The Alexis de Tocqueville Society

Lecture: Michael Polanyi: Art of Knowing

2007-04-12T19:38:00.000-07:00

On March 21, 2007 the Alexis de Tocqueville Society at Patrick Henry College hosted a lecture by Dr. Mark T. Mitchell on his recent book Michael Polanyi: The Art of Knowing. You can view the video of the lecture followed by a question and answer session here.

Many thanks to Ben Adams for recording, editing, and posting this video.

Best Music of 2006

2007-01-15T09:13:00.000-08:00

by Steven Rybicki

The Ys Spectacular

Ys, from the transfixing Joanna Newsom, is a record that inspires nothing less than aesthetic exhaustion. And you can’t begin to believe how sublime that exhaustion feels when working through the dense lyrics and wonderful arrangements (courtesy of one of the great minds behind Pet Sounds, Van Dyke Parks). The first reviews that dropped on this release were laden with the overall criticism that Ys is “overwritten.” This allegation was enough to convince me to Amazon this puppy. I mean, come one, this was the year of banal and desolate offerings that explained, “you’re beautiful,” “we fly high,” “it’s goin’ down,” “let your shoulder lean,” and (how can we forget), “eight seconds left in overtime…” producing utter aural numbness. So, good lord, please give me “overwritten.”

I will never complain when confronted with lyrics that are hard to parse and situations and suggestions that are difficult to digest, so this was a treat. In the case of Ys, we have words that are sung, pitch to pronunciation, with a literariness and sense of being lived-in that is simply lacking in the writing exercises of our best current writers, like Colin Melloy (and that’s not to denigrate The Decemberists, at all). To understand my point, a comparison: Newsom’s “Monkey and Bear” with The Decemberists’ “The Crane Wife.” Melloy’s epic feels like another impressive research paper from a graduate student in the English department and demonstrates, again, his talent for embedding self-contained EPs within The Decemberists’ larger pop catalogue (for further evidence, just remember, Picaresque had its “Mariner’s Song” and the record was written concurrently with The Tain). “Monkey and Bear” is, on the other hand, an expressive tale of a scheming monkey and an amiable bear. Instead of telling the story directly and chronologically, like Melloy’s Tain, “Mariner,” “Island,” and “Crane,” Newsom appeals to the listener’s imagination to explain the history between Money and Bear and their life (during and after captivity) by only explicitly describing their escape from their trainer and a couple stories of their new life.

But we’ve yet to get to the showstopper: “Only Skin.” This agile, potent reflection is a behemoth, in terms of length, and baroque, in terms of Newsom’s words and phrasing. Her harp refuses to drive the melody (Van Dyke takes care of that). Instead, the rhythm of strings-and-pluck is inextricably entangled with her vocalization of the lyrics: she sings with both voice and harp. I won’t touch the content of “Only Skin” because it’s simple, and yet, so ripe for your interpretation: it’s written around the daily life of two lovers (perhaps living in a cottage with a thatched roof near the forest where Money hides and the ocean where Bear loses himself in his primal frolic among the waves), but is infused with only indirect forms of address to, and elliptical descriptions of, its characters. It builds to a climax (the climax of Ys, itself, actually) that features a drowsy, waltzing tempo and Newsom’s intonation complimented by Bill Callahan’s dry but urgent, Tom Waits-by-way-of-Leonard Cohen voice that echoes and responds to the calls of Joanna’s character. The climax is overwhelming in it’s melody, lyrics, and mood. It’s a stirring, but nevertheless exhausting, listen: unparalleled by any other work this year.

Ys is, by far, the best record I’ve heard recently, and I have confidence that it will continue to amaze as the decade progresses (along with other classics of the Zeros: Lucinda Williams’ World Without Tears, Interpol’s Turn On the Bright Lights, and The Wrens’ Meadowlands).

Rest of the Best:

Boys and Girls in America by The Hold Steady

(Even if you don’t believe it) The Hold Steady radically altered their approach to writing this record: eschewing the intricate short story/concept album form of Separation Sunday, they switched to meta-rock. What’s meta? Well, an example of it is when you start a record with the rousing truism, “Sal Paradise was right/boys and girls in America they have such a sad time together,” then inventing an almost laughable assertion that they’re all at a “demonstration.” Ha! I certainly hope Finn doesn’t really mean “ALL the boys and girls in America,” because we’re consumers who exist on such a repellent plane of low intelligence that when the media got around to marketing voting to our generation it was in the form of the “Vote or Die” test. And we still failed (so let’s send some desperate and fervent prayers to god that boys and girls in America aren’t at demonstrations and don’t have any opinions on, say, Iraq… just keep them driving their Jettas and Z71s and watching The Hills and Britney’s crotch). So, we’ll just have to conclude that The Hold Steady have a specific type of youth demographic in mind, and if you actually bought the record, my guess is that you’re a member of that group.

But back to The Hold Steady’s “meta” record. Boys and Girls in America is all about the art of writing a smattering of songs about all sorts of those awkward, ecstatic, and formidable experiences that happen during, and in between, the quests for relationships, sex, drugs, stability, parties, (etc.,) that we’re all consumed with doing before the inevitable happens: getting old and hating yourself by idolizing and resenting the young. The Hold Steady know they’re writing and jamming about easy targets, the love and loss of the young, but they infuse it with their literary and cynical sense of self-awareness. Additionally, the lyrics themselves are involuted mini-clinics on how rock lyrics are written and the characters that the songs follow on various jaunts are all in on gag. This is the difference between making a brilliant record, as The Hold Steady did, and producing an embarrassing collection that was The Killers’ mess, Sam’s Town. The Hold Steady don’t pretend that their work is going to “save” you (that’s for Jesus and John Berryman), they just want you to rock-n-roll with it (and, if you party too hard, there will always be sex, saline, and cherry Coke in the chill out tent).

#3-#13

Shearwater, the refigured double of the adventurous Austin band Okkervil River, released the incredible LP, Palo Santo. Unfortunately, no one really noticed. As always with the Sheff clan, the instrumentation is paranoid and groovy and transitions to strong, spacious melodies. Upping the ante on melody, however, was Sub Pop’s Band of Horses. Their strong, second quarter offering, Everything All the Time was the best epic pop/rock record that Built to Spill never released (never mind that they’re fronted by a voice more lyrically focused than My Morning Jacket). The hooks on “The Funeral,” “The Great Salt Lake,” and “Monsters” are compelling and the record glides so effortlessly that time melts around this little gem.

On the more avant-garde end of the mainstream music world, TV on the Radio delivered the blistering and intricate Return to Cookie Mountain and Xiu Xiu continued to shine in his convulsive, transgressive squalor. Cookie Mountain’s dark and surreal lyrics, ornate samples, and programming are only surpassed by that feature of TV on the Radio that no other act can touch: percussion. The beats and rhythms conjured by whatever the hell those guys bang on are worth the price of admission, alone: particularly on “I Was A Lover,” “Wolf Like Me,” “Blues From Down Here,” and “Wash the Day Away.” On the other end of the avant is Xiu Xiu’s new seething tantrum of lascivious anxiety and self-loathing. This guy’s always had a brilliant pop album in him and, to his chagrin, he knows it (in fact, his awareness of his own faculty with verse/chorus/verse and his ability to experiment with instrumentation until he finds undeniably catchy hooks probably stokes his confusion and anger). His usual minimalist programming and percussion persists in The Air Force but, as he admitted to me when I interviewed him last December, the strains of pop songwriting and arrangements have become dominant (read: more “I Love the Valley” and “Bog People” and less “Support Our Troops Oh!”). The Air Force isn’t his masterpiece, but it’s a virulent and fascinating document. If he succumbs to his urges and gets that great pop record done, he’ll be heralded as a visionary able to harness the darkness of Scott Walker, Pharrell’s occasional claustrophobic minimalist loops, and Brian Wilson’s melancholy wrapped in discreet, catchy, three minute bursts.

Innovative programming wasn’t just happening in Brooklyn and Berkeley: from CSS, to LCD’s Nike foray, or the new Herbert, and even two DFA compilations, there was plenty available. For my money the best of the bunch was The Knife’s Silent Shout, Hot Chip’s pop miracle, The Warning, and the Timbaland/Timberlake October surprise, FutureSex/LoveSounds. Silent Shout is the universally hailed dance record that has crisp beats in combination with the satanic atmospheric chops of an electronic Joy Division fronted by Kate Bush. The Warning, in stark contrast, is a warm, sentimental record from those congenial smart-asses, Hot Chip. It’s enveloped by a nostalgic haze of lyrics that work through adolescent isolation, puppy love, and flat-out dance anthems, and grounded by clean rhythms interlaced with synths and samples of sparse guitars. Finally, there’s the one-two punch of Justin Timberlake and Timbaland. FutureSex spots the audience a couple excellent singles (“SexyBack” and “My Love”), but that’s just a flirt. When you make it to the centerpiece of the album it expands its disco/disco-punk to the point it collapses into an infectious lovelorn ballad set against a “beat vs. bollywood” sample. Those songs, “LoveStoned/I Think She Knows” and “What Goes Around… Comes Around” respectively, each clock in past the seven-minute mark. Those monsters are nestled between the initial aggressive and innovative medley, “FutureSex/LoveSound” through “My Love,” and the, comparatively, rote and disappointing threesome of “Chop Me Up,” “Damn Girl,” and “Summer Love.” It all ends with three tepid ballads. But the outstanding first half of the record is exciting enough to warrant heated accolades.

And Nas is back to remind us that hip-hop is dead. You mean “The Whisper Song” wasn’t what Chuck D, KRS-One, and Mr. Illmatic himself had in mind for the genre? What a shocker. Now, don’t get me wrong: I love and respect Nas. In terms of hip-hop, he’s absolutely God’s son: the an MC, second only to Biggie (but don’t be fooled into thinking that he’s some sort of worthy public intellectual). Yet I can’t let this “hip-hop is dead” advert slogan go by without comment: the statement is rank with hypocrisy. Regardless of whether Nas’ work (every once in a while) has pointed to class distinctions, systems of power in the context of the urban poor, and can detail the psychological stress of poverty, and how it affects the maturation of the young male mind, his work has refused to get lost in developing the complexities of that web of cause and effect. Instead, he, decided to glamorize the laissez faire market system of dealing, the lavish lifestyle of the wealthy, and beef with Jay-Z.

Which leads me to best hip-hop records of the year: Ghostface Killah’s Fishscale and Clipse’s return, Hell Hath No Fury. They are the incarnation of why Nas is 1) wrong to think “hip-hop is dead” is anything more profound than a simple marketing maneuver and 2) even if one was to grant that premise, it shows what an artistically limited statement it is. In the past three years Ghostface has produced both this year’s stellar Fishscale and 2004’s The Pretty Toney Album. And he, like Nas, is on Def Jam. We’re not talking about some elitist or small market indie hip-hopper. This man has dropped singles like “Run” and is still as energetic, vicious, and, in fact, much more lyrically/socially incisive than when he was Wu-banging on the 36 Chambers.

On the other hand, we have Clipse. I get the feeling that this is more the type of record that Nas has in mind when knocking the current state of hip-hop. Hell Hath No Fury is produced by the Neptunes and demonstrates their prowess for crafting hipbreakers (“Mr. Me Too”), crackling beats (“The New World”), and lavish crunk parodies (“Trill”). Yet, the Norfolk rappers themselves don’t quite live up to the promise of the music under girding their voices. Despite writing the best pun of the year (“The news called it crack/I call it diet coke”), their Miami Vice allusions are lifeless and the descriptions of women (whether they’re strippers, college co-eds, or merely “fly” in “Dirty Money) are rote and tired. And it’s this weakness of a solid record that allows me, in moments of weakness/elitism, to agree with Nas. I’ll countenance his “hip-hop is dead” decree because the problem with describing Hell Hath No Fury is whether one should count it a “plus” that the stories are more developed and the beats just plain hotter than Akon, Dem Franchise Boyz, or Yung Joc?

Finally, and always most importantly, it comes down to the ladies. Of course, Joanna gave us the best record of the year, but during the rest of the “6” there were two more lyricists who wrote impressive additions to their respective catalogues. Cat Power (Chan Marshall) did her Dusty in Memphis and kicked it all off with a *perfect* single, “The Greatest.” Neko finally released her follow-up to Boiler Room Lullaby (we all know that as great as The Tigers Have Spoken. was, it was merely a stop-gap measure). Fox Confessor Brings the Flood is an unrelenting voyage through, what should be the familiar, Country&Western tropes: lost and jealous lovers, violence, and religion. Lacking the naturalism of Lucinda Williams, Neko Case’s record doesn’t so much describe these traumas in harrowing detail and with an acute perceptiveness, but, rather, her hypnotic vocal intonations interpret these scenarios as a part of a larger, mysterious psychological dreamscape. A purgatory of tragedy, love, and religious symbols, mediated and possessed by our only soothsayer and guide: Neko Case.

And now for the ubiquitous lists…

Best Records of 2006

1) Ys by Joanna Newsom
2) Boys and Girls in America by The Hold Steady
3) Palo Santo by Shearwater
4) Silent Shout by The Knife
5) Fox Confessor Brings the Flood by Neko Case
6) Fishscale by Ghostface Killah
7) Everything All the Time by Band of Horses
8) Return to Cookie Mountain by TV on the Radio
9) The Warning by Hot Chip
10) The Greatest by Cat Power
11) Hell Hath No Fury by Clipse
12) FutureSex/LoveSounds by Justin Timberlake
13) The Air Force by Xiu Xiu
14) So This Is Goodbye by Junior Boys
15) Return to Sea by Islands
16) The Crane Wife by The Decemberists
17) Gulag Orkestar by Beirut
18) Let Me Go Let Me Go Let Me Go by Jason Molina
19) The Avalanche by Sufjan Stevens
20) Passover by The Black Angels
21) Précis by Benoit Pioulard
22) The Life Pursuit by Belle and Sebastian
23) Shut Up I Am Dreaming by Sunset Rubdown
24) Beach House by Beach House
25) The Loon by Tapes ‘n Tapes
26) Destroyer’s Rubies by Destroyer
27) You In Reverse by Built to Spill
28) Drums Not Dead by Liars
29) Carnavas by the Silversun Pickups
30) The Last Romance by Arab Strap
31) Night Ripper by Girl Talk
32) He Poos Clouds by Final Fantasy
33) The World is Gone by Various
34) The Information by Beck
35) Veneer by Jose Gonzalez
36) Up In Rags/With Our Wallets Full by the Cold War Kids
37) Bitter Tea by The Fiery Furnaces
38) Show Your Bones by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs
39) Meds by Placebo
40) The Eraser by Thom Yorke

Best Songs of 2006

“The Greatest,” Cat Power
“Mother, Sisters, Daughters & Wives,” Voxtrot
“Young Folks,” Peter, Bjorn, and John
“That’s Life,” Killer Mike
“Only Skin,” Joanna Newsom
“And I Was A Boy From School,” Hot Chip
“Yankee Bayonet (I Will Be Home),” The Decemberists
“My Love,” Justin Timberlake (ft. Timbaland and T.I.)
“The Other Side of Mt. Heart Attack,” Liars
“Hello New World,” Clipse
“SexyBack,” Justin Timberlake
“Stuck Between Stations,” The Hold Steady
“Marble House,” The Knife
“Dudley,” Yeah Yeah Yeahs
“Promiscuous,” Nelly Furtado (ft. Timbaland)
“Star Witness,” Neko Case
“What You Know,” T.I.
“Springfield, Or Bobby Got a Shadfly Caught in His Hair,” Sufjan Stevens
“Black Republican,” Nas and Jay-Z
“The Champ,” Ghostface Killah
“Love is Stronger than Witchcraft,” Robert Pollard
“Ask About Me,” Girl Talk
“Palimend,” Benoit Pioulard
“Stink,” Arab Strap
“Saint John,” Cold War Kids
“Save Me Save Me,” Xiu Xiu
“Us Ones In Between,” Sunset Rubdown
“Whoo! Alright-Yeah… Uh Huh,” The Rapture
“Infra-Red,” Placebo
“Lazy Eye,” Silversun Pickups
“The Funeral,” Band of Horses
“Roscoe,” Midlake
“Lovestain,” Jose Gonzalez
“Gettin’ Some,” Shawnna (ft. Ludacris)
“Ms. New Booty,” Bubba Sparxxx (ft. The Ying Yang Twins)
“The Warning,” Hot Chip
“Dirty Business,” The Dresden Dolls
“Hospital Beds,” Cold War Kids
“Mr. Me Too,” Clipse (ft. Pharrell)
“Thunnk,” Various
“Postcards from Italy,” Beirut
“Goin’ Against Your Mind,” Built to Spill
“All Fires,” Swan Lake
“Bossy,” Kelis
“So This Is Goodbye,” Junior Boys
“Wolf Like Me,” TV On the Radio
“White Waves,” Shearwater
“Get Out Get Out Get Out,” Jason Molina
“Your Blood,” Destroyer
“10 Gallon Ascots,” Tapes ‘n Tapes
“Funny Little Frog,” Belle and Sebastian
“Rough Gem,” Islands
“Black Swan,” Thom Yorke
“Je Ne Te Connais Pas,” Prototypes
“Maneater,” Nellie Furtado
“Apple Orchard,” Beach House
“This Lamb Sells Condos,” Final Fantasy
“Strange Apparition,” Beck
“Bloodhounds On My Trail,” The Black Angels
“When You Were Young,” The Killers
“Chasing Cars,” Snow Patrol

Visions of Munich

2006-06-07T21:08:00.000-07:00

by Steven Rybicki

The reports about the demise of Munich’s chances for Oscar glory were not exaggerated. Critics opted for Ang Lee’s wounded love story, because of the strength of Brokeback’s stellar cast and they appreciated Lee’s visual compositions (but let’s be honest: the film looks like a motif hybrid between those Marlboro magazine ads in Rolling Stone and the Chevy “Like A Rock” pick-up commercials of the nineties). And, of course, Crash took home the Best Picture prize.

Unfortunately, Munich has been branded by a defective indictment: that the film adopts a position of moral equivalency between the Israeli and Palestinian characters (or metaphorically, the equivalency between the West and “terrorists”). This is odd because, for better or worse, the film, as written by Tony Kushner, upholds a view that presupposes the moral superiority of the West.

It’s regrettable to see this criticism, vigorously argued by writers like Charles Krauthammer, persist. Spielberg and Kushner have taken a more reactive approach to the “interpretive hijacking” of the film’s political content and moral point of view this past week. Yet, there’s one point that Kushner and Spielberg have been coy in admitting: they’re position isn’t just (as Spielberg claims) politically thoughtful or (as Kushner claims) sensitive to the existential consequence of humans butchering humans (regardless of the social structures that “legitimize” such actions), but that their film demonstrates the higher moral development and caliber of the protagonist Israeli characters over any/all of the Palestinians.

The film is “about” two major (psychic, emotional, social, political, etc.) themes: the pursuit of home and the repercussions for killing human beings. Munich does have a perspective that is both staunch in its moral grounding (this is not really in dispute), but to many commentators they do not question or understand where Kushner locates or maintains this ground. In Tony Kushner’s moral narrative there is one moral characteristic that is the sunum bonum when distinguishing the “righteous” from the “lost” (or, in Angels in America the “righteous” from the “Republicans”): self-conscious doubt.

In Munich, like Angels in America, the admirable characters are the ones who, as Kushner implored the Columbia graduates last year at commencement, “interrogate mercilessly the truth you’ve found.” In Angels in America one of the greatest crimes of the antagonist, Roy Cohn (think: a hybrid of Michel Foucault and Al Swearingen who works as the Reagan Administration’s envoy to the John Birch Society) is his failure to have faith in his ideology to the extent that he would have the courage to torture it with self-conscious doubt. Contrasted with Cohn are characters like Prior Walter. He questions his non-belief in the spiritual after his angelic encounters, and then, in “heaven”, questions his questioning by telling Being to let him be. Belize is another astonishing character who questions his place in the margins of American society, at the same time cannot deny that he actively participates in that society, and yet snipes at a character’s leftist and (small-“l”) liberal optimism in the US: “I hate this country. Nothing but a bunch of big ideas and stories and people dying, and then people like you. “

For Kushner, self-aware skepticism and/or doubt in an ideological cause are the indicators that one has correctly accessed the relationship between the individual and dogmas of religion, politics, history, sexuality, etc. And in Munich, self-conscious doubt is integral to how Kushner creates many of the Israeli characters. Sure, it takes more time for Avner, Carl, Robert, and Hans, to acquire the vocabulary and emotional circumspection to understand their doubt than in Angels in America, but few characters have ever been written to rival the intellectual prowess of Prior, Belize, Roy, and Louis. But the main characters in Munich do develop skepticism, still do their jobs, and accept responsibility for all the consequences, good and bad, of their actions.

Yet keep in mind, no Arab characters are endowed with doubt in their cause. Some are very intelligent, argue nuanced positions, or are disarmingly outgoing. The Palestinians can be academically accomplished, understanding the relationship between “narrative and survival”; or they can tell their wife to calm down with her emotional and irrational rantings against the crimes of the occupation, in favor of a more reasoned and calm dissection of the problem; or they can be really charming when talking to strangers on hotel balconies; or they can be stubborn revolutionary demagogues rubbing shoulders with sundry KGB, CIA, IRA, ETA operatives. Yet, all this has the effect of doing is casting the Arab characters as sophisticated zealots. And because of their ideological zealotry they are disqualified from being considered near the top of the dialectical food chain, according to Kushner’s moral rubric.

Krauthammer believes that Islamic terrorists (Palestinians included, one would gather) have qualified as an “existential” threat to the West, on par with the Soviets and the Nazis. Therefore, we must take special exception to any complex presentation of an historical event that might not be easily digestible to the masses. God forbid, “those people” have to see an Arab character who translates books and is nice to his local grocer get shot by “heartless” Jews: that’s just too much of a dramatic burden for audiences to process. Furthermore, Krauthammer finds it necessary to interpret the complexity of the film in ways that bolsters it as anti-Zionist, then maybe anti-Semitic, and then unreflectively advancing the Palestinian cause (oh, my!). This is precisely the problem: attacking the complexity of the film is a deficient project when it is evident that the film is not complex enough, because of its default sympathy for “enlightened” Westerners.

Krauthammer cringes that the film expresses an opinion of the moral bankruptcy of the Israeli cause because of the cross-section of characters in Munich. He’s missing the deeper questions Kushner is raising in an effort make sure that he as the Western screenwriter is still practicing self-conscious doubt. For themes relevant to Kushner’s work, characters like Avner’s mom or Avner’s handler, Ephraim, or The Organization’s Papa, demonstrate Kushner’s questioning of the Palestinian and Israeli priority on a literal, ground-beneath-one’s-feet home, instead of the home humans abstractly create with one another (think of how Avner locates home when in the hospital with his wife: he kisses her and says he is home when he is with her). Now many intelligent people disagree with this notion, but for reasons that are more fundamental to human interaction than how they reconcile the crisis in the Middle East.

