit identity formation: The attempt to deny gays and women identities not confined to traditional gender roles. It can also be a more indirect, secondary effect of other actions: Economic policies that result in stagnating wages, the accumulation of wealth in fewer and fewer hands and the erosion of the social safety net leave more and more people, including increasingly more affluent members of the middle class, on shaky ground. In this state you're far less free to construct a a satisfying identity for yourself as you're too busy just trying to meet basic needs. My dream may be to, say, open a 24 Hour Pho Restaurant, but I can't follow that dream because I've got a health condition and can't afford to buy private health insurance; so I stay at a job I don't like that defines me in a way I didn't choose. Another example is the suppression of unions and unionization by the right. The ability of workers to take back a little control over their workplace, to improve the work environment and get fair hours and compensation, which allows them to pursue non-work identities in their leisure time. We could also mention the right’s attempts to limit immigration, their apathy and incompetence leading to lives lost and destroyed in New Orleans. We could talk about how the increasing authoritarian streak on the right limits political identity formation by limiting protest and conducting massive surveillance of their opponents. At the extreme end they've claimed the right to arrest Americans on American soil, classify them as enemy combatants, torture them and imprison them without trial indefinitely. I could seriously keep going in this vein for quite a while, but you all know about this stuff. If you want to talk about politics in terms of how we form identities that make us feel good or provide meaning to our lives, I think it's clear that the right wing in America wants and acts to seriously limit our ability to do so.

Continued in comments...

3.30.2007

Hollywood is Burning




Not sure how this relates, but thought you all would like to see it.