Attacks on the film have been made on many fronts. There’s the problem of Spielberg and Kushner having the audacity to take artistic license with historical events. The response to these criticisms is to encourage healthy tit-for-tat arguments about interpretations of art, which happen in all sorts of private conversations after watching a film (Like a few years ago: is it better to think of Black Hawk Down as a realistic war pic, or as a meditation on man, technology, and post-industrial warfare, or dismiss it as mediocre?). Concurrently, Munich aspires to be appreciated on the level of solemn political treatise, or more appropriately due to the film’s editing rhythms, a religious ritual. All of that to say that the Good Friday-sobriety of the film makes it something to be avoided by those who dislike recent American pop-art’s throat-clearing and “I’m saying something important, here” sermonizing (damn, there’s been a lot of that recently).

All of this is to contextualize the extent to which I admired and enjoyed Munich. It is the first time Spielberg has executed his signature technical style, but has sacrificed many of his comfortable storytelling devices in order to create a film that engages many social, political, and moral issues with a clinical and academic rigor that is rare in pop art. And to his credit, he allowed the film to be seen through the residue of Tony Kushner’s creative fingerprints. And, no matter the potential foibles or merits of Kushner’s moral hierarchy, he is one of the most rewarding and challenging wordsmiths in the English language. Condemn him for being too wedded to the idea that the West is dialectically advanced, but don’t confuse his writing’s confusion with complacency in contemporary political narratives.

Best Music of 2005

2005-12-05T11:49:00.000-08:00

by Steven Rybicki

Alright, it’s that time of year: have to get these lists out before the rest of those online journalists. Unfortunately, it’s the only way to ensure your authenticity and integrity as a dedicated music connoisseur.

Best Records of 2005

1. Black Sheep Boy and Appendix by Okkervil River
2. The Forgotten Arm by Aimee Mann
3. Wind in the Wires by Patrick Wolf
4. Illinois(e) by Sufjan Stevens
5. Apologies to the Queen by Wolf Parade
6. Alligator by The National
7. I am a Bird Now by Antony and the Johnsons
8. Silent Alarm by Bloc Party
9. Cold Roses by Ryan Adams and the Cardinals
10. Picaresque by The Decemberists
11. Arular by M.I.A.
12. Clap Your Hands Say Yeah by Clap Your Hands Say Yeah
13. The Woods by Sleater-Kinney
14. Broken Social Scene by Broken Social Scene
15. Woman King by Iron & Wine
16. Separation Sunday by The Hold Steady
17. Gimme Fiction by Spoon
18. Twin Cinema by The New Pornographers
19. Demon Days by Gorillaz
20. Think Differently Music: Wu-Tang Meets the Indie Culture by Various Artists
21. E.P. by The Fiery Furnaces
22. Z by My Morning Jacket
23. Coles Corner by Richard Hawley
24. X&Y by Coldplay
25. Pick Us Apart by The Jim Yoshii Pile-Up

Best Songs of 2005

1. “Video” by Aimee Mann
2. “Jezebel” by Iron & Wine
3. “This Modern Love” by Bloc Party
4. “The Greatest” by Cat Power
5. “The Engine Driver” by The Decemberists
6. “Casimir Pulaski Day” by Sufjan Stevens
7. “Beautiful Sorta” by Ryan Adams and the Cardinals
8. “Sons and Daughters of Hungry Ghosts” by Wolf Parade
9. “Sunshowers” by M.I.A.
10. “Hope There’s Someone” by Antony and the Johnsons
11. “Lion Tamer” by Damien Jurado
12. “Traffic” by Chad VanGaalen
13. “Your Ever Changing Moods” by Summer at Shatter Creek
14. “The Fox” by Sleater-Kinney
15. “Liquid Swords” by GZA and Ras Kass
16. “C C (You Set Fire to Me)” by Tom Vek
17. “Gold Digger” by Kanye West
18. “Just a Lil Bit” by 50 Cent
19. “Your Little Hood Rat Friend” by The Hold Steady
20. “We Both Go Down Together” by The Decemberists
21. “John Wayne Gacy, Jr.” by Sufjan Stevens
22. “Window Shopper” by 50 Cent
23. “Chicago” by Sufjan Stevens
24. “For Real” by Okkervil River
25. “Do It Again” by Nada Surf
26. “Walk Away” by Franz Ferdinand
27. “Only” by Nine Inch Nails
28. “it’s all gonna break” by Broken Social Scene
29. “Landlocked Blues” by Bright Eyes
30. “A Toast to the Happy Couple” by The Jim Yoshii Pile-Up
31. “The Two Sides of Monsieur Valentine” by Spoon
32. “Mr. November” by The National
33. “ibi dreams of pavement (a better day)” by Broken Social Scene
34. Those Ying Yang Twins singles… the Ben Folds cover of Dr. Dre… both are catchy in their own way. The core of the former is just soulless, capitalist, misogynist, exploitive, nasty (etc., insert all those self-righteous adjectives) garbage. In the latter, Mr. Folds adds irony… oh, wow, didn’t Dynamite Hack trip on that whole formula (gangsta rap+white boy pretension=an “irony” riddled muddle of a stunt) seven or eight years ago? I guess Ben was busy crying about "his" abortion.

Of Special Note:

Live @ the Fillmore by Lucinda Williams
No Direction Home by Bob Dylan
Kicking Television by Wilco

You must own the originals, but the live reconfigurations are worth the time and coin.

Spoiling For A Fight: The Miers Nomination

2005-10-17T17:28:00.000-07:00

by Steven Rybicki

“In the course of my life I have taken part in many wars, and I see among you people of the age as I am. They and I have had experience, and so are not likely to share in what may be a general enthusiasm for war, nor to think that war is a good or a safe thing”

- King Archidamus recounted by Thucydides in
“The Debate at Sparta and Declaration of War 432” in
The History of the Peloponnesian War

With the announcement of Harriet Miers as President Bush’s nomination for Associate Justice on the Supreme Court, there has been a vocally disappointed reaction from some wings of the social conservative movement. It is too early to tell if this reaction will be widespread. Additionally, how will this reaction be reconciled and/or assuaged. Already Vice President Cheney appeared on Rush Limbaugh’s show to gently remind angered social conservatives that Bush has fought hard for them with his nominations to the federal appellate courts and won’t let them down now.

The voiced objection is: “we (the social conservatives) can’t wait to fight them (a liberal opposition?) and please, please, please give us a shot.” And there’s also the implicit suggestion: “If you don’t provide us a fight, there will be consequences…”

I have recently had some drive time with some school related commuting and have been curious to listen to what’s new in talk radio, and I’ve found myself listening to Laura Ingram. Ingram is crusading to find “the” next conservative leader who will lead social conservatives into battle against a vague socio-politico-ideological behemoth on the left. She points to the failures of the Republican political leadership to think outside of the paradigm of a majority party trying to keep power. She’s upset that the leaders of the party tie their ideological positions to those shared by Dick Cheney (a domestic libertarian and foreign policy hawk) and Bill Kristol (a “big as the government ‘needs to be’ conservative” as he expressed last month at Harvard). She likens the current leadership vs. rank-and-file disjunction to the late 70s when the moderate Fords, Bushes, and Rockerfellers dominated the mechanisms of party. She thinks social conservatives are in a position to induce outrage from the silent supermajority of Americans and can harness that outrage into progress for their agenda.

This piece is meant to be an opening salvo to elicit discourse and debate on this topic. At no point do I wish to appear as “knowing” what specific solution is best, but I genuinely believe this vein of questions needs to be opened up. Also, before I go forward I wish to recognize some of my built in assumptions:

1.) This reaction from some quarters of the social conservative movement is indicative of some deeper resentment and longing for a fight.
2.) Laura Ingram’s show is an apt representative of the sentiments of many American, social conservatives.

Of course, with my Stace(y)ist background of Mansfield’s Machiavelli (and now Althusser’s), and with the emphasis of Thucydides in my International Relations class, I’ve been thinking of this issue through the prism of some specific terms. Therefore, I want to bring up two issues about these social conservatives who wish to engage in some public battle for the hearts and minds of the American people and at the same time establish a claim of a rightly orthodox, popularly adhered to, American ideology.

I want to suggest one fundamental political axiom that should be addressed: do you fight only when you believe in your model of how and why you will win? Or do you fight for the sake of a fight, without paying special attention to indicators that other people use to determine the constitution and execution of that war? My reading of Machiavelli encourages me to believe the former statement. I wish to argue that you only fight when you know you are going to win on the terms you have chosen before you go all Wu-Tang and bring the ruckus. And at this point, social conservatives are not in a position to fight for their cause because they do not know what victory looks like.

The social conservatives lack a vision of victory and this relates directly to their lack of a rigorously conceived ideological position (remember this isn’t the same thing as a rigorously pursued ideological position… the social conservatives have got that down, for the most part). The problem is the ability for the social conservatives to evaluate the formation and execution of their ideology and it can be parsed into two connected dilemmas: one is a general ideological problem; the other, created by the first, is a specific political problem.

Social conservatives adopted the mode of political progressivism many years ago. It had been coming since TR and Wilson governmentally reified their social goals in the early twentieth century. But progressivism became central to how many social conservatives viewed politics as a result of the brush with massive national government of the Reagan Administration. Now they are caught in the practice of addressing economic, social, political problems with the vocabulary, and proposed remedy, of centralization of power to the national government. Ideologically, traditional, conservative, decentralization of all forms is no longer consistently and coherently advocated. Thus, this forms the basis for the theoretical problem.

The general ideological problem stems from the social conservative movement’s inability to privately justify and explain their beliefs. Social conservatives stubbornly resist understanding where their ideological program stands in relation to an intellectual tradition and in relation to larger social structures. Writers like Eric Voegelin, Michael Oakeshott, and Russell Kirk rooted twentieth century conservatism in an exploration of different philosophical and political traditions. It is not apparent whether these writers are still vital for today’s social conservatives. Currently, excepting those wonderful ISIers, the works of those aforementioned men have been eschewed for a new harvest of sophisticated theses best summarized as: how to argue like a petulant child against those with whom you disagree. Ask the current crop of Young Republicans and CPACers what they read and you get Anne Coulter, not Hannah Arendt. And God forbid you mention Sandel, Berry, and the communitarian movement around those groups…

What does this mean? Well, it means that social conservatives cannot locate and give an account of their ideological commitments within the greater social structures that influence our lives. Regarding capitalism: what type of considerations and/or precautions do we take with the West transitioning into a post-industrial society; how does one, and how ought one, politically reconcile the market system’s drive for consumption and materialism? Regarding nationalism: what is the status of the nation-state; what is the status of the right of national self-determination; what are goals for how national self-interest be defined and interpreted? Regarding democracy: does democracy indicate civil progress; what are the challenges to democracy and do they have any merit?

Contemporary social conservatives are stuck, because they have not considered these questions. This is the stuff of pomo-ist, Marxist, critical theorist (and types of those degenerate “intellectuals”) masturbatory academic games. Concurrently, those who have and do are regarded as engaging in a peripheral, superfluous, and, in some extreme cases, a regressive endeavor. And if you disagree, I patiently ask you demonstrate where these questions are seriously contemplated? I can think of writers like Peter Augustine Lawler, Robert P. George, Daryl Hart, and many others at ISI or the work of First Things…but where else… and do these voices even matter to the political leaders of the social conservative movement?

The political problem with the ideology of the social conservatives is they are unable to distinguish the degree to which their political leaders demonstrate ideological verisimilitude. An example of this is social conservatives do not seem to have a good reference point to evaluate the ideological commitments of the Bush Administration. The American Left is deeply confused about conservatism. They are unwilling or unable to distinguish between the different vintages of the movement, and as such, have chronically suffered from misinformed diagnoses of the ideological diversity in the Bush Administration. Astoundingly, social conservatives have accepted the left’s deficient terms. As an offering of mild corrective to these social conservatives: just because Moveon.org, the ACLU, or ANSWER believe and attack Bush, and his cabinet, as being extreme American rightists, doesn’t mean it’s true. This is valuable to remember because most social conservatives seem to forget that Dick Cheney is a social libertarian (hello, the 2000 and 2004 debates!), Rumsfeld has vacillated between a vaguely leftist positions and social libertarianism, Condoleeza and Colin Powell are moderates on many social issues (for these claims check out Rise of the Vulcans by James Mann).

Ignoring the crucial process of how Karl Rove brilliantly executed neighborhood-by-neighborhood campaigning in swing states, President Bush won his re-election on the fact that he was able to energize under-voting demographics (like the evangelicals) to vote for him. But what did he win on? How about a perceived competency to prosecute his vision for a war on terrorism and better positioning than Kerry on some general social issues like “gay marriage”? But, keep in mind, Bush’s opposition to the gay relationships being officially sanctioned by the national government as “marriages” is better defined as a popular, moderate view in the US, than a principled, “by any means necessary” ideological commitment. So as wrongheaded as the attacks on President Bush are by the American Left (Al Gore through Al Franken) the social conservatives have been gullible to accept those terms and assumptions. And this gullibility stems directly from the social conservatives lacking a coherent, sturdy ideological position.

So how does this ideological discontinuity manifest itself in the Supreme Court considerations? Well, lets act like social conservatives and talk about abortion. For instance, we’re hearing a lot about Roe vs. Wade. So, let’s call the question for social conservatives: is it more of a priority for Roe vs. Wade be overturned so that each state may vote whether to allow abortion in its borders, or is abortion a moral injustice so great that it must be nationally prohibited and criminalized? Is there a plan of action for this issue? Figures like Bill Kristol and Justice Scalia advocate a state-by-state consideration of this issue. However, when push comes to shove on the abortion issue, are the social conservatives instead hoping for a progressive, centralized “solution” to issue of abortion in the US? Or would they, indeed, opt for decentralization? If social conservatives in general support the progressive position, how will they advocate their goals of criminalization of abortion when fighting this ‘war to end all wars’ with the left? How, and for how long, can they consistently articulate an advocacy for one position or another?

This is not a zero sum argument in this article: being skeptical of the endorsed tactics of some on the right does not result with praise of the current tactical choices of the left. In fact, I think the Democratic Party is facing a similar problem with problems with the base reconciling its ideology with itself and the party-at-large. Rush Limbaugh’s October 17th op-ed expresses this view quite nicely, and Christopher Hitchens’s dispatches from the past two months have exposed the extreme left’s own ideological desolation.

But I do have this quibble with Rush: for Judge Bork, Anne Coulter, Sean Hannity, etc. to just criticize the President for not igniting a social right vs. (the ambiguously defined) left, and, in fact, do their best to manifest an upheaval within the Republican Party, is a miscalculation. The social conservatives have some policy initiatives with a popular voting bloc that can, and possibly will, devastate leftist politicians. But I must stress: this does not alleviate the problem of social conservatives not possessing a rigorously considered ideology. Maybe some will argue that my concern is misdirected, because as long as one keeps winning in the near and intermediate future, the long-term future will take care of itself. Well, this is a valid rebuttal, but I do not find it convincing or satisfying: just a rationalization for why social conservatives don’t know what victory looks like.

Instead of lamenting the loss of an opportunity for a brawl, why don’t social conservatives instead, internally and publicly, make a case for how they would fight, who they would fight with and for, what fronts are expendable, which are imperative to maintain or acquire, and where they would fight these battles. Social conservatives, while they may be able to dominate a battle in the Republican presidential primary, don’t have the tools or perspective to consciously fight a major confrontation for a drastic social paradigm shift.

Sun Tzu made it clear in The Art of War that he believed that it is the mark of a better general to make the other side surrender without having to engage in physical combat. It is very strange that some quarters of the social conservatives are so anxious to fight that they are willfully disrupting their internal political coalition. But without a thoughtfully enumerated plan or vision of what victory looks like, how could they do anything else?

Ear to the Ground:

2005-09-23T16:17:00.000-07:00

Dispatches from the Monterey Jazz Festival
by Steven Rybicki

I.

Friday

I finally get jazz!!

It’s been a cumulative thing, but I think after enough thought and experience, it makes sense. I have been listening to jazz since my uncles gave me a set of Chet Baker and Miles Davis records in junior high. I would tell people that I listened to jazz because it seemed to garner respect: the truly hip and smart people listen to jazz. Yet, when I reach for a record to listen to in my car or while writing a paper I am still unable to just groove to jazz records.

A few weeks ago I was at a Wrens concert in Denton, Texas. There I met the lead singer of the Wrens, Charles Bissell. In the course of our conversation, we discussed different genres of music and jazz came up. Charles talked about how he made concrete bonds as a jazz fan by altering his understanding of jazz: just as painters use color, jazz artists use the notes on the treble and bass clefts. I had also heard “how” jazz differentiates itself: jazz musicians “bend” notes and play around with rhythm. Rhythmically, they bend and break beats; they hear, read into, interpret, and make the silences malleable. He then jumped into an analogy of understanding jazz records in terms of Rothko and French Impressionism.

I had heard all of these things, but last night I got it.

Last night was the first night at the 48th annual Monterey Jazz Festival. In that evening, I saw John Scofield with his Uberjazz band, Carla Bley playing her National Anthem inversions, and legend Sonny Rollins play the main stage of the Monterey Fair Grounds. And my opinion changed. Jazz is about people who play instruments with incredible facility and applying that prowess to exhibit the limitlessness of boundaries in music.

It’s no sentimental exaggeration to suggest jazz is uniquely American because of its emphasis on individual talent and achievement: there is the trumpet player, saxophone player, piano player, drummer, bass player, trombonist, etc. Each of these musicians displays their prowess through solos in the set. They are judged by audience approval, and in any given group one musician might be able to outshine the others in terms of popularity.

Oh, and by the way… walking out of the festival Friday, Nels Cline, guitarist for Wilco on a ghost is born, was hanging out at the Tower Records store meeting, greeting, and pimping his jazz project, The Nels Cline Singers (the new record features Jon Brion… eat your heart out Kanye).

II.

Saturday

The big act tonight was the festival’s centerpiece performance by Tony Bennett. Yes, I have now seen Tony Bennett work a crowd, doing his bit.

Kent and I were in our seats early in the main stage pavilion. We wanted to see Carla Bley premier her new big band piece, “Appearing Nightly at the Black Orchid”. Sitting before the stage sent my mind spinning… back to rock-n-roll. This was the stage that Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, and The Who tore up at the Monterey Pop Festival thirty years ago.

Anyway, enough diversions. Bley’s set was rich, as expected, but Keith and Kent were not as impressed with her Black Orchid as they were by her intimate quintet the night before. Then Clint was up. Eastwood walked on stage wearing a bright red blazer, which indicated his membership on the MJF board or directors. Clint thanked the audience for their attendance and asked for donations for hurricane Katrina relief. Then it was time for Tony. The curtain opened and Bennett was front and center, surrounded by a band of five. He’s 79 years old and his voice is weaker, but the crowd adored him. Keith told us that during “I Left My Heart In San Francisco” the crowd was on their feet, gently swaying to the beat and reverently singing along with the icon.

But Kent and I weren’t as observant. We wandered off during Bennett’s set to see and amazing baritone jazz vocalist, Andy Bey. This turned out to be my favorite performance of the weekend. Bey’s set was packed. Kent and I had to wait in line for ten minutes to get into the venue. Bey’s set in was driven by an amazing bass player, but was memorable for the Bey’s vocals. Between singing “scattish” syllables and his standard compositions, Bey worked through traditional and experimental arrangements. The highlight of the night began with Bey quietly introducing his next to last piece, a work by “English composer Nick Drake.” He sang River Man by Drake and left the audience stunned. Just beautiful.

Earlier that day we dropped by Dizzy’s Den to check out an interview with Branford Marsalis. Branford was the Monterey Jazz Society’s resident artist this year and was the subject of much attention at the festival. During the interview he explained his perspective on the status jazz in American culture. Two salient features of the interviews were his discussion of jazz versus other musical genres, and his analysis of how music is distributed and absorbed by today’s youth culture.

His first point was about the difference between jazz and hip-hop/rock-n-roll: the bass controls the rhythm in jazz and drums control the rhythm in the other two genres. Drums in jazz function as a part of the harmony, even when jazz drummers are featured soloists they are functioning as any other instrument, and are not controlling the rhythm. This was another paradigm shift for my musical appreciation: it’s probably very elementary and I am a dope for not “getting” it before now, but hey…

Branford shifted to the problem with young jazz musicians: they know too much theory but don’t listen to any records!! They read the sheet music for Coltrane’s A Love Supreme, but they rarely let the record play and enjoy the fact that they are listening to Coltrane. A remedy for this is to get the jazz kids to do what the indie kids do: download, rip, and distribute music with each other. Get excited about hearing new records. He explained when he was in college no one could afford to buy every record they wanted, to they found a way to cooperatively buy one record and bootleg that record for a dozen people on cassette. His response to “what about the industry’s war on piracy?”: it’s sad that corporations feel the need to sue 12-year old girls to “recoup” money. The record industries have continually rejected the innovation of technology and continue to pay for their myopia and greed. Their only solution, to sue those two technological steps ahead is foolish, and these companies are enabling their own permanent demise. Solidarity, Branford!!!

III.

Sunday

Last day of the festival.

We came early to see the Carla Bley interview. It was nice to see her up-close, and describe her creative process, but nothing profound or exciting was uttered in those ninety minutes. Keith and Kent’s associate, Jason was on a later panel about the status of jazz in the record industry. Long and short story: the major record companies will not buy/sell jazz, and if you sign up with indie labels they will suck you dry and screw you out of your masters. Oookaaaaay, anyone ready for dinner?

The festival was winding down. There were two performances left that Kent, Keith, Gladys and I wanted to see: Madeline Peyroux and Pat Metheny. Pat’s a very famous jazz guitarist and is incredibly talented. But Madeline was the showstopper for me that night. Her set was too long (we ended up leaving after an hour), and the chemistry of the group didn’t seem to be working that well, but Madeline’s voice is beautiful in the tradition of Billie Holiday. Her detached demeanor and voice heartbreakingly into the crisp night air of Monterey. We were there for her Patsy Cline cover, stuff from her first record, and then… then she began her own version of Elliott Smith’s “Between the Bars”. The voice of Billie and the words of Elliott:

drink up baby, stay up all night
with the things you could do, you won’t but you might
the potential you’ll be that you’ll never see
the promises you’ll only make
drink up with me now and forget all about he pressure of days
do what I say and I’ll make you okay and drive them away
the images stuck in your head
people you’ve been before that you don’t want around anymore
that push and shove and won’t bend to your will
I’ll keep them still
drink up baby, look at the star, I’ll kiss you again
between the bars where I’m seeing you
there with your hands in the air waiting to finally be caught
drink up one more time and I’ll make you mine
keep you apart deep in my heart separate from the rest
where I like you best
and keep the things you forgot
the people you’ve been before that you don’t want around anymore
that push and shove and won’t bend to your will
I’ll keep them still

Ear to the Ground:

2005-08-22T15:07:00.000-07:00

Dan Bern
by Steven Rybicki

On my recent trip to the Bay Area, my uncles introduced me to the music of a prolific singer/songwriter named Dan Bern. Bern was in the middle of a three-week stand in San Francisco. A die-hard Giants fan, Bern had been given tickets to see a stretch of games at SBC Park and was concurrently booked for a three-week set at a venue in SF’s Mission district. I caught his second show wherein he played for almost two hours. He’s a tall guy with broad shoulders and his build reminds me of an over the hill linebacker. He’s an affable stage personality, but his congenial stoner-gaze did wear on me after a while. Bern’s discography is varied between simple acoustic releases to polished lps with a full band.

His lyrics are stories, thoughts, and comments. He doesn’t have the stream of conscious dazzle of Bob Dylan, but vocally he conjures the great one with his similar nasal tone: a higher pitched version of Mike Ness, perhaps. Public personas dominate many of his songs. References to Kurt Cobain, Timothy McVeigh, Marilyn Monroe, Henry Miller, Pete Rose and many others figure into his concise stories.

One of his strongest tracks is “God Said No” from his record New American Language. It’s a reflection on the importance of the past, yet the hollowness and conceitedness of nostalgia. In the song, Bern meets God “ where the wind meets stillness/where darkness meets the light /where the ocean meets the sky/where the desert meets the rain/where the earth meets the heaven/on the edge of town.” He asks three favors of God: to go back in time and save two lives, Kurt Cobain and Jesus Christ, and extinguish one life, Hitler.

He attempts to impress God by begging to disarm and comfort Kurt: “take away his guns… talk to him/make him want to live/tell him I would love him/help him see his glory”. God said no, “if you really found him/you would only ask him/if he could help you get a deal/if he has a lawyer/if he could help you”. Dan asks for the chance to murder Hitler. God says no, “you would get caught up with theory and discussion/would let your fears delay and distract you/you would make friends/you would take a lover”. Dan’s final request is for the chance to interact with a divinity again: to save Jesus. This poignant inversion of the orthodox “Jesus saves” is accented with Dan’s promise to “pull the iron” from his body, to “try to heal his wounds.” Go said no, “if I let you go/if you really found him… you would stare/tongue no longer working/eyes no longer seeing/ears no longer hearing.” God responds by dismissing his pleas with an answer (nonanswer?) that Dan will not “go back in time” because time is God’s “secret weapon” against humans and walks away. A beautiful, cryptic ending to the song.

“God Said No” corresponds to conundrums of human acknowledgement of a past and a future, and the resulting anxiety about death. But he also considers the mystery and power of what elements persist and confound the rational, modern experience. Something drives the narrator’s desire to preserve the physical frame of Cobain, but also would push him to use Cobain like a member of the Nirvana entourage. Something primal fuels his outrage over the atrocities of Hitler, but he willingly would temper his instincts with the opportunity to reflect on fear, ideas, and become enraptured by Nazi patriotism. Saving Jesus would be quite a coup in terms of Christian theology, but he recognizes the chance to see Christ, with or without belief in the resurrection, would be daunting because of the tradition and following stemming from this event. He is also open to the possibility he would encounter a God beyond explanation, sight, thought: rational and irrational.

But Bern also has a sense of humor. One of his celebrity packed tunes on his record Dan Bern, “To Late To Die” Bern proposes that Elvis died to late. Unlike the people who went at the right time (James Dean) America “breathed a sigh of relief” at what we knew was his “mercy killing”. He turns to Pete Rose and Marlon Brando to further validate his theory that certain people missed their opportunity to graciously die young. In another song, “Marilyn”, also on Dan Bern, he pines for the opportunity for Marilyn Monroe to be rescued by Henry Miller and taken to Paris to enjoy copious amounts of affection, sex, opium and “would still be alive” because she would “feel like a woman, not a photograph in a magazine”.

In the Mission, Bern put on an “okay” show for his second week set. He didn’t play many songs from his more successful records. Instead, the prologue for many of his tunes included phrases along the lines of, “a few weeks ago I was”, “I’m still working on this melody”, “the chorus isn’t right yet”, and “I just finished this song about it.” Yet it’s Bern is a good folk experience right now. Go see him when he comes to your town, he plays a robust set. Hell, just get him some tickets to a baseball game and you’ll probably have yourself a date with your very own singer/songwriter.

Welcome!

2005-07-31T18:45:00.000-07:00

You have found the official blog of the Alexis de Tocqueville Society. We're glad you came. The Alexis de Tocqueville Society is a student-led, voluntary association which seeks to facilitate discussion and further critical reflection among the student body of Patrick Henry College. The Society strives to foster a spirit of intellectual inquiry and rigor through the publication of a journal, Notes on the Times, and the invitation of noted thinkers and speakers to lecture on a variety of topics.

Below are archived versions of Notes on the Times from the last academic year stored on this blog.

May 2005
November 2004
September 2004

Notes on the Times May 2005

2005-05-15T23:00:00.000-07:00

Be a Man not a Mama's Boy
By Prof. Erik Root

The Radical in Rome
By Dr. Anthony Esolen

How to Read the Bible Redemptive-historically
By Jeff Cavanaugh

MTV and Democracy
By Julia Rybicki

Love and Philology: The Necessity of Christian Ideology
By Travis Timmons

Knee-jerk Ideology and Reflective Argument
By David J. Shaw

Heaven is Full of People
By Zac Gappa

Roll with It
By Steven Rybicki

Table Manners, Gender Wars, and Democracy: A Few Thoughts on Modern Etiquette
By Brianna Springer

My Pleasure
By Tim Hoskins

The Art of Tip Baiting
By Micah Towery

Back to issues
Back to main

Be a Man not a Mama's Boy

2005-05-15T22:00:00.000-07:00

By Prof. Erik S. Root
In Perpetual Peace, Immanuel Kant makes a connection between war and chivalry. Of course, Kant despises all of this because he dislikes war. He loathes war to such an extent he wants to stamp it out completely, along with valor and chivalry. However, a part of eliminating the reality of war means making men unmanly in spirit. While we might disagree with Kant's Utopian idea, he seems to understand that there is something about chivalry and valor that is manly (properly understood). Is there something about military valor that encourages and trains men to be chivalrous? Women on the left disdain anything that smacks of a distinction between the sexes—such is their desire for complete equality. Feminists are sometimes more manly than men. However, more troubling, is that the so called Christian right is increasingly adopting such leftist thought—they hate manly displays of valor, and, yet, long for a chivalrous male. They cannot have both. In effect, many men are becoming effeminate and sensitive and the effect of inculcating those traits in men could spell doom for the Union.
In one of Plato's forgotten dialogues, Laches, wefind a discussion on courage, or manliness. Of course,like many of the Platonic works, we do not actuallyarrive at a conclusion, or a definitive answer as towhat it is. However, we are struck by the reason forthe debate: there are some who ridicule the practiceof men who engage in armored fighting or combat.Two of the characters in the dialogue, Lysimachus andMelesias, are distraught because they are ashamedtheir fathers let them live a "soft life." According toLysimachus, there is something "noble for a youth tolearn fighting in armor." The discussion turns quicklyto education and its role in developing courageousmen. Another interlocutor, Nicias, asserts that gymnastics and horsemanship benefits "free" men becauseit instructs them in matters of contest and war, defending oneself, and finally in the "noble study" of "ordersand battle." Nicias then sums up the benefits of thistraining: " • r ^ " T • • !
We shall further attribute to it no small addition: this knowledge would make every man in war not a little more confident
and more courageous than himself. And let us not consider it dishonorable to say—even if to someone it seems to be a rather small thing—that the man will also appear more graceful and where at the same time he will appear more terrible to the enemies through his gracefulness.
This passage is even more important when we consider that in the Greek, avopeiog, the word for courageous (which appears for the first time in the dialogue), comes from the word avrp meaning man. The meaning of the word avSpeta may be rendered manliness. Somehow, then, there is a relationship between courage and manliness. Furthermore, Socrates' interlocutors seem to agree that courage is one of the most prominent public virtues. As Socrates is ever wont to do, he inconspicuously directs his interlocutors to a consideration of higher things. The discussion of the Laches thus proceeds to a discussion of the soul—and courage is apart of a well ordered soul.
As the discussion moves into this realm of utmost importance, the characters of the dialogue begin to utter several oaths—"By Zeus," "by the gods," etc. When we are considering the whole, the gods are invoked and reason and the divine come together. Could it be that the divine supplements or completes our reason? Nevertheless, Socrates seems to affirm that the education of armor fighting provides an avenue in which young men might learn courage. Of course, Socrates is interested in the isness of courage, and it appears that:
He who does fitting things concerning human beings would do just things; and concerning gods, pious things; and he who does just and pious things must of necessity be just and pious. These things are so. And indeed, of necessity, courageous as well. For it is not the part of moderate man either to pursue or flee things that are not fitting, but to flee and to pursue what he ought—affairs, human beings, pleasures, and pains—and to abide and be steadfast whenever he ought.
In order to cut to the chase, the Laches affirms that the courageous man fights and stays in the ranks; he places a high value on duty to the city and the fatherland. Ultimately, ridicule and disgrace, nay, femininity in men, is more terrible than the risk of death. We need courage to defend the just and pious things. If this virtue is not installed in men, they will not have the character to defend the country when the need is most necessary. If we are to have courageous men in war—in anything—we must educate and train them to be courageous in peace.
In The Republic, Plato fixes the spirited (Su^oc;) part of our nature to courage. While spiritedness may be the seat of anger, Socrates seems to want to make it a "loyal ally of reason" and he "rebukes" the "irrationally spirited." It is true that spiritedness may be savage or tame, yet Socrates tries to find a way to harmonize the extremes in order to moderate man. Specifically, if spiritedness may be employed in service of reason, then it may be properly moderated. Nevertheless, courage is one of the qualities a city needs for its health, and for its survival.
The genuine confusion over what it means to be courageous has bewildered many Christians who feel uneasy about the war against those who supported the terrible acts of 9/11. This trepidation might not bode well for the Union. Leo Strauss, assessing Machia-velli, asserted that Christians were weak in this world. Men were ready to die for salvation than to do the same for justice. Christianity not only led to an undermining of loyalty to country, but it often lead to a non-resistance of evil. Rousseau agreed. Christianity preached servitude and he thought that it had a favorable disposition to tyranny. As a result, he concluded that "Christians are made to be slaves." If there was one area where Machiavelli found Christianity not lacking, it was in pious cruelty. Christian spiritedness flourished in this one area—and it lead to theocratic despotism. Machiavelli seems correct in one sense: the Inquisition and other examples of religious persecution have existed in Christendom. Is Machiavelli right? Is Christianity of the same variety it was in his day? Can Christianity support political liberty, and can it moderate its own particular spiritedness?
America has a rich history of Christian support for liberty and this was most evident at the Founding. Protestants embraced a warlike manliness and "regarded reason no less than revelation as-a gift of God." Failure to cultivate both leads to disaster as it did for Nicias who trusted divination more than his manly spirit thus leading to military defeat. According to the great Jewish philosopher Maimonides, the reason for the Jewish captivity was the sin of their turning
to astrology which taught them that their "fate was dependent on the heavens rather than on studying and practicing the art of war." In contrast, Protestantism found its heft from a type of manliness. It took much courage to stand up against the Catholic church.
Perhaps a sampling of a few sermons from the Founding era would suffice to demonstrate that a manly Christianity did exist. Nathaniel Whittaker preached in 1777:
Every soldier...pray for those he endeavors to destroy, and wish them their best, their eternal good. These are no more inconsistent in a soldier, engaging in a battle and doing his best to kill his enemies, than they are in a judge and executioner, who take away a murderer from the earth...How absurd then is the pretense that the gospel of Jesus Christ forbids us to take up arms to defend ourselves!
Or how about this from Samuel Davies in 1758:
When [our enemies] would enslave the freeborn mind and compel us meanly to cringe to usurpation and arbitrary power; ...what is then the will of God? Must peace then be maintained? Maintained at the expense of property, liberty, life, and everything dear and valuable?...No; in such time even the God of Peace proclaims by His providence, 'To arms!' Then the sword is, as it were, consecrated to God; and the art of war becomes a part of our religion.
Several more examples could be added here, but the selections ought to weigh on us. How was it that Christians were able to speak like this from the pulpit? Part of the reason these sermons have fallen out of fashion results from the modern rejection of the enlightenment; many Christians consider it to be too secular, or too atheistic, to be trusted. While leftists reject the enlightenment because of their post-modern proclivities, the Christian right rejects it because it does not sufficiently invoke revelation. In that both groups reject the reasonableness of man, they are allies. However, even Aquinas trusted our God given abilities. He sanctioned just wars and the right to revolution. The enlightenment of the Founders found in Protestantism a manly Christianity worth preserving. The result of their heroic efforts set about making the Union the first nation that was founded in explicit opposition to Machiavellian principles. If we utilize all of our God-given abilities, we might be able to reason about this together. We might note that we face challenges in the Christian community and that those challenges do affect the character of our men and of our nation. There are some things we must overcome, however, to stem the modern tide.
The modern male seems to have two characteristics. He is either a barbarian or a wimp. Barbaric boys are quite crude. They wear the same type of clothes in all situations, curse in public and expect to be lauded for it, talk loudly, and have off-color names for girls, etc. They are over confrontational and they might like to fight too much. They are consumed by spiritedness; their 6^(^05 is undirected by reason.
Wimps have none of these problems. They are in some ways men without chests. They lack Sufioc; and shriek at self-assertion. They are not ambitious and they are in need of confidence. They lack the strength to act and when they do act, it is not in a manly way. If they have a problem with someone, another man for instance, they do not confront that man, but retreat from confrontation, or they find another more passive avenue to effect some end or right some perceived wrong.
The manly male is opposed to mere aggression. His chivalry seeks honor by being protective of women, and the fairer sex feels respected when they are protected; Manly men more properly respect women who properly understand, and desire, chivalry. How does this translate into national politics? Americans defend their country because they respect it. America is respectable because, even today, America's Founding, and her people, generally understand there is such a thing as good and evil, and that good is worth protecting while evil is not. Manly men, then, demonstrate courage when they are defending something worth defending. However, the sensitive male does not think about protection and defense in this sense. The sensitive man must see things from the woman's perspective. How many times have we heard supposed men exclaim that we ought not to invade Afghanistan or Iraq, but should "understand" our enemy—as if that would stay future violence from the party of terror?
The chivalrous, and gallant, male opens the door for women, which is a show of strength, but the wom-
an goes in first. This order might say something about the true nature of the relationship—the man is the head but the woman is the neck—but women only get that treatment from manly men. The sexes are complimentary under these conditions. Women, though, will not find a sensitive man being chivalrous, but the women will be "understood" by the sensitive man. Manly men are "romantic about women," but the unmanly men are merely "sensitive" about women: "which is better? which is better for women?" The sensitive, and wimpy, male, then, is the unnatural male; he is the unmale. He has nothing of manly value to offer the true woman (a woman who either left or right is not trying to exert something like The Feminine Mystique upon all those who surround her). Aristotle believes that, for the most part, men are courageous and women are moderate. It is up to both, as complimentary beings in society, to fashion it into a quality that is virtuous.
Women may not understand men, all their silly expressions, and their "battles in armor," but a properly ordered manliness is what the country needs to defend itself, and to defend the orthodox understanding of marriage. If marriage is to survive, there needs to be a celebrated difference in the genders. Emasculated men and masculine women (however passive their masculinity) are unnatural beings. Ultimately, attempts to change the nature of men will lead to a few men (perhaps more) being thoroughly confused. Others will be completely lost. Yet not all men will accept such blatant feebleness: "But the sensitive male can also be chivalrous, in a perverted way, by seeking honor in refusing to honor and by protecting (from chivalrous males) women who say they do not want to be protected. It's another case of throwing nature out the front door only to have it return through the back." The political lesson is that we cannot change nature. The reasonable Christian has God to thank for that.

The Radical in Rome

2005-05-15T21:00:00.000-07:00

By Dr. Anthony Esolen
All through the week since the elevation to the papacy of Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, now Benedict XVI, I have listened with a mixture of bemusement and exasperation to the chatter of western journalists. They call Pope Benedict a "hard-liner" - exactly what we who are committed to the word of Jesus Christ are commanded to be, not diverging in the least from His commandments, lest they be called least in the kingdom of Heaven.
Now of course I know quite well that being a "hard-liner" for a western journalist means opposing the pansexualism that western journalists have thoughtlessly accepted, along with many other assumptions of the over-schooled urban elite. It means that Benedict XVI will not budge on those matters dear to such an urbanite's heart, or to some region rather to the south thereof. The reader can supply the list: Benedict will not "liberalize" Church teachings regarding divorce, abortion, sodomy, contraception, fornication, adultery, and women priests. In other words, in his faithful adherence both to the natural law and to what he reads as the express commands of Christ and His apostle Paul, Benedict is called an opponent of freedom. It never occurs to them to consider that it is they, in their championing of the sexually unmoored individual, who are opponents of freedom, not only moral freedom but political freedom too.
How so? I am reading a book by then-Cardinal Ratzinger, Church, Ecumenism, and Politics. It is a collection of essays and letters that treat, from different perspectives, the political and ecclesiological questions of our day. To read it (and that means to walk with heavy boots through a muddy translation of the original German and Latin) is to engage a mind mar-velously subtle and penetrating, able on every page to flash out insights, to make connections that are not at all obvious, but that welcome pondering. Let me introduce you to one line of reasoning that the reader discovers throughout the essays; it is a line of reasoning that should endear Benedict to the true patriots at Patrick Henry College.
The foundation of modern democracy, he says, can
historically be traced back to the Enlightenment, and, further, to the flourishing of ancient Athens; but its deep moral underpinnings reside in Christianity. For the Christian vision not only provides the State with a moral compass it cannot provide of itself- a ground for trusting that reasoning embraces moral reasoning, that moral reasoning can lead us to the good and the true; it provides the State with a vision of the State's perfection, not in this world, but in the next, according to the ordaining wisdom of God. At the same time, the true Christian understands that salvation is not to be gained here in this life; specifically, the State will not provide our salvation. That understanding relieves the State of a devastating burden. Paradoxically, says Benedict, it allows the State to be a legitimate State. The Christian vision, and it alone, allows us to work within the sphere of what is necessarily imperfect, accepting it, even cherishing it.
Jesus Himself instructs us in this separation: "Render unto Caesar what is Caesar's, but render unto God what is God's." His saying ought not to be construed as recommending that the faithful retreat from the world. What Jesus says uproots both the Roman adulation of the State and the Jewish trust in a kind of theopolitical salvation: "This equation of the State's claim on man with the sacral claim of the universal divine will itself was cut in two." In this regard, Benedict duly notes that Paul and Peter recommend for Christians a sane and holy modus vivendi: they are to obey authorities, who have their legitimate sphere of activity, given them by God Himself; yet they are never to capitulate to the idolatry that the Romans exacted to prop up their State. The prophet Jeremiah, too, inveighed against a confusion of faith and politics that in his time would have reduced faith and destroyed any hope for rational political action:

Jeremiah sees himself faced with theopolitical behavior that he wishes to replace with national politics for reasons of theological responsibility. The theopolitics of his opponents consists of their being convinced of an absolute guarantee on the part of God for the Temple, for Jerusalem, for the continued existence of the house of David, and they treat this guarantee as a political and military factor even though from the point of view of rational politics there is nothing to indicate this kind of security. Jeremiah in contrast demands rational politics which in conduct with regard to Babylon would be guided by the actual conditions of power and the possibilities that flow from these; it is precisely this that he sees as an expression of faith in God and of the responsibility to be shown before God.

The crucial mistake is to look to the State for what only God will bring, and only in His good time; or, with liberation theologians (whose errors Benedict exposes carefully and relentlessly), to see the State as the embodiment of the promised Kingdom of God. Christianity is our guard. When we abandon it - or the foreshadowings of it that God has written upon the human heart, the law that used to be called "conscience"
— then the State resumes its old and tyrannical place as object of worship. Benedict therefore reads the twentieth century as a resurgency of statist idolatry, nor does it particularly matter, says he, whether the idolatry calls itself Fascism, or Nazism, or, we might add, the modern welfare democracy, a symbiosis of sexual irresponsibility and State aggrandizement: "Anyone who looks more closely and does not let himself be blinded by phrases will discover sufficient similarities between the disaster of that time [that is, Hitlerian Germany] and the forces that today proclaim as salvation revolution in itself, the denial of order in itself." What such idolatry rests upon is a theology of works
- political works, but always human works; and such a theology, says Benedict, is expressly rejected by the New Testament, by the gospel of grace.
The Radical in Rome, then, places strict limits upon the authority of the State, among other reasons to safeguard its very existence, lest it destroy itself in growing into a tyranny. In a similar fashion he renounces the idea of the Church as a kind of State, amenable to human manipulation. Benedict's ecclesi-ology is based on the reality of martyrdom: the Church is never to be considered as an institution, much less a human institution, but as a Body whose witness of community is always a witness of those particular persons into whose keeping the gospel was entrusted, and who died for the truth they received. We do not make the Church, he insists. We make the State, but we are given the Church, as we are given the gospel. Those, then, who argue that the Church could change its teachings regarding, let us say, homosexual relations, are arguing that the Church is a human institution, like a State, with a constitution that may be amended
at our pleasure. Indeed, they conceive of the Church not as a State whose foundation is the natural law, but as a modern State, the provider of this-worldly salvation for all; a tyranny whose other names include The Cultural Revolution and The Third Reich.
Here my Protestant brothers and sisters may be wondering what Benedict believes about their communions, and how they fit in his vision of the Church. Of course since Benedict is Roman Catholic he accepts the teaching that the mystical Body of Christ, the Body that includes all believers (even some who did not quite know that they were believers, but whom Christ has mysteriously called anyway, for He has sheep whereof His shepherds themselves do not know), is embodied in a particular way by means of apostolic succession. But he rejects, vehemently, any attempts by misguided ecumenists on all sides to alter or squeeze what they are given as truth, to come up with some "ecumenical" agreement that will be moderately acceptable and moderately unacceptable to everyone, and then to coerce the believers of the communions involved to accept the compromise. This too he sees as tyranny - and recommends that Protestants reject it!
Instead, just as in the realm of politics he advises us to wait for our salvation from the Providence of God, so in the realm of ecumenism Benedict repeats the wisdom of the reformer Melanchthon: that we will enjoy unity again ubi et quando visum est Deo, where and when it shall please God. In the meantime, the real work of ecumenism is done not by theology, but by love and gratitude. First, says he, we should appreciate how great is what we share: we read the Bible as God's holy word; we confess three Persons in one God, and Jesus Christ as true God and true Man; we practice baptism; we believe in the forgiveness of sins; we share "the fundamental form of Christian prayer and the essential ethical instruction of the Ten Commandments read in the light of the New Testament." We could go on for a long time listing what we have in common; but Benedict goes so far as to urge us to appreciate where we differ. For once the "poison of hostility" has been drawn out, we can thank God for those differences, not that the Truth can ever be many, but that our very diversity, our being apart, can be used by God to make us one again. Benedict confesses how deeply Protestantism and Catholicism in Germany have relied upon one another, indeed have learned from one another. Perhaps an example from our own country is apropos here. How greatly have my Catholic friends benefited from the unswerving devotion among Evangelicals to the literal Word of God, in the face of so many delusive modernisms! And, if I may presume, how greatly have my Evangelical friends benefited from the stalwart defense of life that has been mounted by the Catholic church, and by its abiding confidence that the Word of God is written on the human heart, in the natural law?
That would be an ecumenism of love and gratitude, as I have said; but more depends upon it than our good will towards our fellow Christians. The survival of Europe itself, and perhaps of the Europe known as the United States, is at stake. For Benedict sees the imminent collapse of the west, and has taken the name of Benedict to recall all of us to a solemn and ancient ideal. Fifteen hundred years ago, the Roman state was exhausted, and yet whatever was decent and noble in it
was preserved - not by senators, but by men in small communities, the monks, who gathered to work and pray. Can we really look at our last century and insist that the Vandals have not already arrived? Or can we turn on the television and insist that they have not set themselves up as our rulers? It is time, he thinks, for a renewal of that monastic ideal, in the form always of communities - communities, I would say, like Patrick Henry College.
The old patriot of Virginia and our new radical in Rome, you see, have hearts for many of the same things. Long live the memory of the former, and may God grant the latter many days to come!

Dr. Esolen is a professor of literature at Providence College in Providence, Rhode Island. He has published several books and translations and is a contributing editor to Touchstone Magazine

How to Read the Bible Redemptive-Historically

2005-05-15T20:00:00.000-07:00

By Jeffrey Cavanaugh
How do you read the Bible? That may seem like an odd question. What do you think the Bible is? What is it for? Is it a collection of stories with a moral point? Is it a book of doctrine, the basis for a systematic articulation of what you believe? Is it a book of solutions to the problems you face from day to day? Or is it far more than all of these?
Most of us are familiar with all the Sunday School stories of the Old Testament. We've all heard the stories of biblical "heroes" like Joseph, Joshua, Gideon, Esther, David, Daniel, Shadrach, Meschach, Abednego, and many others. All too often, however, these scriptural accounts are treated simply as stories, and the application drawn from them usually has something to do with how we're supposed to follow the example of these brave people and be courageous, steadfast, faithful, and the like. The closest thing to a theme that most evangelicals see in these stories is "How to do great things for God." This misses the point. The Bible is far, far more than a collection of stories. It is the record of what God has really done in history. There is one grand theme running throughout all of Scripture, and the point of the stories of the Old Testament can't be properly grasped unless we understand the theme and read them with it in mind.
The way to understand the theme that ties all Scripture together is what many theologians call the redemptive-historical perspective. Put simply, the entire Bible is God's revelation of the story of His work throughout history to redeem a people to himself from sinful humanity, for the sake of His own glory. The point, the end, the focus of all of Scripture—Old Testament as well as New—is Christ. This means that every time we open the Bible and read a passage, we should ask ourselves how it fits in to this one grand theme. It is the point of all of Scripture, and, no less importantly, every part of Scripture.
To make clear how this affects our understanding of Bible stories, let's look at a few, first as they're normally interpreted, and then from a redemptive-historical perspective. First, consider the story of Gideon in Judges 6-8. A common reading of this passage
portrays Gideon as a hero who did great things for God. Preachers and teachers who miss the point of this story make Gideon out to be a courageous man of God whom God used because of his faithfulness and strength. Look at the passage again, though—Gideon was a sniveling coward who tried crazy games with fleeces and dew to get out of obeying God. Gideon's story points to Christ in that, just as God used the weakness of Gideon's character to accomplish an amazing thing, God accomplished the greatest thing of all through the greatest weakness of all—the suffering and death of Christ on the cross.
This wrongheaded reading leads to other problems in interpreting the passage. When interpreting the divine drinking game that God uses in 7:1-8 to whittle Gideon's force often thousand down to three hundred, many teachers will explain this by telling a story about how the men who lapped with their hands to their mouths were the best warriors, men who were alert and looking around, as if they were some sort of uber-Marines. This entirely misses the point, and it is an interpretation that isn't at all supported by the text. The point of the drinking game was to select not a certain kind of men, but a certain number. God was using this apparently arbitrary method to make sure, by using a ridiculously small force to gain victory, that there was no way the Israelites could boast in their own strength or take credit for the victory. Look at the tactics Gideon uses—you don't need liber-Marines to bang pots and wave torches.
A second example is the story of Esther. Like Gideon, the common evangelical reading of the book of Esther makes much of Esther's character, her courage in going to the king, and her faithfulness in responding to Mordecai's charge. This also makes for problematic application. We read the words "Who knows but that you have come to royal position for such a time as this?" and, trying to understand what the passage means for us, we conclude that we too have been placed in our position at Patrick Henry College "for such a time as this," that is, to be raised up as Christian leaders in America and return our culture

MTV and Democracy

2005-05-15T19:00:00.000-07:00

By Julia Rybicki
In 1981, the launching of Music Television (MTV) created a new American and democratic institution. Its reality shows, music videos, political and humanitarian movements, and entertainment news, have both enabled MTV to be the arbiter of pop culture and allowed its celebrities to be active members in democratic man's existence. By creating a dichotomy between the fan and superstar, MTV highlights both the extravagance and commonality of celebrities. MTV presents an apparent aristocracy of celebrity that is ultimately palatable to democratic man through the equalizing factor of democratic ambition.
MTV markets a unique type of celebrity. Television is more interactive than newspapers and radio; the viewer can both see and hear the subject; thus, the subject can better connect with a viewer. MTV enables the viewer to become intimately familiar with (and invasive to) a celebrity's life. MTV also appeals to young popular culture consumers. Shows track the personal and professional lives of celebrities; through MTV the viewer goes into offices, studios, and even homes of athletes, musicians, actors, and anyone enjoying fifteen minutes of fame. MTV highlights the inequality between common viewers and millionaire celebrities, thereby presenting an aristocracy of celebrity. Because they appear to be better than democratic man, celebrities are ostensibly outside of the majority. Within the many types of celebrities, the democratic mind seems to recognize three broad categories of celebrity: the "star" (musicians, athletes, actors), the "entrepreneur" (designers, producers, directors), and the "heiress" (Paris Hilton). These MTV celebrities enjoy admiration with a democratic twist.
Democratic man functions within the majority. Tocqueville describes the omnipotence of the majority as a tremendous force, a faceless entity of equal individuals. This entity creates an allowable range of opinions, desires, and activities in society. The tyranny of the majority ensures that its opponents are punished and again confined within the boundaries of democratic thought. Because he assumes all men to be equal to himself, he can ignore them. Consequently, when
democratic man notices a celebrity, he wants to know the similarities, differences, and the degree to which the differences threaten his notion of equality. MTV is the medium through which both democratic man and celebrity can function in the majority; it showcases the differences and the similarities between the viewer and the celebrity.
MTV creates only an apparent aristocracy; MTV glorifies celebrities by documenting every movement but degrades them by highlighting their democratic ambition. Tocqueville describes democratic ambition as seeking to acquire material goods, reputation, and power. MTV feeds the democratic man's ambition for material goods, including money, cars, clothes, and luxury, by presenting the celebrity as one who has attained those desires. Thus, celebrities and democratic men unite through material goods—the celebrity exemplifies the democratic man.
Some would argue that talent separates the two and enables celebrities to attain material goods. MTV's aristocracy, then, is actual rather than apparent. Yet, this critique ignores democratic man's notion of equality. The democratic man admires and interacts with the different categories of celebrity in terms of equality. In the democratic man's mind, he is like everyone one else, is capable of anything, and has an equal opportunity to everything. Talent is merely a means to the end of democratic ambition—the universal desire for petty things. By setting celebrities apart, MTV reduces individuals to a lifestyle. While talent might enable the celebrity to attain wealth and fame, MTV presents it not as an intrinsic good but as an instrument to attain a lifestyle. Democratic man believes that he must simply cultivate the right means to achieve his ambition.
When watching MTV, democratic man sees one like himself in the soul of the "star" and the "entrepreneur." They are easy for the democratic man to admire, since they were once average people who simply found an opportunity to market a skill. MTV makes stars accessible; they have better lives than the average citizen, but they were once average citizens. MTV presents their talents in terms of sales, popularity, and money; talent is a means to gain more "things." Jennifer Lopez, a "star," sings, dances, and acts, but more importantly she wears pink diamonds and Versace. Sean "P. Diddy" Combs, an "entrepreneur," runs record and clothing labels, is an ardent political activist, and throws multi-million dollar parties in the Hamptons. The "star" and "entrepreneur" exemplify that cultivating the right means enables the average man to meet his democratic ambition; J-Lo and Diddy were once common east coasters with an ability to perform and an aspiration for wealth and fame.
The "heiress" has achieved the object of democratic ambition to the point that she becomes disconnected from democratic man. Democratic man admires the "heiress's" vulgarity, but her lifestyle is so removed from democratic reality that it is above yet, beneath him. Paris is a celebrity so distant from democratic society that anything common (e.g., The Simple Life) becomes a vulgar luxury. She dresses her Chihuahua in Louis Vuitton and makes amateur porn. Democratic man despises her tastelessness, but her lifestyle fascinates him. He dismisses her as unreal. Her democratic ambition is uncontrollable; she is so grandiose that
democratic man can treat her as a superstar but reject her as easily as he does the next-door neighbor.
MTV reveals the celebrity to be another democratic man with democratic ambition. Ambition is the same; the means to attain that end differ. Celebrities ultimately represent a lifestyle of petty things. They want material goods like everyone else. MTV enables democratic man to connect with the "star" and "entrepreneur," because it reveals the celebrity to be a successful, ordinary individual. The "heiress's" democratic ambition is too vulgar; so democratic man dismisses her like he does his equals. Democratic man and celebrity safely exist in the majority. MTV ultimately nurtures the majority's ambition by simultaneously presenting the celebrity as a glorified being with more money, better cars, and prefect clothes and as another person with the same democratic ambition. MTV, thus, gives the democratic man what he wants—the assurance that everyone really is alike.

Love and Philology: The Necessity of Christian Ideology

2005-05-15T18:00:00.000-07:00

By Travis Timmons
As Richard F. Thomas states, philology is "a relationship of affection,' 'respect,' and 'close proximity' to a 'text,' [which] necessarily involves reverence on the part of the critic toward the text." Despite ideological differences between those critics and scholars who believe that objective truths about language and literature may be discovered using philological methods and those who do not believe this, it is the understanding that philological activity necessitates proximity to texts that provides both structuralist and poststructuralist theorists with the common understanding that "what is at stake, then, is clearly the nature of reading." This is of great importance since the attitude one adopts while "reading" is highly scrutinized in current literary studies. In order to join in this dialogue, one's ideology must be perceived as being inclusive to those who have been previously prevented from participating. Christian critics and scholars are suitably equipped for this task. Affection, respect, and reverence toward "the other" are concepts deeply embedded in Christian doctrine and practiced in daily actions. A Christian who truly practices this ideology can approach all texts with sincere care, an attitude that is attractive in the current environment of critical values that desires to "valorize term B."
Sadly, Christianity is often associated with western hegemony and brutality due to historical episodes such as the Inquisition, the Thirty Years War, and colonial imperialism. This results in the conception that Christian ideology is oppressive. In this regard, the signifier "Christianity" is cloaked in a symbolic mode of representation far removed from its signified—the essence of Christianity. If Christians are to dialogue fruitfully in the poststructuralist environment of literary studies, they must overturn this misrepresentation of Christianity. Christian theorists must demonstrate a humble awareness of negative historical stereotypes and attempt to overturn these through participation in literary studies that achieves trans-cultural connectivity. Christianity, by its very nature, is apt for such engagement.
Before illustrating this, however, a there must be a
clarification. I am not arguing that Christian ideology must be compromised in order for participation in literary studies to be achieved, nor do I advocate such an approach. Rather, I want to show that before Christian critics can be listened to, they need to first listen sincerely to others. The goal for Christian ideology is to be accepted as a legitimate critical voice. Yet this does not mean that tenants of the Christian faith are abandoned in the process. It is reasonable to expect that if Christian critics first demonstrate care in achieving dialogical connectivity, the tenants of Christian ideology can be accepted in the same manner in which it is recognized that postcolonial or feminist theorists have certain tenants that cannot be compromised. A mentality favoring inclusive participation does not necessarily mean compromising an ideological core. Instead, it is the nature of the core beliefs that matters; and this is why Christianity offers a valuable and indispensable critical voice.
Philology concerns the nature of reading. The pertinent question, then, is whether philological methods or ideology—a precondition from our existing in a particular culture and time—determines how we read a text and what interpretative conclusions will be decided upon. Jonathan Culler challenged the assumption that texts can be read outside the framework of ideological preconceptions by arguing that textual interpretation requires ideology that both guides and constrains our application of philological methods. Today this is a commonsensical notion initiating its own set of issues. Barbara Johnson observes: "Reading through expectation ('the screen of received ideas')—rather than through an encounter with the text's language—leads to blindness." She continues that interpretive "blindness" prevents us from encountering "unexpected otherness," preventing us from learning "something one doesn't already know." This awareness leads to asking the question of how each reader is oriented toward a text, and consequently an examination of the ideological framework that influences the reading.The deconstruction movement highlighted certain previous ways of reading that reinforced western modes of dominance over "the other," which Stephen Owen describes as "not immediate, and not immediately one's own." Owen's comment implies that encountering otherness causes surprise because it distant from our own immediate experience. Thus, in order to understand what is "other," it is tempting to first desire it as a possession, using one's ideology to mark it as one's own. Deconstructionists challenged this stance it by demonstrating the instability of existing hierarchies that practiced this form of dominance. For instance, New Critics in the South attempted to explain away the complexity of William Faulkner's novels by claiming that his fiction possesses a homogenous set of values that are "heterosexual, male-centered, white, and Christian." It was not until the advent of post-structuralism in the 1960s that this view was overturned and Faulkner's work was appreciated as a profoundly modern corpus in its complex treatment of sexual, racial, and religious themes. This example poignantly illustrates the agenda of the deconstructionist project and the pejorative categories associated with Christianity, which is grouped with other oppressive and previously dominant ideological values.
The association with oppression, however, could not be farther from the essence of the Christian faith. In reality, poststructuralists ought to find aspects of Christianity complimentary with their own framework. Most importantly, Christian ideology is akin to the deconstructionist project in the sense that it is opposed to ideological movements that practice cruel oppression. Christians are commanded to follow Christ's example of love and concern for humanity. This doctrine is inclusive since it upholds the dignity of all humans. Otherness is treated with respect, not with the desire to possess it. This is congruent with Thomas' definition of philology as "a relationship of'affection,' 'respect,' and 'close proximity' to a 'text.'" A Christian can approach the unfamiliarity of otherness with open reception and legitimate care. Like the Bereans, Christians are called to read carefully. If Christians are truly practicing their faith when engaging in exegesis, they cannot help but be welcomed as concerned members of the literary community.
Nevertheless, the stigmatized signifier "Christianity" still stands. To many critics and scholars "Christianity" stands for dominance and oppression. Responding to this conception is a crucial test for Christians.
If this stigma is to be overturned, it must be done with philological action that does not ignore past oppression or erect elitist barriers between "us" and them." Philology should not be used as a tool to prove that "we" are right and "they" are culturally backward. This antagonistic attitude is unhealthy and will only create further alienation between cultural groups. In order to achieve trans-cultural connectivity, Christians can affirm the common bond provided by human experience and cognition that throughout history has been lived out and is documented in the scriptures, which itself is a treasure-trove of human experience.
The ability to strengthen existing cross-cultural connections is another benefit of Christian ideology. Carolivia Herron argues that philology serves a valuable function in asserting interconnections between works from differing historical periods and cultures in a way that is complimentary and beneficial for both works: "[T]hrough philological tools I can demonstrate that the African oral epic, Ham-Bodedio, was composed in a manner that illuminates the manner in which Milton dictated Paradise Lost." Herron notes that participants on both sides will show interest: "Miltonists are too curious about Milton to stay away from scholarship such as this—they are compelled by their own love of Milton to consider African epic." For Christian critics and scholars, interconnectivity is meaningful within Christian ideology because Christians are called to extend themselves across cultural barriers by action that demonstrates love and concern for all humans in the name of the gospel.
The assertion of textual interconnectivity is a crucial component of poststructuralist theory; it acts as a political counterbalance to ideology emphasizing canonized cultural dominance over lesser-known works. In the instance of Afro-American literature, Herron states that developing interconnections "is a political method for bringing African and Afro-American literature before the minds and considerations of those who hold the power of canonical reading lists in their hands." Christian ideology would be a sympathetic and sincere audience in such cases. Subversive genres, such as Afro-American literature, would be "revalorized," while polemic reactions against hegemony could be defused by the example of Christian ideology.
A Christian ideological identity requires Christians who passionately practice their faith in both their lives and their work. Without this sincerity, Christians will be unable to revalorize the signifier "Christianity" and thus lack a legitimate footing for participating in the contemporary critical environment as commentators on complex issues such as race and gender. If they are excluded from these debates, however, it will be difficult for Christian critics to comment on notions of God's transcendent relationship to language and literature. It is only by beginning this process with Christ-like love that we can achieve participation. Christians are called to imitate the example of Christ in this
respect—to observe, listen, and live actively in our world and apply this passion to literary studies. Christian ideology is an invitation for all people to participate in eternal beatitude. This open hand, however, can only be extended with love and care; established by philological work that searches for comparison and commonality across cultural barriers.

Knee-jeck Ideology and Reflective Argument

2005-05-15T17:00:00.000-07:00

By David J. Shaw
In every era there seems to be those who prefer knee-jerk ideology to reflective argument. In the 1990s there were "Clinton-haters," people who accused the forty-second president of virtually everything and were willing to believe virtually anything—provided it was negative. There were also Clinton-defenders who broadly grouped all critics together and dismissed them as "haters." Calling the John Birch Society cranks is one thing; categorizing Kenneth Starr with them, a former B.C. Circuit Judge and Solicitor General of the United States, is another. Both the "Clinton-haters" and his staunch defenders fall within the category, for lack of a better term, of "partisan hacks"—callous, shallow people who care for no other perspective than their own; who, indeed, seem incapable of conceiving of any perspective other than their own; or, perhaps (and this is most damning), care more about power or money or prestige to acknowledge any perspective other than their own.
This era has its own version of partisan hacks. Take, for instance, Liza Featherstone. A writer for the Nation, Ms. Featherstone has an article in December of 2004 issue on the evils of Wal-Mart. The entire article is interesting in that it reveals Ms. Featherstone's desire to be thoughtful yet, due to her unflinching presuppositions, her complete inability to be thoughtful. But one sentence in particular stands out. "Unlike so many horrible things, Wal-Mart cannot be blamed on George W. Bush." The presumption of this sentence, combined with its wonder, credulity, and didacticism, stretches my mind. Who, I am tempted to ask, is dumber? Ms. Featherstone or her readers? The answer depends on this point of analysis: did Ms. Featherstone write that sentence tongue-in-cheek? If so, she is either mocking her readers or mocking the uninformed perception of her readers. (Perhaps she is both mocking some readers and sharing a joke with others.) This, were it true, excuses the sentence. The tone, however, of both the Nation generally and the rest of Ms. Feathersone's article particularly, makes this explanation unlikely. Partisan hacks tend to lack humor—at least as related politically. If the butt of the
joke is their ideology, they are offended; if the butt is an ideology they oppose, they believe it unflinchingly.
The sad fact is Ms. Featherstone probably believes that "so many horrible things" can be blamed on George W. Bush. And, not only Ms. Featherstone, but many (most?) of her readers probably share her opinion. Indeed, Ms. Featherstone & co. not only believe that "so many horrible things" are Bush's fault, but that the litany of "horrible things" is so long, so many, that it comprises most horrible things. How else can one explain Ms. Featherstone's need to carve out an exceptional "horrible thing," i.e., one not caused by Bush?
In writing this sentence, Ms. Featherstone places herself above her readers. She has perspective broad enough to perceive of a horrible thing not caused by Bush. Her readers are generally incapable of seeing this and must be alerted to its existence. This also demonstrates Ms. Featherstone's open mindedness. She is not so blind as to attribute evil only to Bush. The world, Ms. Featherstone implicitly proclaims in her wondrous sentence, isn't that simple. It is complex. Bad things can occur apart from Bush. Not many—certainly not most—but some can and do. Take, for example, Wal-Mart. Wal-Mart, according to Ms. Featherstone, is a bad thing and it exists apart from Bush. It is the result of consumerism. Consumerism is the product of capitalism as modified by Henry Ford. Now, Bush supports consumerism, so he is not off the hook, so to speak, but nonetheless, he is not to blame in the same way that he is to blame for the environment, the deficit, dead children in Iraq, the economy, joblessness, homelessness, homophobia, hate crimes, racism, Islamophobia, the curtailment of civil liberties, the rise of the Religious Right, intolerance, the insurgency in Iraq, dead and wounded American soldiers, high oil prices, Halliburton corruption, Enron corruption, etc.
If we were to ask Ms. Featherstone what other "horrible things" Bush isn't to blame for, I wonder what answer we would get? The Holocaust, maybe? After all, he wasn't born yet. Maybe the Great Depression? In this light, the absurdity of Ms. Featherstone and her ilk becomes apparent. We laugh because we hate. Ms. Featherstone is trapped in her own perspective; we are on the outside, and we are able to see its flaws, to perceive its shortcomings. Of course, we who are on the right are not the only ones who see Ms. Featherstone's insular extremism. There are those on the left who, while despising George W. Bush and his policies, would never imply that Bush deserves blame for all or even most "horrible things."
The dichotomy, then, is not "right-left." Rather, the dichotomy is knee-jerk ideology versus reflective argument. There are Liza Featherstones on the right,
too, possessing the same laziness, committing the same intellectual sins.
But what of ourselves? Do the ideological commitments that we make necessarily exclude us from participating in thoughtful discourse? Simply because we can perceive Ms. Featherstone's absurdity does not necessarily mean that we escape her errors. I only ask the question. Asking the question is important because asking it helps mitigate the self-ghettoizing tendency that we all possess.

Heaven is Full of People

2005-05-15T16:00:00.000-07:00

A reponse to Ronald Bailey's article "Is heaven cheifly populated by the souls of embryos?"
By Zachary Gappa
"What defines a human being? In Reason magazine, Ronald Bailey presents a philosophical argument against the humanity of embryos. Bailey has been arguing this point for some time now. He first attacked the issue from a scientific standpoint, attempting to prove in numerous articles that embryos are equivalent to other cells and do not fully have human status. He was forced to adapt his attack after Patrick Lee and Robert P. George of National Review successfully countered each of his articles.
In his latest article, "Is Heaven Populated Chiefly by the Souls of Embryos?" Bailey moves by necessity from a purely scientific to a more philosophical approach. He appeals to common experience and to his audience's sense of absurdity. He begins his attack with some basic facts. He explains, "Between 60 and 80 percent of all naturally conceived embryos are simply flushed out in women's normal menstrual flows." In other words, conception often occurs but the conceived embryo never implants into the womb. It dies without its parents ever being aware of the conception. Bailey explains that half of these lost embryos have an abnormal genetic structure, but the remaining half would likely have developed into children if they had properly implanted. In other words, the majority of embryos die because they fail to implant in the womb.
Bailey's attempt in the rest of the article is to prove the absurdity of the conservative belief that embryos are humans. He is trying to force conservatives into a tight corner where they must either accept his argument or claim an absurd position. If he can prove that the right-to-life position is absurd, then he has won. He explains, "Bioconservatives ... do not advocate the rescue of naturally conceived unimplanted embryos." He sees this as a contradiction, for conservatives claim to believe that "unimplanted embryos are the moral equivalents of a 30-year-old mother of three children." They are not, however, raising an outcry about the holocaust-level of embryonic death. Bailey believes that, to be consistent, conservatives across the nation
should be working hard to find a solution to this mass-death. Moreover, Bailey argues that if conservatives are not working towards this solution, then they must recognize that embryos are not really people.
Bailey's example is not balanced. He partially mischaracterizes the right-to-life position by failing to take into consideration the knowledge of the average conservative. The average conservative does not know that conceived embryos are flushed out in a woman's menstrual flows. This information is simply not common knowledge. The fact could never be known through experience, for no woman would notice a tiny, just-conceived embryo passing out of her system. The embryo is lost at the exact time when it would normally have just implanted into the womb. It is only through hearing the information from some other source that the average man would know about this large-scale embryonic death. The knowledge is simply not widespread.
There are, however, some who are aware of embryonic death, but even these people cannot know when the embryos actually die. Sex sometimes results in conception and other times it does not, but only when the embryo does actually implant and grow can its parents recognize that conception has occurred. After all, even a miscarriage is hard to detect if the embryo is not developed enough. Most men, even if they did know the general facts of embryonic death, would not be aware of a single specific death. So how can Bailey expect widespread mourning? Does he expect mourning for the general fact that embryos are dying? The death of the 30-year old mother, on the other hand, is specifically known by people. If a 30-year old woman dies, there is a known time, place, and body, but when an embryo dies, none of these are known.
Bailey's expectations do not take into account the nature of human mourning. Humans have a hard time comprehending the horror of massive death. People largely mourn catastrophes by word only. For instance, everyone will acknowledge the awful evil of the Jewish holocaust during World War II. There were, however, many people at that time in those countries who were able to ignore the horrible reality of what was happening to those Jews. Moreover, the average man today is much more moved to mourning by a child dying on his home street than by a million people dying in another country. Joseph Stalin said, "A single death is a tragedy, a million deaths is a statistic." As wrong as it may seem, there naturally is greater human mourning when people encounter a death that is personal and very real to them. A lack of emotional response to statistics does not prove the inhumanity of embryos.
In addition to a specific instance of death, people also need a focal point for their grief. Russel Friedman and John W James of The Grief Recovery Institute explain, "It is essential that [an] accurate memory picture be created or the [grieving] ritual will have little value for grievers." It is hard for a person to grieve properly when he does not have an object upon which to focus his grief. This especially applies to embryonic deaths. The grief people experience when considering the mass death of embryos has no outlet. These people are more likely to overcome this deficiency by refusing to think about the reality of this death altogether.
Another consideration Bailey seems to neglect is the harsh reality of embryonic death. A 60 to 80 percent embryonic death toll has been the common statistic for millennia. It is tragic, to be sure, but it also has a sense of permanence. Bailey is right to demand a horrified reaction from conservatives who have heard about embryonic death. He is further correct in believing that conservatives should be promoting work towards a solution. He does not, however, take into consideration the practicalities of the situation. The average conservative can do nothing directly to find a solution to this problem. Even scientists cannot currently do anything to save these embryos. The most the average conservative can do is to be aware of the problem and support work towards a solution. Beyond that, there is very little that he can actually do to help these dying embryos. The only real option that the average conservative would have is to stop having sex. Of course, even if this were a realistic option, it would still be detrimental, for the human race would die out. In other words, embryonic death is currently a necessary consequence of the preservation of the human race.
This cold, harsh reality affects the average conservative's attitude and response to the mass-death of embryos. He no longer wants to think about the reality of this death. He accepts the horror of it, but it depresses him to think about, for he knows there is no immediate solution that he can grasp or strive towards. Moreover, the average conservative knows that it is vital to the human race that he continue to procreate. It would be psychologically damaging for him to dwell on and mourn over the fact that many of his own offspring will never live past conception. Instead, he chooses to ignore the fact and focus on the practicalities of day-to-day life, procreating and raising the children that live.
Bailey further appeals to common human experience by presenting an example. He explains that any person in a burning clinic would save a 3-year-old child before they would save 10 embryos in a Petri dish. On the basis of this example, he is once again trying to prove that people do not place human-value on embryonic life. His example does not, however, take into consideration all aspects of this theoretical situation. For instance, the average person would be more capable of saving the child than the embryos simply because the child is a more obvious object needing help (does the average man even know how to tell the difference between a Petri dish full of embryos and one containing a germ culture?). More importantly, the child has a far greater chance of living, for he is completely self-sustaining. The embryos still need to be successfully implanted in a womb (this is always a risky procedure) and grow and develop without major complications. The odds are far greater that the average man will be able to save the life of the 3-year old child than that of 10 embryos in a Petri dish. In a situation where removing 10 embryos would likely cause them to die but saving a child would allow it to live, the conclusion is the same for everyone, regardless of their beliefs about the status of the embryos.
Finally Bailey comes to the point implicit in the title of his article: if embryos are really people, then they fill half of heaven. Bailey is pointing out one consequent of the belief that embryos are human, and he is subsequently appealing to his readers' sense of absurdity in an attempt to shock them into accepting his argument. Bailey counts on the probability that the average reader will not think through the heavenly implications of the conservative position on embryonic life. He wants to shock them into a sudden acceptance of his position. He hopes his readers' conception of heaven will contrast so sharply with the implications of the conservative position that they will reject that position outright. This kind of ploy does not make for a strong, lasting argument. A negative, surprised reaction does not mean that the average person does not accept the implications of the conservative position. Bailey is attempting to manipulate his audience into a reactionary acceptance of his ideas. It is as if he has lost the scientific argument and is straining to find some way to convince readers of his position.
Bailey concludes by first raising the question of whether new scientific research may help us to prevent some embryonic death, but then turning the tables and declaring that the answer to this question does not matter. He states that we should "absolutely not" stop embryonic research while new avenues are explored. He argues that the nation should overrule the "minority" who believe that embryos are human, because embryonic stem-cell research could "cure millions." It is strange that, after spending an entire article attempting to convince this "minority" that their views are mistaken, absurd, and inconsistent with their actions, he then completely dismisses them and calls upon the nation to ignore their concerns. It raises questions about how strongly he believes his own arguments. He is dismissing the very people to whom he has purportedly been writing this article. He is attempting to take an invulnerable position: even if his argument is defeated, he argues that it does not really matter anyway, because his position would "cure millions."
There is no question that Bailey is representing a view held by a significant portion of the populace. In light of the previous, scientific points he has lost to respondents Lee and George, this latest article seems to be his desperate grasp for some basis for his views. Bailey's unwarranted assumptions demonstrate his
lack of honesty and bias. His flawed examples and logical holes ultimately undermine his arguments. Bailey appeals primarily to absurdity and common human experience. He bases his argument on actions and ideas which he believes the culture already accepts. While presuppositions and common opinion are indeed important factors in our reasoning, Bailey's change in approach seems weak. He has abandoned his former scientific intellectual reasoning and now seems desperately to be trying to convince his audience of his opinion by any means necessary. Sadly, Bailey is left with very little argumentative ground to stand on. He has not given his audience any reason to believe that every embryo that dies is not human. He has not presented any reason to believe that heaven does not contain the souls of embryos.
Embryonic death is a sad occurrence, an occurrence far removed from everyday human experience. This distance should not be twisted in an attempt to prove that embryos are not humans. Tragically, embryos have been dying on a massive level since the conception of mankind. Embryos are indeed human, and we should be working towards a solution for widespread embryonic death. We must not, however, lose sight of the bigger picture. We should strive to find a way to stop embryonic death, but the solution is not to reject embryonic life.

Ronald Bailey, "Is Heaven Populated Chiefly by the Souls of Embryos? " Reason Magazine, 22 December 2004, http://www.reason.com/rb/rbl22204.shtml (accessed 25 April 2005).

Roll with It

2005-05-15T15:00:00.000-07:00

By Steven Rybicki
you have four years here to actually experience some culture before you go out to "shape" culture. I've spent four years here and some of the most rewarding cultural experiences I've had have been at the BlackCat and 9:30 clubs in Washington B.C. Seeing rock music, live, is one of the most wonderful, liberating, and educational experiences of your college life. If you don't believe me, that's fine, I'm not some Maoist out to grab a fist full of hair and drag you to a re-education center. However, you'll just miss out on something, I think, is valuable.
Since I'll be gone, I wanted to leave you all with a bit of parting assistance on how to take a crew of PHCers and get a party started at one of the fine establishments of music in the D.C. area. First, B.C. is a great music center. It is a vibrant hub for all genres rock, hip-hop, and jazz. The best places to see these acts are the 9:30 club on V Street and the BlackCat on 14th Street in B.C. Both of these places have web-sites with thorough schedules. While 9:30 dabbles in reunion tours and hip-hop occasionally, BlackCat is primarily indie rock and elctronica. To find a show with potential, look for shows of bands you like on itunes or Google the names of bands on the schedules and rummage through their websites to see if you like their stuff. There are many new and up-and-coming bands who play this area frequently, and it's always worth it to catch them when they're still earning their street cred.
The best way to figure out what you want to see is compare ticket prices to names. Unless you LOVE a band, tickets for a show are not worth more than twenty bucks. Buy tickets online: 9:30 club tickets come through tickets.com and BlackCat works through Ticketmaster. It's recommended that you buy tickets online, the service charges are steep, about five bucks per ticket, but they guarantee your butt in the auditorium. Also, don't waste money having the tickets sent to you, mark your tickets "Will Call" (this may seem challenging now, but just trust me, this option will be very clear when buying the tickets online). With "Will Call," all you have to do is present your credit card
and driver's license at the venue and they will give you your tickets, so there's nothing to keep track of.
There are innumerable benefits to getting to a couple of concerts each semester. For instance, this is a great learning experience: buying tickets online, picking them up, and functioning in a social environment are skills that you will need. As crazy as this sounds: if you are going to function in a professional environment you will be doing "weird" stuff like paying for goods and services with a credit card, planning and coordinating events, and, God forbid, your boss will probably take you to dinner at bars and restaurants in the city. At least I can only speak for where my boss took me when I worked at the Federal Election Commission.
So with this friendly little nudge, I hope that between all your studies, you will take time out and see a couple of shows. Buring my tenure at PHC I saw Nada Surf, Live, The Bresden Bolls, The Becemberists (twice), Interpol, Beath Cab for Cutie, Bloc Party, and The Fiery Furnaces. Most were incredible shows, and the provided great memories with the people I saw the shows with. It's really worth the time.
With that zealous recommendation, here are some records you should listen to over the summer and when you return to campus... and go see them when they come to town!

Wilco: YankeHotelFoxtrot - A beautiful elegiac record. Undeniably, one of the most fragilely framed, yet deeply profound, records on all things American, especially after 9/11.

Interpol: Turn On the Bright Lights - This band, created at New York University, put out what will be one of the finest records of this decade. Their sound is nothing short of groovy.

Radiohead: OK Computer - Best record of the 90s: enough said.

Lucinda Williams: Essence - The greatest song-writer in the United States. Listen to whatever she releases.

The Decemberists: Picaresque - Colin Melloy, the literary lyricist from Oregon put out the most assured, emotional, jangling pop hooks this side of R.E.M. this year. Get this CD!

R.E.M. - Automatic for the People - Speaking of R.E.M., this album from 1992 is perfect. Human beings were meant to drive with windows down, system up, listening to these songs.

Spoon: Gimme Fiction - The best indie/pop hybrid in the United States. Spoon is a hard working group of guys who spin some of the best melodies in rock.

Bloc Party: Silent Alarm - The best British band of summer 2005, Bloc Party is an import who put on a great show and even elicited jumping and chanting from the pouting hipsters at BlackCat.

The Fiery Furnaces: Blueberry Boat - The Fiery Furnaces are the best live act I have ever seen. Their records are an amazing synthesis of electronic hooks and guitar jams, but live they are a sight to behold.

Okkervil River: Black Sheep Boy - An incredible debut album from writer/performer Will Sheff. He combines an incredible confidence in putting old-fashioned rock and roll hooks together with Southern Gothic lyrics.

Summer at Shatter Creek: All the Answers ~ Trying to one-up Eliot Smith's Figure 8 with his own "cheerful depression" record, the one man band, known simply as, Summer at Shatter Creek, creates a wonderful record finely prepared with the right amounts of hope, despair, and melody, all delicately packaged in forty minutes of music.

Patrick Wolf: Wind in the Wires - Hailing from the UK, Wolf combines an amalgam of musical styles and instruments to present a musical vision that is unique on both sides of the pond. Not quite rock, not quite folk, just the type of music Bright Eyes wishes he could be.

Death Cab for Cutie: Transatlanticism - The indie band that's not independent anymore (shhhh don't tell anyone). Transatlanticism is an epic, moody balancing act of emo posturing and heartbreaking melody. It will take you, warp speed, through the whole emotional gamut of high school (which by the way you will repeat here at PHC, good luck!).

Explosions in the Sky: The Earth is not a Cold, Dead Place - They come from Texas and call themselves the loudest band in the world. They are the new kids on the "Post-Rock" block and can make the ears bleed from their guitar blare and drum kick, and the heart ache with great, sensitive riffs.

Dios: Dios - Music that sounds like The Beatles and the Beach Boys got together and sired Neil Young... understand? I think you just need to buy this record.

Rogue Wave: Out of the Shadow - A ray of pop sunshine. These guys may sing sad songs sometimes, but they've got a great sense of humor and, in a few years, could be the new Spoon.

The Flaming Lips: Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots Part 1 - Music to bring a smile to your face. Yes, it might tax your patience when they go into their famous techno-drone mode, but there's not a more joyous musical sensation around than hipshaking to the first bars of the title track, or thinking of that special someone when you sing "Do You Realize?"

Table Manners, Gender Wars, and Democracy: A Few Thoughts of Modern Etiquette

2005-05-15T14:00:00.000-07:00

By Brianna M. Springer

Until recent years, people strove for perfection ... Now, however, it is our faults for which we are loved. Imperfect table manners are considered a sign of subscribing to the principles of democracy; ignorance of high culture to be an indication of spirituality; and blurting, rough speech to be a clue to perfect honesty. ~Miss Manners

Never don any fair except for sable when you are in mourning. Never wear white shoes before Memorial Day or after Labor Day. Never position the knife blade away from the plate when setting the table. These dictums and a myriad like them are sadly the only conceptions most people have of etiquette. The impression they leave is hardly flattering, for they sound horribly stuffy. And in this age of free-spirits, spontaneity, and self-discovery, sounding stuffy is tantamount to social suicide. So etiquette, the once punctiliously-studied and venerated art, has become woefully-neglected and maligned. This state of affairs should not be. Etiquette is no villain, no enemy. Rather, etiquette is a victim, a martyr to modern educational deficiencies and to egalitarian malaise.
The charges brought against etiquette by her detractors are as unthinking as they are numerous, and it is difficult to know where to direct my humble, yet honest efforts. However, three charges have recurred most frequently in my experience and it is these that I will address. The charges are: First, that etiquette is arbitrary and artificial. Second, that etiquette is confusing. And, third that etiquette is aristocratic by nature, designed to highlight the inequalities of man. I will discuss each of these in turn.
To begin, then: Is etiquette indeed arbitrary and artificial? The monosyllabic answer is: yes. It is true enough that etiquette is both arbitrary and artificial. But, before Mr. Backus begins any celebratory barbarism, please allow me to explain. I believe those terms lead to a couching of the debate that is unnecessarily negative. It is my position that arbitrariness and artificiality are not always bad and that, in the case of etiquette, they are actually necessary and laudable. I
understand that this is counterintuitive. Perhaps one or two examples might be helpful. First, I suggest that we take a lesson from the calendar. Yes, that kind of calendar, the sort you hang on the wall and depend upon for getting you to dental appointments or dates at the opera. The calendar is a bulwark of societal regularity and function, and there are few indeed who would deny its merits or its usefulness. I myself have spent countless pleasant hours contemplating the glories of our dating system. The pertinent, and oft forgotten, fact about the calendar, though, is that it was begun quite arbitrarily and artificially by Pope Gregory XIII in the late sixteenth century. There is nothing wrong with that. On the contrary, it was necessary to correct certain deficiencies in the old Julian system. After the change, the calendar more accurately reflected the pre-existent order of the natural world. And so it is with etiquette. Rules of etiquette may be arbitrary in their origins, but they are meritorious in their service. They too are meant to accurately reflect the pre-existent order of the natural world. And, as with Aquinas's conception of human law, etiquette can and should be amended whenever it transgresses natural law.
Now, for my second example, I ask you to sit back and imagine, if you will, a scene occurring several centuries ago. There you are a calm bystander on the streets of some small European hamlet. As you take the air your morning stroll is interrupted. Down the lane dash dozens of small Backi, the ancestors of my worthy opponent. Their arms are flailing in pure, unrestrained, boyish joy, and they are hurling small projectiles of various kinds at several pretty lasses. The lasses seem to be enjoying the sport less assiduously, or keenly than the boys, though. Now, our ancestors, in their wisdom knew that merely telling the Backi not to throw things at girls would not stop them for a moment. Young boys are energetic, and they need exercise to keep their arms in shape. I think it is no coincidence, therefore, that the arbitrary and artificial contrivers of etiquette devised the custom of raising ones hat to a lady. This courtesy may be performed vigorously or delicately as the gentleman feels the need. Either is correct. Both are effective.
Now let us move to the second charge, namely that etiquette is confusing. I will point out first that there are two ways in which one can interpret the word "confusing." In the negative sense of the word many, many examples can be brought, not the least of which are the American tax code and German syntax. However, etiquette is not confusing in any such sense. Rather, etiquette is confusing only in the sense that each gender is mysterious to the other. It is understandable for a man to throw up his hands and say that he cannot remember which fork to use just as it is understandable for a man to grip his forehead and moan that his girlfriend is an enigma. Now, most men in their charitable, non-misogynistic moments do not wish to dispense with all women. Neither should they wish to dispense with all social rules merely because of the perceived complexities of the fork. Instead, they should take a scientific approach and seek to discover the operational theorem for each rule of manners. For the fork, this theorem has actually been discovered and is really quite simple. It can be grasped easily even by the uninitiated. I give it to you now as a bonus. Ready your memories, the mysteries of the fork are about to be revealed: Use the one furthest to your left. That is all. And it is not in the least confusing; it is even comforting. As a side note, the operational theorem for women is equally simple, but I have no desire to destroy the livelihoods of psychiatrists everywhere by disclosing it. Also, some things must remain Gnostic or women's magazines will perish. Now we arrive at the third charge, that etiquette is aristocratic by nature, designed to tread upon the common man. This is a very heady charge in our
democratic era, but I fear this one least of all. For nothing could be further from the truth, and nothing is easier to refute by a simple appeal to reason. It is true that manners can be used to put down the unsuspecting, just as guns can be used to kill innocents. One hears tales of senators' wives in Washington, D.C. social circles that freeze the blood. But just as guns ought to be employed to save lives, so manners ought to be used as a means of grace, of dignity for all. You see, the rules of etiquette apply to everyone, small and great alike. And when they are employed properly they serve, like law, as a noble equalizer. This is demonstrated beautifully in the hierarchy of the table. You see, no matter how lowly the hostess or how lofty the guest, the hostess is the ruler at dinner. She is the one who begins the proceedings by taking the first bite, even if the Queen of England herself were in attendance. Etiquette, in this sense, bears a striking and not incidental resemblance to the Magna Carta. And, just as the tyrants of former times were brought to their knees by blind Justice, so hubristic socialites in our day can be cowed by blind Etiquette.
In closing, I implore you to examine the evidence in Etiquette's favor. Realize that etiquette serves as a bulwark and an enrichment of our society. It may have its flaws, but its merits are many, and they add up to a sublime and valuable whole; a whole well-worthy of the defense of all.
[Editor s Note: This was first delivered as a speech in response to Mr. Austin Backus.]

My Pleasure

2005-05-15T13:00:00.000-07:00

By Tim Hoskins
For a month one summer while she was in high school, my mother worked at Wendy's in Mc-Donough, Georgia. Sometimes, she describes to us what it was like, the stress, the rude customers, the constant feeling that you have just been dipped in grease. Often, she will use this story as an explanation for why fast food does not appeal to her. Usually, she will theorize that everyone should be made to work in a fast food restaurant at least one in their lives. Invariably, she will point to this experience as her greatest motivation for finishing college.
In the January of my senior year in high school, I began my own experience with conventional entry-level employment. A man in my church was opening a Chick-fil-A only a few blocks from my house in Val-rico, Florida. He came to our Wednesday night youth group to solicit employees. I liked money and had little else to do before college so I applied.
For our first training session, four of us were carted off to an already established franchise to observe its functional splendor. Biann, the only girl in our group, was selected to learn the register at the front counter (which in restaurant slang is militaristically called "the front line") and we three remaining males were sent to the back to learn about the deep fryer, explained to us by a smiling Columbian man named Rodrigo.
Our second training session brought the whole "team" together for the first time. This classroom-oriented afternoon taught us about days off, overtime, sexual harassment, robberies, labor laws, and government mandated sanitary standards.
Out final training took place at the store on the night before its grand opening. Our families had been invited as a forgiving crowd of customers for our dress rehearsal. Despite the segregation of our previous training, it seemed that I was also destined for the front line. I was only little handicapped by having spent my hands-on training learning about breaded chicken and boiling peanut oil. The registers were brand new consisting of a touch screen with little pictures of each food item. It took a few weeks to learn to more arcane functions such as how to sell someone one solitary chicken nugget or
a grilled chicken sandwich with only half a bun, but it was not hard.
It was also that night I was acquainted with the bane of my existence. I had just sold someone's little sister a Chick-fil-A sandwich (a CFA to those on the inside) when my boss Jeff walked up. In the friendly and enthusiastic tone he always used with "team members," he informed me that if any customer told me "thank you," I was to respond with "my pleasure." This policy did not please me for a couple of reasons: first, I am not the kind of person who says "my pleasure," and second, my dealings with customers were rarely pleasurable for me. The average American assumes that since one is working an entry level job one must be either: lazy, a drug addict, mentally retarded, a criminal, or an illegal immigrant. As a high school senior killing time before college, this assumption did not sit well and to be required to inform then that I had enjoyed their abuse was intolerable and highlighted the powerlessness of my position.
This struck me most starkly one night just before closing. A man in scrubs with a hospital ID clipped on came in and ordered a CFA. He became indignant when I did not offer him barbeque, honey-mustard, or sweet and sour sauce to go with it. Now, while we will gladly provide these to anyone who asks, they are meant for chicken nuggets and so we do not automatically offer them with chicken sandwich orders. Rather than allow me to explain this, he drew himself up like a Baptist preacher and told me how I was worthless, had no pride, and would never amount to anything. I held my tongue and silently moved Dr. Jerk to the top of Pulitzer List, those whom I plan to strike with the first Pulitzer Prize I win. He grabbed the paper Chick-fil-A sack and stormed out as I called after him "my pleasure!" although the phrase "burning coals" was the predominant thought in my head.
My mother is right; it is worth it to finish college.

The Art of Tip Baiting

2005-05-15T12:00:00.000-07:00

By Micah A. Towery
Tip baiting is a fine art, requiring great skill, grace and diligence. As a coffee shop employee you are not dependent on tips. These tips can easily accrue to hundreds of dollars in untaxed extra cash, which you can spend on various vices, habits, or necessities.
Tip baiting appeals to the two emotions most common in humans: guilt and pride. It is about creating a particular impression: you, the poor, overworked employee, rose early to assist the commuting masses in their worthy capitalistic endeavors, but have received little thanks or gratitude. The customer, either feeling guilty on behalf of his stingy fellow man, or wishing to have grateful coffee shop employees groveling at his feet, will tip a small amount, which, over time, will accumulate significantly.
To give such an impression of destitution, the employee must keep careful watch on the tip receptacle. When one sees anything more than a few dollars and some loose change, they must immediately, but discreetly, dump the excess into a hidden cup. It is a simple procedure and one cannot be remiss in his duty.
A tip receptacle may be any sort of container. But it should be subtle: no loud gaudy letters declaring "TIPS!" (read desperation) or silly phrases such as "Thanks a latte!" (read unoriginal and tacky), unless one is intentionally trying to appear pathetic, which might actually be an effective technique. Otherwise, such things are tasteless and give an impression of begging. Begging gives away whatever power the employee has. No matter what, the employee must hold power at all times. One may object that the prideful tipper thinks the employee is groveling and begging; however, in truth, the employee is always holding all the cards, for he knows about the hidden tip cup. As soon as the prideful customer turns around, patting himself on the back for being so generous, the employee may allow himself a knowing smile.
The type of monetary denominations in the tip jar is another important aspect of tip baiting. While keeping a low amount of money is important, one
should always keep at least two or three dollars in the tip receptacle, as if some kind soul gave a whole dollar as a tip. This sets both the precedence of tip amount, and establishes tradition of that precedent. The prideful tipper will be obligated to match this and the guilty tippers feel they should tip this amount at least.
After receiving a tip, the employee should give a simple "thank you," nothing more or less. It should be enough to express the necessary thanks, so as not to appear ungrateful, but never so much as to satisfy the guilt or pride of the tippers. These feelings are the weakness of the customer and should be exploited without their knowledge.
The denomination and amount of money is also important to prevent the phenomenon known as tip dipping. Oftentimes, in an attempt to come up with the right change, customers will grab money out of the tip jar to make ends meet or simply to avoid breaking a dollar (you know who you are!). Feigning ignorance, they know that all the employee can do is give them dirty looks. Any sort of protest would reveal the employee to be the greedy grubber he is. The tip dipper knows this and exploits the weakness. Occasionally, there is a truly ignorant person, who would choose to believe that the tip jar is the cumulative generosity of some brotherhood of coffee drinkers (an idea inherently absurd considering the gluttonous hordes that would compose such a brotherhood). The tip baiter, however, can always spot a true tip dipper, as one sneaky bastard to another. An underhand dirty look is the sole retaliation for this protection racquet in which the tip dipper is engaging. That and spitting in his drink. This allows the employee another chance for the knowing smile.

Notes on the Times November 2004

2004-11-15T21:00:00.000-08:00

Bush Nation?
By Prof. Erik S. Root

Dr. Tom Goes to Washignton
By Jane Grisham

The Future of the Democratic Party
By David J. Shaw

Tocqueville's Postmodernism
Carol Browning

The Forgotten Argument
By Michaela Willi

The Personal Problem of Evil
By Joshua Eller

Pure and Undefiled Religion: Why Bono Might be a Better Christian than You
By David Cooper

Insert Moral Here: A Brief Critique of Christian Fiction through Lens of Thomas Mallory's Morte Darthur
By Brianna Springer

A Review of Elliott Smith's Album From a Basement on a Hill
By Steven Rybicki

Back to issues
Back to main

Bush Nation?

2004-11-15T20:00:00.000-08:00

Prof. Erik S. Root
The election is over and I suspect that most people are at once relieved and ebullient that it ended in a Bush victory. Many others are just happy it is over, period. Yet the campaign would not be complete without bringing to a close the spectacle we witnessed. Kerry was soundly defeated and the Republicans picked up seats in both houses. Overall, it was a great election for the Republicans and further solidified the creeping realignment that has been underway since 1994. The last time any Democrat candidate for president received 51 percent or more of the vote was 1964. Indeed, something important happened in this election, but in his own way Kerry contributed to the emerging Bush nation. In the closing weeks of the campaign, the Kern campaign engaged in two practical blunders.
The day after Superman succumbed to the mortal stab of the Grimm Reaper, John Edwards gave one of the most demagogic speeches in modern times: if Kerry and Edwards were in office, Christopher Reeves. Edwards divined, would have been able to walk again. The born again Kerry/Edwards campaign thus morphed into the Benny Hinn ticket. They promised fantastic things in ways that challenged the most able mental gymnasts. Many Americans may believe in the scientific god, but most certainly know that such miracles are not just around the corner and ready for implementing. Aside from promises, Kerry/Edwards also tried to foist on America an October Surprise.
The New York Times wrote a "news" item explaining that somehow Bush was responsible for allowing explosives to be smuggled out of al Qaqaa. As Bill Kristol wrote in the Weekly Standard:
The allegations that nearly 400 tons of 'high explosives' were missing from the al Qaqaa arms dump are based on charges leveled by Mohamed al Baradei, chairman of the International Atomic Energy Agency. The claims are old and increasingly suspect. But that hasn't kept John Kerry's presidential campaign from using the story in a new television ad and in virtually every- stump speech and media appearance over the past two days.
Kerry was so desperate, seeing the election slipping from him, that he engaged in a grand lie. Kerry continued to run his ad even though NBC did yeoman's work in criticizing the NYT story—they had an embedded reporter with the troops as they approached and inspected al Qaqaa. In essence, the material was not "smuggled" out of al Qaqaa after the invasion, but most likely disappeared in the weeks before the invasion. Even Richard Holbrooke, a senior adviser to the Kerry campaign, admitted there was no hard evidence for the accusation: "You don't know the truth and I don't know the truth." Bush went on the offensive and publicly criticized Kerry: "a political candidate who jumps to conclusions without knowing the facts is not a person you want as your commander in chief."
The al Qaqaa debacle planted a crescendo on a campaign already in meltdown mode. In taking the side of al Baradei, Kerry was accepting the U.N.'s word over the word of the 101 st Airborne and the 3rd infantry division. Kerry's position on al Qaqaa also exposed him to flip-flopping charge again. Remember, he claimed that WMDs did not exist. If the weapons that were "smuggled" out of al-Qaqaa did not represent a serious threat, why should we care; if they were a threat, then the war might just be justified on those grounds. The talented folks at Powerline were the first to notice the contradiction.
All these practical missteps aside, Bush's victory might be a triumph of what James Ceaser has called "neo-natural right." Ceaser wrote that:
President Bush has identified the Republican party with a distinct foreign policy, which he has justified by recourse to certain fixed and universal principles—namely that 'liberty is the design of nature' and that 'freedom is the right and capacity of all mankind.' Not since Lincoln has the putative head of a Republican party so actively sought to ground the party in a politics of natural right.
With the Republican majority now fully entrenched, we might expect another twenty years of Republican rule, but does the party and the people who make up this nation, believe in the idea of America? Bush has attempted to revive our ancient faith, which is a timeless idea, and he has stated it in such a way as to require something of all of her citizens. In the process. Bush just may have refashioned the GOP.
Perhaps nothing captures Bush's understanding of America more than his July 2003 speech on Goree Island. Senegal. In that speech Bush reflected:
For 250 years the captives endured an assault on their culture and their dignity. The spirit of Africans in America did not break. Yet the spirit of their captors was corrupted. Small men took on the powers and airs of tyrants and masters. Years of unpunished brutality and bullying and rape produced a dullness and hardness of conscience. Christian men and women became blind to the clearest commands of their faith, and added hypocrisy to injustice. A republic founded on equality for all became a prison for millions. And yet in the words of the African proverb, 'No fist is big enough to hide the sky.' All the generations of oppression under the laws of man could not crush the hope of freedom and defeat the purposes of God. In America, enslaved Africans learned the story of the Exodus from Egypt and set their own hearts on a promised land of freedom. Enslaved Africans discovered a suffering Savior and found he was more like themselves than their masters. Enslaved Africans heard the ringing promises of the Declaration of Independence—and asked the self-evident question, 'Then why not me?1
And again.
These men and women, black and white, burned with a zeal for freedom, and they left behind a different and better nation. Their moral vision caused Americans to examine our hearts, to correct our Constitution, and to teach our children the dignity and equality of every person of even-' race. By a plan known only to Providence, the stolen sons and daughters of Africa helped to awaken the conscience of America. The very people traded into slavery helped to set America free."
And finally,
The evils of slavery were accepted and unchanged for centuries. Yet. eventually, the human heart would not abide them. There is a voice of conscience and hope in every man and woman that will not be silenced—what Martin Luther King called 'a certain kind of fire that no water could put out." That flame could not be extinguished at the Birmingham jail. . . . It was seen in the darkness here at Goree Island, where no chain could bind the soul. This untamed fire of justice continues to burn in the affairs of man, and it lights the way before us.
Bush did not just engage in a physical war. he promulgated an ideological one as well. The argument against slavery emanates from the same idea that justifies fighting Islamofascism. In part. Bush's justification for the war both in Afghanistan and in Iraq are commiserates with the understanding that all men possess natural rights. He contended as much before the United Nations on September 21. 2004. This nation was formed in order to secure those rights, and Safety and Happiness are the beginning and end—the alpha and omega—of politics. A nation (a president) that allows an attack without a response is a government that is not fulfilling its moral duty.
America is the first nation to be founded on the everlasting twin towers of liberty and equality. These convertible terms form the ground of legitimate government. The Founders believed that all men have a divine spark for liberty sown into their constitutional make-up and Bush fondly reiterated that by contending that men long for freedom. However, to properly exercise this freedom, men need enlightenment. Certainly, Bush's statesmanship had the political effect of enlightening the American people to remember that timeless idea and hence act on behalf of freedom. The President's justification of the ill-named war on terror is, at least, a reaffirmation of the rights we all share. The election was in many ways a referendum on the w^ar, and when the people reflected on the American idea, they ushered Bush back into office. Ceaser argues correctly that Bush held "there is a structure and order to human beings and their affairs, and standards that can be both known and used to guide political action." The war was no less a moral issue than same- sex marriage. Like the evil of slavery, Americans reasoned that the evil—ever inventive—of Islamofas-cism does not, and will not, stop at the water's edge. Was this a difficult decision? Surely. It is never a joyous decision to commit lives in order to secure liberty. Yet, to do nothing would be unjust.
The High Commissioner of the blogosphere, lawyer, professor, and afternoon drive talk show host, Hugh Hewitt, believes that this election ended the ideological grip, stemming from the 60s, on American politics. No more can the left effectively run against America for she is indeed a force of good in the world. She is not the vile country that the left successfully portrayed her as in Vietnam years. Gone are the days when left was able to find an audience to "blame America first." Even the far left editor of Dissent Magazine. Michael Walzer. criticized his own for their unpolitical politics.
Christopher Hitchens also delighted in the ideological defeat of his former comrades. Why? Because the left does not even pretend to believe in human, much less natural, rights. They stand at once for everything and nothing. The left's attack on the American ideal is politically dead. May they rest (forever) in peace.
Bush's statesmanship has dealt the left a serious, if not fatal, blow. However, the future of freedom is not assured. While Bush believes in the power of liberty, in a speech before the National Endowment of Democracy he warned that ''the success of freedom is not determined by some dialectic of history." Do Americans believe in the concept of liberty as expressed in the hallowed Declaration? Will they keep, and draw nearer to, our ancient faith? The next few elections will determine just how persuasive Bush was in reestablishing the GOP on Lincolnian grounds.

Dr. Tom Goes to Washington

2004-11-15T19:00:00.000-08:00

By Jane Grisham
Imagine a right-wing conservative who was able to work closely with Democrats and write thirteen pieces of legislation that were signed into law by President Clinton. Imagine a Christian that fellow-shipped weekly with four other congressmen, two of whom were Democrats. Imagine a man that lived on C Street with a few elected officials and flew home even.- weekend to his wife, kids, and medical practice. This man is Thomas Alien Coburn, M.D., a leading conservative of our time.
He is a native of Oklahoma, a former businessman who sold his family's company to Revlon and then went to medical school. You will find this elected official either at church, mowing his lawn, or at the local barbeque dinner, "My Place." He is the modern citizen legislator and friend of our Founders.
I had the distinct honor of working on his campaign. I functioned as his only fundraiser until about a month ago when we incorporated Karma Robinson, a professional fundraiser, to work in Oklahoma City while I maintained the fundraising in Tulsa and the eastern Oklahoma. Not only did I work for the man but I went
to church with him and participated in a Bible study he taught at his home on Sunday nights.
Why was Dr. Tom able to enter the Republican Primary in March, race against two other formidable opponents, win the nomination, and then go on to beat a popular Democrat from his old district? Some may say it is because he kept his word in 2001 when he honored his term limit pledge. Others may say it was because he, an obstetrician, delivered 1/1000 of the electorate and treated many others.
I think Dr. Tom's victory can be attributed to three things that are all very peculiar in modern politics. The first was a gracious, un-offensive, and undeniable reliance on Jesus Christ, the second was an emphasis on town halls, and the third was the quality of his staff.
From day one until its conclusion. Dr. Coburn's campaign was founded on prayer, honoring God's standards and remembering His promises. Each week the staff and Dr. Tom (when in town) spent at least 20 minutes in corporate prayer. Toward the end of the campaign we had nights of prayer and nights of praise. Around 9:00 each evening we had mandatory prayer conference calls that would last from ten minutes to forty-five minutes. We read the Bible to each other and Dr. Coburn would send out mini-sermons by the Spirit's leading. We had a rock named "Ebenezer" to remind us of God's faithfulness to us. Dr. Tom would pray before meals at all fundraisers, regardless of the audience and, only when asked, would speak briefly of his saving relationship with Jesus Christ.
Our most effective campaign technique was the use of town halls. About a week before Dr. Tom visited a town we would advertise in the local paper, notify the political organizations, and put flyers up around town inviting everyone to a public location to listen to a brief speech and have an opportunity to ask questions. The town halls were very effective—they attracted people from both political parties and gave Dr. Tom an opportunity to speak from his heart about where he saw America going and what he planned to do about it. Town hall attendees would quickly receive Dr. Tom
and on occasion our opponent's spies would change allegiance and become Coburn volunteers. This was the single most effective way we were able to build a strong grass roots organization. Those that met Dr. Tom became energized, educated, and ready to elect someone that they could identify with.
Dr. Tom's third strongest asset was his staff. It was a HUGE honor to work with people whose commitment to conservatism, the Constitution, and to term limits surpassed those of any I've ever met. Dr. Tom's staff was characterized by honesty and hard-work that can only come from people who are inspired and fully committed to a united cause.
Washington is already in an uproar over the country doctors" return to office. Career politicians who have become mesmerized by power and forsaken their goals should watch out for Dr. Tom because in his mind there is no better day that today to start making changes in Washington.

The Future of the Democratic Party

2004-11-15T18:00:00.000-08:00

By David J. Shaw
Election Day, Tuesday, November 2, 2004, was a disappointing day for Democrats. John Kerry lost; so did Tom Daschle. George W. Bush won a majority of the popular vote. The Democrats have now been the minority party in the House for a decade. After the Republican gains in the House, Democrats look to remain in the minority for years to come. The Republicans also made gains in the Senate, picking up a net total of four Democratic seats. Yet, in all this, there was one bright spot for Democrats. In the race for the open Senate seat in Illinois, Democrat Barack Obama trounced Republican Alan Keyes by a margin of 70 percent of the vote to 27. Democrats, not unreasonably, see Obama's election as a harbinger of things to come.
Meet the future of the Democratic Party. Barack Obama is, perhaps, the perfect candidate. Tall and handsome, he possesses a deep voice that resonates well on television and radio and he moves with a youthful earnestness. After spending eight years in
the Illinois state senate, his colleagues praise him as effective. And in the corrupt world of Illinois politics, where the former governor is under federal indictment and two of Obama's opponents in the Senate race were effectively forced out of it because of scandals stemming from unsealed divorce records, no one has even alleged anything corrupt or sordid against Obama. Winsome and charismatic, Obama has qualities reminiscent of Ronald Reagan. You may not agree with him, but you will be hard pressed not to like him. His persona is warm and sincere. He seems to connect with people and, while coming across as passionate, he does so with good humor and doesn't take himself too seriously. When introducing himself he jokes that his name rhymes with "yo mama."
A graduate of Columbia University and Harvard Law School, as well as a professor at the University of Chicago, Obama is smart and articulate. He more than held his own in debates against Alan Keyes. the Republican candidate, and delivered the keynote address at the Democratic National Convention. Obama's intelligence isn't limited to law and theoretical knowledge; he is politically shrewd. Confident of victory in Illinois, Obama spent the summer and part of the fall raising money and campaigning for other Democratic candidates around the country. He enters the United States Senate with a host of favors to call in whenever he needs them.
What makes Obama most unique, though, is his ability to transcend racial politics. Barack Obama is the son of a black father and a white mother. He is embraced by the African American community, but unlike a Jesse Jackson or an Al Sharpton, he isn't limited by it. In a city as racially charged as Chicago, Obama was able to win the votes of poor African Americans, rich white liberals, moderate white suburbanites, and blue collar white ethnics. To echo the Economist, Obama is a "post-racial" candidate. The Illinois Republicans' decision to bring in Alan Keyes, who is also black, to run against Obama only served to highlight this fact. Undoubtedly, some of Obama's success so far was
serendipitous. Shortly before the Democratic primary in March, unsealed divorce records revealed that Blair Hull, a former investment banker who had spent close to $30 million on his Senate bid, had hit his wife. During the general election, Republican candidate Jack Ryan withdrew from the race after embarrassing allegations made against him by his former wife came to light, also from unsealed divorce records. Obama's biggest break came when the Illinois GOP decided to bring in Alan Keyes from Maryland to replace Jack Ryan. Alan Keyes is a smart man, but he tends to say unwise things. Take, for instance, his suggestion that Jesus wouldn't vote for Obama. Quotable and pithy, to be sure, but it was an utterly ridiculous and inappropriate thing to say in the context of a Senate race.Good luck—which is to say unsealed divorce records and discussions of Jesus' voting preferences— aside, Obama seized the opportunities afforded him and maximized them. Machiavelli noted that Fortune is a woman and that she prefers those who handle her forcefully. Barack Obama has proved forceful so far.

Tocqueville's Postmodernism

2004-11-15T17:00:00.000-08:00

By Carol Browning
Equality is not a common word in contemporary society. There are equal-opportunity employers and equal-housing lenders and such, but as an ideal itself, equality is not often preached. Its place has been taken by such other virtues as freedom, diversity, and non-partisanship. When Alexis de Tocqueville, in the wake of European revolutions, wrote Democracy in America, he said as much about American equality as democracy. What, then, has happened to equality in the intervening decades?
It is undeniable that, at least politically, Americans are far more equal today than they were in the early 1800s. Though it has taken almost two centuries since its founding for America to finally rid itself of officially-sanctioned racism and sexism, it has been a steady development throughout her history. There are still quibbles over affirmative action and gender gaps, but it is obvious that equality has not ever had a surer hold on a people than in America of the twenty-first century.
Yet our society is again in the midst of major cultural change. The last century brought Western culture to the tragic but logical conclusion of rationalist modernity, and in response to this, the postmodern phenomenon has risen in its place. With it have come new ideas on government, society, and equality.
Equality in twenty-first century America is moving beyond modernism. Having largely achieved personal and political equality for every citizen, the cultural mood is moving towards egalitarianism on a deeper, more philosophical level. For 200 years, it could be honestly said of America that here '"the precepts of Descartes are least studied and best followed" (Democracy in America, 403). While that statement described a historical America, it is not a sufficient description of the America that is coming to be.
Disillusioned with the rationalistic search for ultimate truth that pervaded the modernist mindset, postmoderns are not concerned with finding a single, unifying ideal or any kind of sure method for perfecting society. Thus, it does not fluster them in the least to hold to a relativistic sort of equality—philosophi-
cal egalitarianism rather than a political one. They gain this equality by decreeing that all beliefs, values, viewpoints and opinions are specific to one's immediate community, and all are equally valid. If there is no single unifying Truth, then all standards are equally true. This is the equality meant when spoken of with other words, like "diversity" and "tolerance." This is the equality of our generation.
Were Tocqueville to turn his perceptive eye upon our current cultural situation, I believe he would have treated the matter the same way he treated the philosophical and cultural changes of his own turbulent day. The democratic revolutions were certain and necessary historical developments—larger and more violent, to be sure, than most bends in history's course, but inevitable nonetheless. Tocqueville saw the uselessness, on one hand, of condemning and eschewing the uncomfortable changes in society, and the folly on the other of recklessly abandoning oneself to the enthusiastic bandwagon of revolution. In other words, he sympathized with the old order, but wisely sought to give sober attention to the new one that was taking over his world. This, I believe, would be his attitude were he to evaluate contemporary American society.
Postmodernism is bringing a different flavor of equality to our society, but Tocqueville would not see this as reason to expend effort to stop the change. Rather than crying over the death of modernity, he would instead make an effort to discover the characteristics of postmodern ideals, analyze them, and respond with encouragements for their benefits and warnings against potential pitfalls. This is the general principle held throughout Democracy in America. With regard to postmodernism in particular, however, I believe the argument can be taken further.
In a certain sense, Tocqueville can himself be seen as an early herald of postmodernism. In warning of the dangers of unchecked equality and individualism, he was also critiquing the overall philosophy of modernistic rationalism. The democratic revolutions—including the founding of America—were the children of modernitv. whether the modernity of the Enlightenment or of the Reformation. Thus in warning against the pitfalls of equality, he was likewise showing his misgivings against modernity as a whole. As far as postmodernism exists as a reaction against and corrective to the errors of modernity, Tocqueville was postmodern, for he saw the same problems. This is evidenced in the solutions he offers as preventives against an overly egalitarian regime. Notice that his great hope for America lay not in her meticulously and rationally planned government, nor in her equality of conditions, nor in her democratic birth. He saw private social institutions as the safeguard of American society - a communal, non-rational solution to the excesses of alienating, reason-based egalitarianism (DA II 2.4-5). It is safe to say that of all the characteristics of postmodernism, Tocqueville would probably find himself most pleased with its affinity for community. That is not to say that Tocqueville would be happy with the overall state of equality in postmodern America. When reality is reduced to opinion, and equality of
viewpoint no longer refers to the freedom of a person to hold any view, but rather to the equal epistemo-logical legitimacy of any view, then all excuse for passionate belief is eroded. Yet Tocqueville foresaw this too, as he aptly describes equality's last men: "... a herd of timid and industrious animals of which the government is the shepherd" (DA 663). This passage is rightly famous, for it shows us ourselves with sharp familiarity.
Equality is a word that changes in meaning as it changes historical eras. An attempt at quantitative comparison of this ideal in different eras cannot escape the fact that "equality" signifies something radically different to a twenty-first century postmodern than it did to an eighteenth century revolutionary. Yet, as Tocqueville showed, there is hope to be found in any generation—it is not discovered in the past, though history may guide, but rather in sober guidance of the future.

The Forgotten Argument

2004-11-15T16:00:00.000-08:00

By Michaela Willi
This past week, the American population was divided into two camps: Republicans and Democrats. We commonly define our ideas by such oppo-sites: liberal v. conservative, theist v. atheist, Christian v. Muslim, Protestant v. Catholic, idealist v. pragma-tist, modernist v. relativist. Two opposing systems of thought that have largely fallen out of usage are realism and nominalism.
Realism is a belief in universals. Realists see the essence of an object as part of a larger, abstract category. A squirrel is not so much an individual creature as it a replication of the ideal of squirrelness. Thus there exists a universal squirrelness somewhere in the metaphysical reality. In the same way, men and women are essentially variations of the metaphysical prototype rather than individuals that resemble one another. Our differences are not our essence, but rather our similarities, which reflect the ideal of humanity.
Nominalism is a reaction against realism. Nominal-
ists deny that the essence of a creature is found in its genre. They deny that a specific person or squirrel is primarily defined by its humanity or squirrelness. Rather, the human mind notes similarities between unique individuals and categorizes them for the sake of convenience. Similarities allow us to put individuals in categories but they are not the essence of the man.
Although the terms realist and nominalist originated in the Middle Ages, the philosophical systems that underlie them began in ancient philosophy. Realism, strangely enough, used to be known as idealism. We first read of this in Plato, when he posited the theory of Forms. For Plato, there is an ideal realm where the essence of all objects exists - an ideal chair, an ideal squirrel and, presumably, an ideal man.
Philosophers still debate the extent to which Aristotle deviated from Plato. Aristotle's methods seem closer to nominalism, even if he did not intentionally begin a new school. His school, although originally termed "realist," focused on concrete evidence from which we can induce general principles, just as the nominalists believe we create categories by observing accidental similarities.
Plato's school was revived and radicalized in the third century A.D. by Plotinus and his followers. These neo-Platonists relied less on logic than did Plato and were much more mystical, often even considered pantheistic. They believed that the Forms Plato described existed in reality. By taking Platonism a step beyond Plato, they furthered the distance between idealism and realism.
Plato's idealism became known as realism in the Middle Ages. Until the twelfth century, realism was the orthodox position of the Catholic Church. In the late eleventh century, the philosopher Roscelin was condemned as a heretic for his deviant position on universals. His position was propagated by his famous student Peter Abelard. As a young man, Abelard challenged the Parisian archdeacon, William of Cham-peaux, causing William partially to retract his position on realism. Abelard put forth a form of soft nominalism he called "conceptualism," which asserted that, although universals do not exist apart from individuals, they are necessary constructions to comprehend the world. William of Ockham, famous among logicians for formulating "Ockham's razor," was also a nominalist. Thomas Aquinas tried to reconcile the two positions, although he favored realism.
These abstract philosophical distinctions may not hold the fascination of "bottom-line" Americans because they do not appear to be practical or relevant. Such a view underestimates the importance of universals, whose importance reaches beyond the merely semantic. Realism and nominalism were actually decisive historical catalysts. Meryick Carre, who wrote an excellent book on the debate, believes that Ockham's nominalism directly led to the birth of science and the Protestant Reformation whereas Augustine's realism prefigured Descartes and the Enlightenment. Carre claims that contemporary socialists who uphold ideals of the State are direct descendents of the realists while radical individualists are heirs of the nominalists.
Whether or not we accept Carre's grandiose evaluation of the historical importance of realism and nominalism, he is certainly correct in asserting that these ancient philosophies fostered modern, influential ones. We can use the concept of universals as a new way to evaluate our own ideas. Is a chair a chair because we see the similarity between it and other things that are meant to be sat in or because it is essentially a chair? Is there really such a thing as ideal beauty or are concepts of attractiveness only social constructs? Is a mentally-impaired woman still more human than a smart ape that can perform more of the functions we associate with humanity? The realism versus nominalism debate provides insight into questions ranging in importance from intellectual brainteasers to social ethics.

The Personal Problem of Evil

2004-11-15T15:00:00.000-08:00

By Joshua Eller

Margaret, are you grieving Over
Goldengrove unleaving? Leaves, like the
things of man, you With your fresh thoughts
care for, can you? Ah! As the heart grows
older It will come to such sights colder By
and by, nor spare a sigh Though worlds
of wanwood lea/meal lie; And yet you will
weep and know why. No matter, child, the
name: Sorrow s springs are all the same. Nor
mouth had, no nor mind, expressed What
heart heard of, ghost guessed: It is the blight
man was born for, It is Margaret you mourn
for. —Gerard Manley Hopkins

There is but one truly serious philosophical problem, and that is suicide. —Albert Camus

The Encyclopedia of Philosophy defines the Problem of Evil as "the contradiction, or apparent contradiction, between the reality of evil on the one, and religious beliefs in the goodness and power of God...on the other." This contradiction is essential a metaphysical issue that takes two forms - deductive and inductive. However, Ronald Nash offers a third categorization of evil viewed as a "personal or pastoral problem." While a well-informed Christian should be equipped with the knowledge and ability to refute the philosophical and theological arguments that utilize the problem of evil against God, it is the pain and isolation that individuals suffer—the effects of evil—that constitute evil as a problem. Because man cannot overcome evil, he is left with his consciousness that now tortures him with its understanding. In a fundamental way, the problem of evil is now a problem of consciousness. In this I will attempt to redefine the problem of evil as man's consciousness or self-awareness and, in the light of this definition, to explain the Scriptural approach to dealing with both believers and non-believers about the problem of evil. Dr. Martha Nussbaum, a professor at Brown Uni-
versity, used Lucretius' epic poem. On the Nature of Things, to offer indirectly a definition of the problem of evil. Lucretius organized conscious beings into three distinct categories. The first category consists of the first humans who lacked the reflection to consider the frailty and mortality of life - they were undisturbed by death. The second category consists of the Epicurean gods who "have reflection without vulnerability" and thus live in eternal bliss. Caught between these extremes are modern men who are "the only beings both vulnerable and reflective, who go through life in the grip of fear of their own existence, straining to understand and also improve their condition through the reflective capacity that is also the source of much of their agony." Lucretius thought that human anxiety-stemmed from the vulnerable-fear of the god's wrath and offered a mechanistic explanation of the universe in order to dismiss the blind actions of foolish deities. His answer was to conquer the unknown by reason. Perfect reason would cast out all fear.
In modern times, Albert Camus reformulated the problem of evil when he said, "There is but one truly serious philosophical problem, and that is suicide." Camus also understands man's essential problem as his consciousness. This is most clearly asserted in his treatment of the ancient Greek myth of Sisyphus who convinced Pluto to temporarily release him from the underworld and the spent several years hiding from the gods. As punishment, he was eternally condemned to roll a large boulder up and down a long, steep hill forever. Camus comments, "If this myth is tragic, it is because [Sisyphus] is conscious. Where would his torture be...if at every step the hope of succeeding upheld him? The workman of today works everyday in his life at the same tasks... [but] it is tragic only at the rare moments when it becomes conscious." Thus man's consciousness of his dilemma, and not the dilemma itself, haunts him.Although written well over a century before Camus, Goethe's The Sorrows of Young Werther is a brilliant presentation of man's tragic situation. Werther, blindly ensnared by youthful passions and foolish hopes, is driven to suicide in an act of pure hatred of life and his fellow man. In the midst of his digression, he becomes acquainted with a local lunatic. Reflecting on the lunatic, he says of the man, " 'You were happy!' I exclaimed, 'as gay and contented as a man can be!' God of heaven! And is this the destiny of man? Is he only happy before he has acquired his reason, or after he has lost it?"
Significantly, the Bible's most extensive treatment of the problem of evil, the book of Job, also presents the perspective that man's consciousness is his real problem. In the third chapter, when despair has finally overwhelmed Job, the reader is given a chilling glimpse of suffering. Forsaking all pretense, Job curses his own existence. "'May the day perish on which I was born. May that day be darkness; May God above not seek it, nor the light shine upon it. May darkness and the shadow of death claim it." What can the Christian say to such despair? What is the answer that will heal the wound of sin?
First we must acknowledge that there is no "answer." The fall is not fixed with formulas or arguments. The problem of evil is separation from God and man. The answer, then, must be unity; the Biblical model for unity—for salvation—begins with communication. Indeed, God's image in man is distinguished by the type of communication God shares with man and the type that men share with one another. The mark of man qua man is linguistic in nature.
Walker Percy, inspired by the work of Charles Sander Peirce, simplified the anthropological hypothesis man is linguistically distinguished from non-man in his essay, "Is a Theory of Man Possible?" Percy classifies every event in the universe as either dyadic or tryadic. A dyadic event is "nothing more or less than the phenomena studied by the conventional sciences, whether the collision of subatomic particles...or the performance of a rat in learning to thread a maze." Triadic events are "man's transactions with symbols, of which...the prime example is his use of language." For humans, the first triadic event occurs when a child understands, for instance, that when his parent makes the sound "ball", the parent means that the sound "ball" means (i.e., signifies, refers to, etc.) the round object. It is the association of the sign with the object.
A triadic event between a person and a non-person occurs between two fundamentally dissimilar things. They share an "I-it" relationship. However, triadic events that occur between two humans are universally unique. Triadic interaction between people is more than a biological classification of the other but an af-
firmation of being, an interplay between equals. This "I-you or interpersonal relation is, accordingly, not merely a desirable state of affairs...but is rather the very condition of being and knowing and feeling in a human way." Understanding the importance of triadic communication is the key to understanding how God dealt with Job's suffering.
A surface reading of Job in light of the problem of evil, especially the tension between God's power and goodness, will seem lacking. God's entire confrontation with Job is one long-winded assertion of His own unfathomable power and purpose which Job has no right to question. However, Eleanore Stump, a philosophy professor at Cornell University, suggests that the form of God's communication constitutes an entirely separate mode of communication and, in the end, shapes the actual content of the words.
Dr. Stump asserts that the second-person dialogue from God to Job serve to personalize God's message to Job. The exact content cannot be known by a third party, but its effect upon Job was unmistakable, causing Job to instantly repent. Dr. Stump suggests that Job's complaint, which only questioned God's goodness, was personal. Job's prior relationship with God was one of trust and obedience. "His protest against God in the dialogues thus at least includes a charge of betrayal of trust. But for this charge, a face-to-face encounter can make all the difference." The significance of Job's story is three-fold. First, it clearly testifies that there is no answer for evil for the fallen human mind. Second, it shows that pain can be comforted. Third and most important, it shows that the method by which comfort is shared begins with a fundamental recognition of equality between humans. It redraws the lines by which Christians parse the world. More fundamental than the sinner-saved distinction is the unity of triadic beings - a unity that bridges all nationalities and cultural barriers. This final point is also important because it demands that Christians understand and share not only the content of God's communication but also the form of that communication insofar as the form determines the content. Therefore, just as God shows His own dealings with Job. so ought Christians deal with their fellow man.
While the problem of evil has no solution, there is hope for deliverance beyond the grave and hope for relief on this side. The core of the Biblical response is to imitate God and active care for our fellow man as equal beings before our almighty father.

Pure and Undefiled Religion: Why Bono may be a Better Christian than You

2004-11-15T14:00:00.000-08:00

By David Cooper
Once in a while, a truly great musician comes along makes rock-and-roll history. Artists such as the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Elvis, Jim Morrison, and Bob Dylan have made their permanent mark in the American psyche, and indeed in the musical consciousness of the world. After almost 25 years, U2 has earned their spot among the musical greats.
What makes U2 great is difficult to define. In the first place, they have achieved a longevity and relevance rarely enjoyed by rock bands. U2 has managed to craft a musical formula that has endured from the teenage punk sounds of Boy to the soulful melodies of All You Can 't Leave Behind. Their open faith and charitable works have given hope to millions. They have been described as the last great rock band, but if Bono has his way, they won't be going anywhere for a very long time.
Born Paul David Hewson in Dublin, Ireland, Bono is the lead singer of the rock group U2. As a teenager, Bono helped form the band in 1976 with three schoolmates. Early on, the band had little musical talent. What they lacked in talent, however, they more than made up in enthusiasm. They soon grew into accomplished musicians, destined to make their mark in music history.
In addition to the musical brilliance of the band, Bono has proven to be a quite effective political lobbyist. His work for the relief of third-world debt and AIDS in Africa has been the subject of much media attention. He was also an honored guest at the Republican and Democratic conventions. Books have been written about the greatness of U2, but few discuss the faith and work of its leader. Before one can understand why Bono does what he does, one must first understand where he came from.
The Life of Bono
Paul Hewson's early years were unique. He was born to a protestant mother and a Roman Catholic
father, a mixed marriage rare in the strife-torn Dublin of the 1960s. Before his death, his father Bobby described young Paul as a "bloody exasperating" child but one who was also very curious. He was always extremely optimistic and enthusiastic, traits that would remain for the rest of his life.
When he was 15, Hewson's mother died of an an-eurysm while attending her own father's funeral. The pain of this loss can be seen in much of his music. It was at this time that Hewson became interested in music and took up the guitar, drinking up the sounds of emerging punk music. During this time, young Hewson acquired his nickname, "Bono," from a hearing aid store called "Bono Vox." Somewhat prophetically, his friend Guggi, christened him with this Latin name meaning "good voice."
By the time Bono was 17, two more very important things had happened. He had met Alison Stewart, the woman who was to become his wife of over twenty years, and he had answered Larry Mullen Jr.'s advertisement on the school bulletin board to start a band. The result was U2.
The Faith of Bono
Dublin in the 1960s and 1970s was the scene of much religious violence and hatred. Bono saw evidence of this in his own family. It was his disgust with the sectarian conflict that drove him to the Shalom fellowship, a non-denominational charismatic home-church in Dublin.
It was at Shalom that three members of U2 would find Christ. Bono, Dave Evans, nicknamed "The Edge," and Larry became excited with their newfound faith, but it was Bono who lead the way. Bassist Adam Clayton would remain an agnostic. Bono was the first one interested in the Bible studies and fellowship meetings that would shape the faith of one of rock's most influential icons. It was at Shalom that Bono found the inspiration for his music, and ironically, it was his music that drove him from Shalom.
Many members of the Shalom fellowship began to condemn U2's music and their "involvement in the world." Bono, Edge, and Larry all struggled intensely between their passion for the Kingdom and their passion for their music. In the end, they choose a synthesis of both. Music permeated by their faith. This was unacceptable to many in Shalom and the members of the band eventually left, turning their back forever on organized religion. Their spiritual nourishment would come now through informal fellowships: theological discussion with Christian friends, on-the road Bible studies and the like. Although Bono had turned his back to religion, he had embraced Christ with a renewed fervor: "I have this hunger in me...every where I look; I see evidence of the Creator. But I don't see it as a religion, which has cut my people in two. I don't see Jesus Christ as being any part of a religion. Religion to me is almost what like when God leaves—and people devise a set of rules to fill the space." He later said "I often wonder if religion is the enemy of God. It's almost like religion is what happens when the Spirit has left the building."
Bono's reluctance to talk about his faith has sparked much criticism from the Christian community. However, it is evident the critics have never listened to his words or his music—at least not with any depth. Bono has always made the reasons for his reticence very plain:
The problem is, when I [talk about religion], the way it turns out in the tabloid papers here and in England is, 'Bono Pontificates on the Holy Trinity.' And then we're off! But at the same time, I can't let them gag me. There are the uninformed, unfocused thoughts of a student of these things, not a master.
U2 has also always been uncomfortable with the desire by many to label them as a "Christian" band. American pop-evangelicalism was trying to sanitize pop culture for the consumption of their squeaky-clean teens. While U2 was excited about Christ and learning about His Word in the early days of their conversion, they were ignorant of what Christianity meant for most of the world. Their first experience with American Christianity was revolting. Television evangelists and the like were largely unknown in their native Ireland. Bono said, "When I see these racketeers, these snake-oil salesmen on these right-wing television stations, asking not for your $20 or your $50, but your
$100 in the name of Jesus Christ, I want to throw up."
It was this initial revulsion that caused U2 to react they way they did to their "Christian" label. Bono and the others have acknowledged that manner in which they dealt with the labeling unnecessarily alienated much of the Christian community. However, in their attempts to reconcile with Christians, they remain uncompromising. Bono's views on the purpose of his music are very clear. When discussing his faith and music he said, "I believe carrying moral baggage is very dangerous for an artist. If you have a duty, it's to be true and not cover up the cracks. I love hymns and gospel music, but the idea of turning your music into a tool for evangelism is missing the point. Music is the language of the Spirit anyway. Its first function is praise to creation." But Bono's faith does not end here. Still the ever enthusiastic, optimistic boy from Dublin, he eagerly carries his faith to the next logical step—action.
The Works of Bono
In 1985, an energetic young man performed to raise money for famine relief in Africa. During the course of the show, the young man leaped from the stage into the crowd below, still crooning people to action. That man was Bono, and the concert was Live Aid 1985.
Bono's stage diving stunt was the genesis of U2's international fame and political activism. Shortly before their release of The Joshua Tree U2 involved themselves with Band Aid and Live Aid, movements designed to encourage action on famine relief. Few knew this Irish rock group, as popular as they were, was on the edge of superstardom.
Live Aid 1985 signified a transformation of the band. While The Joshua Tree was the culmination of what they had been building musically. Live Aid was the beginning of Bono's new mission—using rock-and-roll to change the world.
Since Live Aid, U2 has championed the cause of the needy everywhere. From third-world debt relief to funding for AIDS relief in Africa, U2 has used their star-power to help those suffering around the globe. For Bono, it is his Christian duty. "To me, faith in Jesus Christ that is not aligned to social justice—not aligned with the poor—is nothing."
Bono recognizes God's blessing in his life. He knows he has been given a gift and feels bound to use it for the greater good of humanity—loving his neighbor as himself. Bono recognizes the power of fame. "Celebrity is currency and we want to spend it this way," he says on his campaign for AIDS relief. His fervency for his faith has often been the force behind strong indictments against the church. "Christ's example is being demeaned by the Church if they ignore the new leprosy, which is AIDS." Perhaps speaking prophetically, he goes on, "the Church is the sleeping giant here. If it wakes up to what's really going on in the rest of the world, it has a real role to play. If it doesn't, it will be irrelevant."
Bono's anger with the church over this issue is not unwarranted. In a poll of American evangelicals in 2002, only 3 percent said they would "definitely help" an orphan of AIDS. Bono's assessment of Christianity is sadly on-target.
Judgementaiism, a kind of sense that people who have AIDS, well, they got it because they deserve it. Well, from my studies of the Scriptures, I don't see a hierarchy to sin. I don't see sexual immorality registering higher up on the list than institutional greed... problems we suffer from in the West.
Bono's tireless work on behalf of the poor has required much sacrifice. He delayed production of his 2000 album All That You Can 't Leave Behind for over a year to work with groups like Jubilee 2000, a coalition devoted to third-world debt relief. He has traveled across the globe, spending countless hours with economists and international bankers, learning and teaching along the way. His path has taken him to the halls of power across the globe, and he counts Presidents, Prime Ministers and even the Pope as partners in his mission. Bono's politics are not a betrayal of his faith, but the fruit of it. These are the works of Bono, the evidence of a vibrant faith in Jesus Christ.
"Go Ye and Do Likewise"
Jesus said that the entire law and prophets could be summed up in two simple commandments. The first was to love your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength; and the second was to love your neighbor as yourself. The apostle James defined pure and undefiled religion as simply helping orphans and widows in their affliction, and keeping oneself from the sins of this world.
Bono is a shining example of what true faith in Christ is all about. He does not put himself up as any type of Christian to be emulated, and would likely be uncomfortable with this article. However, Bono's faith is one that should be emulated.
He is not bound by a building, a denomination, or a prayer book. He is bound by a love of Jesus Christ for the grace He extended. Yet, if Bono is such a good Christian, why has the Christian community rejected him? The answer is simple. The church is worried about the wrong things.
Today's Christian culture is obsessed with externalities. We create our Christian music, Christian television, movies, and magazines. We have Christian colleges and businesses. We have created a parallel culture, one which believes a squeaky-clean image is evidence of true faith. This culture rejects U2, and many like them, because they do not fit into the acceptable mold. They drink, they smoke, and they curse at their concerts and on national television. However, the church has missed the point. Obsession with externalities has blinded the church to the true issue. Jesus ate with sinners and reprobates. He loved all men as He loved himself. All he asked is that we do likewise. Christ did not give us a set of rules to follow as evidence of faith, He simply told us to love God and our fellow man, and to help them in their affliction. For as we help one another, we do the same to Him.
Bono's faith acknowledges and embraces this pivotal tenet of Christianity. His music proclaims his love for God and His children. His concerts explode with an effervescent attitude of worship that affects all who experience it. As James said, faith without works is dead. Bono's faith is alive and evident in all aspects of his life. The church would do well to learn from his example.

Insert Moral Here: A Brief Critique of Christian Fiction through the Lens of Thomas Mallory's Morte Darthur

2004-11-15T13:00:00.000-08:00

By Brianna Springer
American Christians have created a bubble for themselves. Perhaps the most visible is the "Christian" bookstore. For the faithful, these establishments are little snatches of celestial rest. Generally they are meticulously clean and play wholesome, elevator-like music at a sleep-inducing volume. Their shelves are lined with books that promise happier, more peaceful lives. For children, brightly colored plush toys abound, just like in secular stores. Only there's a difference. These cuddly creations spout a plethora of Christian platitudes at the push of a button.
All of this can seem quite pleasant, even virtuous. On reflection, however, the modern Christian approach to culture is ineffective and impotent. It sterilizes human nature and makes complex problems seem simple or non-existent. This trend is nowhere more sadly evident than in the realm of popular Christian fiction.
Gone are the days of Thomas Mallory and Fydor Dostoevsky. Authors of that brand and caliber wrote from a Christian perspective, but they wrote with subtlety, finesse, and realism. In their place are writers such as Lori Wick and Frank Peretti. This new breed is professedly, unabashedly, and even—if one may so express it—disgustingly Christian. Far from subtle, many modern Christian authors bludgeon their readers with the gospel. Somehow, Christians have come to believe that, if a work is to be profoundly Christian, it has to be grotesquely explicit and heavy-handed. Such thinking is misguided.
So what does it mean to be "profoundly Christian" if overt references to Christ and salvation don't fit the bill? Two of the most common misconceptions are: "To be profoundly Christian, literature must have a moral" and "To be profoundly Christian, literature must portray clear distinctions between good and evil." Both of those statements are partially true and thus partially helpful. Mallory's Morte Darthur, however, simultaneously demonstrates and transcends their
deficiencies.
First, "To be profoundly Christian, literature must have a moral." There are many morals that one could reasonably draw from Mallory's masterful recounting of Camelot's demise. "Do not commit adultery" or "Be loyal to your king" are two obvious examples. Those injunctions play key roles in the work. If neither occurred to the reader. Morte Darthur would not be as powerful and Mallory would not be as awe-inspiring. Such negligence would reduce the work to a morass of battle scenes and overblown speeches. But to view Morte Darthur as merely conveying the wisdom of those two commands is to settle for a shallow reading that loses the scope of Mallory's accomplishment.
Second. "To be profoundly Christian, literature must portray clear distinctions between good and evil." This maxim is problematic when applied to Morte Darthur. True. Mallory does paint as villains some characters who commit immoral acts. Most notable is Sir Mordred, recalcitrant knight and killer of his father the king. However, even more striking are Mallory's sympathetic portrayals of Sir Lancelot and Guinevere, two adulterers whose misdeeds prove the catalyst for the tale's disastrous events. Sir Ector's eulogy of Lancelot expresses Mallory's empathy succinctly and pointedly:
Thou were the courteous! knight that ever bore shield. And thou were the truest friend to thy lover that ever bestrode horse, and thou were the truest lover, of a sinful man, that ever loved woman, and thou were the kindest man that ever struck with sword [emphasis added].The phrase "truest... of a sinful man" is key. Mallory shows a deep and abiding understanding of human reality. He skillfully avoids the trap of oversimplification.
Good and evil exist, granted, and Mallory freely acknowledges that much. But he refuses to enforce a strict dichotomy between the two among his characters. Mallory vividly demonstrates that good and evil are both within the potential of every man, even every good man.
That message may be more difficult to stomach than saccharine accounts in which good always does good, evil always does evil, and good always triumphs nicely and neatly at the end. If the reader wants only perfect heroes, Mallory's brutally honest depiction of the demise of Arthur will be troubling. The reader is not comforted by any flawless triumph of virtue over villainy. On the contrary, he is reminded that even "good" guys can be bad.
Through the course of Morte Darthur the reader grows to love Lancelot, and Guinevere. Such affection is fitting. He identifies with them. He may even see himself in them as he vicariously lives the adventures of the Round Table and the court of Camelot. The twist at the end. the war between Arthur and Lancelot, is all the more jarring and effective. Mallory is saying in a subtle but profound way, "Beware! These giants stumbled. You are no better than they. Take care."
At first reading, the flaws Mallory paints onto his
great heroes may seem surprising and out of step with any Christian message or moral in the work. On further consideration, though, one discovers that it is precisely the opposite. Like the heroes of the Bible, from King David to the apostle Peter, readers learn more compelling and important lessons from the fallibility of heroes than from their perfection. It is aggravating, perhaps, that Lancelot and Guinevere failed so miserably, but it is more true to life and helpful that they did so.
Mallory forces readers to wrestle with their own frail, fallen humanity. He does not placate desires for easy resolution. Morte Darthur is sobering. Long after the reader flips the final leaf of the volume, the questions the story raises will not easily be put aside. Nor should they. Insipid moralizing fades away. Morte Darthur remains because Mallory challenges readers on the visceral, intellectual, spiritual, and moral levels alike. Without sugar-coating it, Mallory makes the universal personal.
That is what all great writers must do to be worthy of the designation. Christian authors should hold themselves to the same high standard. They must realize that not everyone lives in the bubble. If Christians don't meet people where they are, they'll never meet them at all.

Review of the albium "From a Basement on a Hill"

2004-11-15T12:00:00.000-08:00

By Steven Rybicki
Smith's 2003 suicide functions as a melancholy accent to his work. Investigators are still perplexed about the nature of his death. They are stuck on the question of whether it was a suicide or a homicide. Though to fans and critics, of course, it will always be suicide. We were all waiting for it... anticipating it... suspending some interpretations of his records for that moment when his "suicide" would lend those opinions authenticity. He's a Camus, he's a Drake, he's a Co-bain and we are all "responsible" for this death in the same way he is not the "author" of any of his lyrics. As produced, arranged, and programmed by Rob Schnapf and Joanna Blome, Elliott Smith's posthumously released record, From a Basement on the Hill begins, "Last stop for a resolution/end of the line, is it confusion1."' Quite appropriately, as evidenced by his mystery shrouded death, he never seems to care whether he answers that question. This record finds him again pontificating upon his emotional landscape. Additionally, he opts to open a new wound: a self-loathing hostility and contempt he feels towards his work and that work's correspondence to, and participation in, the record industry. He spits out, "I've got no new act to amuse you/I've got no desire to use you, you know/but anything that 1 could do would never be enough for you."
The crowning achievement of the record is the two track climax, "King's Crossing" and "Twilight." Personal and professional issues dominate the cuts. The record is too recent to posit these as quintessential offerings from Elliott, but all of his musical and textual hallmarks are present and finely, painfully, and melodically informed. Issues of involvement in the record industry are front and center, as well as the perfunctory Elliott Smith lamentations on love, loss, addiction, and despondence.
"I can't prepare for death more than I already have" is the haunting line that figures "King's Crossing" as an epic piece of songwriting. His melodies emote and soar and he obsesses over his writing and career:
"The method acting that pays my bills/keeps a fat man feeding in Beverly Hills/I got a heavy metal mouth it knows obscenity/and I get my check from the trash treasury/because I took my insides out."
He includes surreal, visceral images that serve as homage to his Beatle heroes, John and Paul, but are profoundly relevant to the music scene that has existed in what Stylus magazine named the "Beatles are Dead" era of the indie record (which began after the release of Radiohead's OK Computer). Elliot contributes: "It's Christmas time/and the needle's on the tree/a skinny Santa bringing something to me" and "open your parachute and grab your gun/falling down like an omen, a setting sun." The song ends with a brilliant, bitter line that incorporates Smith's self-hatred and love of music: "But I don't care if I f— up/I'm going on a date/with a rich white lady/ain't life great?give me one good reason not to do it/(because I love you)/so do it."
"Twilight" is one of Smith's most brilliant blends of hope and despair set in that familiar context of contact between men and women. Light is the dominant motif of the song, "go off to sleep in the sunshine/I don't want to see the day when it's dying" and "because your candle burns too bright/well, I almost forgot it was twilight." But the song is most poignant with his description of yet another female savior of his wretched, retching soul: "I haven't laughed this hard in a long time/I better stop now before I start crying." And he alternates between the "she's a sight to see, she's good to me/I'm already somebody's baby/she's a pretty thing and she knows everything/but I'm already somebody's baby" and "I'm nice to you, I could make it through/that you're already somebody's baby/if I could make you smile if you stayed a while/but how long will you stay with me baby."
The record ends w ith "A Distorted Reality is Now a Necessity to be Free." Adopted as one of the songs on Moveon.org's Soundtrack for the Future of America, the track contains intimate imagery entangled with political dejection. The personal images of the song strikingly focus upon Smith's resignation to his drug usage and depression, "I'm floating in a black bal-loon/o.d. on Easter afternoon/my mama told me baby stay clean/there's no in between" and he pleads with his object of attention, "shine on me baby because it's rainin' in my heart." Smith transitions to a more political tone with the song's chorus "You disappoint me/you people rakin' in on the world/ the devil's script sells/you the heart of a blackbird" and the record's final lyric, "sun is rising on a chopping glare/rain dropping acid blotter in the air/a distorted reality is now a necessity to be free/so disappointing/so first I put it all down to luck/god knows why my country don't give a f—." The ending line is appropriately Smithian in its
politics because of its context. Politics is not a process which demands attention for its "essence," rather, it's only another aspect of Smith's grief about the world around him. It is noteworthy to see the shift to the "political" because of the rare incidence of Smith's work concentrating on social, rather than personal, ideas.
Attention to this record has remained on the evaluation of this record in Smith's oeuvre. I don't know where to place it, because if it's not obvious by this point in the review, I'll condescend to admit: I'm an Elliott Smith partisan. His work is soothing for me, and as selfish as this sounds, I believe it's true: I miss him.

Notes on the Times September 2004

2004-09-15T20:00:00.000-07:00

Our Unbearable Lightness of Being (Why We Exist)
By Steven Rybicki and David J. Shaw

Bourgeois Nation: a review of "The Right Nation"
By David J. Shaw

The Protestantism of Kierkegaard
By Matthew Brownfield

Christian Love and Patriotism
By Michaela Willi

Eliot's "Reflections on Vers Libre"
By Roger Emmelhainz

Where is Able, Your Brother?
By Brooks Lampe

A Review of the Film "Garden State"
By Steven Rybicki

Film as Historical Perspective: Vietnam through Two Perspectives
By Jonathan Krull

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Our Unbearable Lightness of Being (Why We Exist)

2004-09-15T19:00:00.000-07:00

By Steven Rybicki and David Shaw
(Reprinted from the inaugural issue)
When we arrived at Patrick Henry College as freshmen, we knew that we had all the right answers. College, we deduced, would be a good opportunity for us to iron out some minor epistemological details. Cocky and eager to impress, we were quick to assert ourselves; resolutely explaining our opinions, our "knowledge." We spoke arrogantly, desperate to display our wisdom, but really only revealing our engrained insecurities and overall naiveté. We were dogmatic, excited to argue—not to learn, but to demonstrate superiority. Both of us exuded a divisive arrogance which manifested itself in a convert-or-kill mentality. We had little tolerance for those with whom we disagreed. We cannot over-emphasize the height of our folly: to paraphrase Bob Dylan, we knew about Man, and God, and Law, and we knew that we were the brains behind it all.
Then, our classes started to have their effect. Initially, we offered our pat, Sunday school answers. And for those dutiful purges of recycled ignorance, we received poor grades. Those mediocre marks from genuinely unimpressed professors shook our smug attitude. Our interaction with the faculty at PHC led to a deconstruction of our pretensions and laughably simplistic presuppositions. It began to dawn on us that our "knowledge" was terminally deficient. Both of us being motivated perfectionists who genuinely fear any form of "failure," we started seeking to learn.
The genesis of this organization lies in the essential fat that our professors have offered sensitivity and guidance hand-in-hand with their constructive and complete devastation of our intellectual "accomplishments." Our professors pushed us and, in doing so, provided us with an opportunity to learn, grow, and
mature. We owe them a debt we cannot easily repay.
The beauty of a liberal education is not the knowledge accumulated, but the chance to learn how to learn. To be completely honest, we are still in the process of discovering the proper questions. Consequently, it is apparent that our goal is not to find or assert "answers," but to discern how to continue to uncover and posit the right questions. Perhaps the most important thing we now know is who little we actually knew. In this environment, we have discovered the virtue of critical reflection. Hopefully, enough of our ineptitude and folly has been stripped away so that we are in a better position of demanding and understanding internally coherent, intellectually accomplished conclusions.
With our minds broadened we are now beginning to sense the immensity and complexity of the world around us. Accordingly we acknowledge the immaturity and childishness of our previous assumptions. When we were children, to echo St. Paul, we spoke like children, thought like children, reasoned like children. In our time at Patrick Henry College, we have resolved to give up our childish ways.
With this background, the Alexis de Tocqueville Society exists to foster and further the spirit of critical reflection that has given us and continues to give us so much. We are not a group of people who have arrived; our goal is not to substitute sophisticated arrogance for simplistic arrogance. Rather, we want to create a context wherein we can continue to mature and where we can help to cultivate collective intellectual growth on campus. So, we invite you to join us as we begin to discover what it means to pursue Beauty and Truth.

Bourgeois Nation: a review of "The Right Nation"

2004-09-15T18:00:00.000-07:00

By David J. Shaw
Conservative watching is in vogue these days. Formerly the domain of left-wing groups seeking to marginalize conservatives, mainstream media is increasingly beginning to pay attention to conservatives as conservatives. From the Washington Post to CNN, more and more stories are focusing on the conservative movement, not merely as a subgroup of the Republican Party, but as a movement in its own right. Most notably, the New York Times now has a reporter dedicated to the "conservative beat." Joining the fray are two British writers. John Micklethwait and Adrian Wooldridge, with their new book The Right Nation: Conservative Power in America. Micklethwait and Wooldndge, both writers for the Economist, approach America as detached foreigners and veteran observers. While not without bias or preference, they are nevertheless able to view America and its conservative movement as a whole, and frame their analysis within a larger picture. The result is a remarkably insightful, relevant, and readable book on the American conservative movement. This accomplishment is achieved because Micklethwait and Wooldridge understand that American conservatism and American exceptionalism must be understood in relation to one another.
I.
The :hes;s of 7>:e Right Nation is that American conservatism exp'.r.ns American exceptionalism. The reason Amer.cj :s so d-.rYerent from France or the rest of Western Europe :s recause of the modern American conservative moverr.er.:. There is no foreign equivalent to American conservatism. Indeed, Americans largely misunderstand "conservative" European parties. "Christian Democrats" are not "Christian" in the same way that James Do'oson is "Christian." Conservatives in Europe are nothing like conservatives in America. As a result. Micklethwait and Wooldridae araue, America is fundamentally a more
conservative nation.
Micklethwait and Wooldridge's thesis is compelling in that America is different from Europe and one of the most striking differences between the two is the existence of a distinctively American conservatism. But, is America different because America is conservative or is America conservative because America is different?
II.
The Right Nation is both a "portrait and an argument." The portrait is better than the argument. Micklethwait and Wooldridge provide a Tocquevillian survey of modern American conservatism, ranging from an overview of the past to an analysis of the present to predictions about the future. With brevity and wit characteristic of writers for the Economist, Micklethwait and Wooldridge are able to give a broad overview while also providing a plethora of detail and careful analysis. The book is divided into four parts: history, anatomy, prophecy, exception. The first three sections are the portrait; the last, the argument. Before these topics are discussed, however, Micklethwait and Wooldridge define American conservatism and what makes it distinct. American conservatism shares with traditional conservative political philosophy a deep suspicion of state power, a preference for liberty over equality, and an abiding patriotism; it deviates from traditional conservatism in that it is populist, anti-establishment, and progressive in outlook. Thus, American conservatism is a contradiction. It is conservatism heavily influenced by classical liberalism (and I believe a dose of progressivism). The result: social conservatives and libertarians, both operating under the same basic rubric, both part of the same "movement." Despite the incongruity of American conservatism, this meshing of competing ideologies has produced a vibrant political force. How? in.
Chapters one through four answer this question, covering the rise of conservatism in America. Micklethwait and Wooldridge's history of modern American conservatism is concise and compelling. It is the most interesting aspect of their work because it lays the foundation necessary to understand the rest of The Right Nation.
The story of American conservatism's rise to dominance begins, ironically, with its utter defeat. In the 1950s, conservatism was the refuge of marginalized cranks. Some of these were deservedly marginalized: elements of Ayn Rand are goofy and Joe McCarthy was both a bully and a shameless self-promoter. Others were simply born in the wrong century. Whatever the case, liberalism dominated. Three things began to spark a change. The first was the rise of credible right-wing intellectuals-most notably economists. These economists, ranging from Hayek to Friedman (both at the University of Chicago), argued for the superiority of the free market over government interference and clashed directly with the Keynesian orthodoxy of the day. The second and third factors Micklethwait and Wooldridge point to can be generalized as the shifting of the political center of gravity to the South and the West. The South began to be dissatisfied with the Democratic Party-particularly its stand on civil rights-and the West continued to grow and its population tended to be more libertarian in outlook. These strands-the intellectuals, the demography, and the racism-all came together in the person of Barry Goldwater and his 1964 presidential candidacy. Goldwater, an Arizonan and thus a westerner, was a conservative of libertarian leanings who relied on the ideas of the free market intellectuals and who broke the Democratic stranglehold on the South. He also lost in a landslide. In his loss, though, was the foreshadowing of the coming conservative dominance.
Revitalized conservatism, while necessary to explain the "Right nation,7' is not sufficient in Micklethwait and Wooldridge's estimation. The conservative rise to power must be understood both
through the emergence of a credible conservative alternative and the liberal loss of credibility. The 1960s was a remarkable decade. The optimism of the early 1960s is only matched by the pessimism of the late 1960s. And in this shift, the unified liberalism that had confidently governed the country since the 1930s cracked. The New Left radicalized the Democratic Party and, in doing so, alienated millions of traditionally Democratic voters-white ethnics, Roman Catholics, union members, and more. Nixon built on this with his rhetoric of the "Silent Majority"' and, while not a conservative by any means, continued to lay the foundation for conservative power. All of the elements that had begun to germinate with Goldwater were in full blossom by the time of Ronald Reagan.
If the story of the latter half of the twentieth century, at least in terms of American politics, is the rise to dominance of conservatism-as Micklethwait and Wooldridge claim it is-then how do you explain Bill Clinton? The answer is threefold: (1) Bill Clinton was elected as a moderate-a Southern centrist corrective to Northeastern liberalism; (2) when Bill Clinton tried to govern as a liberal, as he did from 1993 to 1994, he was soundly rejected; and (3) the successes of the Clinton era are moderate, even conservative, in nature: welfare reform and balanced budgets. Bill Clinton illustrates not that liberalism was still viable but that the only viable national Democrats were moderate, non-liberal ones. Thus, The Right Nation argues, the political center of gravity has shifted right. George W. Bush may have just barely won in 2000, but America is more conservative than it is liberal.
IV.
Surveying the current landscape of American conservatism. Micklethwait and Wooldridge note p.vo main thrusts: the first is the intellectual and political ieader-ship-the brains: and the second, the grassroots-the brawn.
One rhing that separates American conservatism from American iiberaiism-and helps explain its dominance-is the sense of purpose that is possesses. The current conservative establishment, or counter- establishment, came to maturity and defined itself against what it perceived as a liberal monolith. It is ridiculous to speak of the conservative movement as a "vast right-wing conspiracy." at least in the sense of a coordinated cabal, but there is a sense of "us" versus "them," and "we" are all on the same side. The Right Nation captures this as it examines the intellectual and political leadership of conservative America. Think tanks, such as the American Enterprise Institute, the Heritage Foundation, and the Cato Institute, feature prominently as does Bill Kristol's Weekly Standard. Micklethwait and Wooldridge also highlight the emergence of right-wing media outlets, most notably the Fox News Channel and the "blogosphere," including Andrew Sullivan and Glenn Reynolds. These new media are more than simply a corrective to an establishment media biased against conservatives; they are more potent because they are self-consciously conser-vative-they take sides without apology, something established (liberal?) media can only do with great risk to its own reputation.
The brawn of American conservatism can be roughly divided into two categories: antigovernment conservatives and social conservatives. The former is composed of an assortment of tax-cutters and gun nuts; the later, primarily religious conservatives. The superficial contradiction is striking: the first group wants government out of people's lives; the second group wants government in people's lives. This contradiction would seem insurmountable (and might indeed be) except for the fact that there is significant overlap between the two: the same people who own guns, want lower taxes, and think the government should stay out of their lives also attend religiously conservative churches and -.van: :o see both abortion and gay marriage bar.r.ed. The ideas defining American conservatism may be dichotomous, but the movement itself is a spectrum. There are enough conservatives who define themselves as both pro-gun and pro-life to bridge the gap between the libertarians who desire to legalize marijuana and the Christians who want to ban alcohol (at least for now).
V.
Having observed both conservatism's rise to, and its possession of, power, the authors next address its future. Will conservatism dominate or decline? In Micklethwait and Wooldridge's estimation, both are possible. Demographics, cultural trends, and recent history seem to point to a bright future for conservatism in general and the Republican Party in particular. At the same time, conservatism has its pitfalls. There is much contradiction in the conservative movement-is it too much to imagine it fracturing and imploding? The Right Nation explores both possibilities. The advice it offers? The Republican Party must avoid becoming "too Southern, too greedy, too contradictory." That is, avoid overemphasizing divisive social issues such as abortion and avoid abusing the privileges of power and running up massive deficits. In order to grow and maintain hegemony, conservatives must keep their current coalition together and continue to attract more people to it. Extremism scares moderates, so, Micklethwait and Wooldridge stress, conservatives must shun extremism.
In the final aspect of their portrait of American conservatism, Micklethwait and Wooldridge examine conservatives "behind enemy lines": black intellectuals, college students, and women. Blacks, youth, and women are traditionally liberal constituencies. Conservatism is making inroads, though. Black intellectuals, ranging from Thomas Sowell to Alan Keyes to Ward Connerly, are strong advocates against affirmative action and for school vouchers. The College Republicans is a massive student organization that boasts of producing Karl Rove and serves as a farm team for the Republican Party. Conservative women, particularly the blonde bombshells on Fox News, are wrestling "women's issues" away from Democrats. The trend for conservative America is bright.
VI.
Is American conservatism the cause of American exceptionalism, or is it a consequence? The Right Nation argues that it is the cause. America is different because America is conservative. I disagree. America isn't truly conservative, or, rather, America is only conservative according to a thoroughly American definition of "conservatism." There is no true Right-wing in America, nor has there ever been. Monarchy and fascism never caught hold in America; nor, for that matter, did true Left-wing movements such as socialism and communism. The United States may be to the right of contemporary Europe, with its greater tolerance of economic inequality and support for the death penalty, but not long ago it was to the left. Fundamentally, though, America is neither Left nor Right but Center.
The reason, I believe, lies in America's founding. America represents a pre-radicalized version of modernity. The roots of the American Revolution are, at their most ambitious, classically liberal. Thus, America is essentially moderate. Regime level questions were settled irrevocably in 1787 and nothing since then has represented any significant deviation from them. The Civil War, even, was fought over the appropriate application of those founding principles. Have there been changes or shifts? Undoubtedly, but they have been subtle and without acknowledgement.
The Progressives are, perhaps, the most ambitious American movement since its founding. Even they, though, sought not to repeal or overturn but only modify what the founders wrought-to achieve Jeffersonian ends through Hamiltonian means.
America is comfortably liberally democratic. I mean that not in an Americanized understanding of "liberal," which thinks only on the level of small party politics, but rather as a statement of great party politics, for all modern American conservatives are liberal democrats at heart. And they share this heritage with "Liberal Democrats." The quibble between American "conservatives" and American "liberals" has nothing to do with liberalism or conservatism. At best it deals with an argument over the precise interpretation of "life" or "freedom," and typically only truly relates to power and who gets to dole out the rewards to whom. "The business of America is business," the saying goes, and how true it is. Americans care about money. Religion is important, too, but only to a moderate degree. America isn't the Right nation, it's the bourgeois nation.

The Protestantism of Kierkegaard

2004-09-15T17:00:00.000-07:00

By Matthew Brownfield
Søren Kierkegaard concludes the third problema of Fear and Trembling by writing, "Either there is a paradox, that the single individual as the particular stands in an absolute relation to the absolute, or Abraham is done for" (144). According to Kierkegaard, the knight of faith carries on an unmediated relationship with God. By necessity, he is "God's confidant, the Lord's friend, and... [addresses] God in heaven as Thou'" (105). These statements, if read in isolation, might pass as Protestant platitudes; however, their implication for ethics merit a more serious exploration. When Kierkegaard speaks of an "absolute relation to the absolute," he is placing the knight of faith, in this case Abraham, beyond the realm of the ethical. Through Abraham's active willingness to sacrifice his son, the patriarch transcends the universal (ethical) on the strength of the absurd. According to Kierkegaard, this necessary "leap of faith" frees Abraham, and all subsequent knights of faith, from ethical considerations. One is to act only in "absolute relation to the absolute." This suspension of a shared ethic marks Kierkegaard's departure from general Protestant thought.
It is an accepted Protestant belief that Christ is the sole mediator between God and man. Since Christ is one with God. and since man knows Christ through faith, Protestants should agree that a knight of faith knows God in an absolute way through faith. However, Kierkegaard goes further than most Protestants by claiming that this intimate relationship with God necessarily transcends the ethical. This difference in position stems from two related disagreements. First, Kierkegaard considers the ethical to be the sole property of the "systematizers," a group of philosophers whom he despises. And, second. Kierkegaard believes Abraham's act must be replicable by others in order for Abraham to be the "founder of faith."
Both the Preface and Epilogue seem to suggest one of the underlying purposes for Fear and Trembling was to expose the inhumanity of the moral musings of Hegel and Kant. Kierkegaard responds to their systematic, antiseptic view of man's interaction with God with a bold cry for faith. He attacks the notion that "the ethical is the universal and as such, in turn, the divine" (98). For Kierkegaard, there must be a higher telos than the ethical, and God must be known more intimately than "in an altogether abstract sense as the divine" (98). Kierkegaard wants the modem moralist to look into the souls of individual men, not to force a general framework on top of humanity. He also wants people to taste the fear men once felt toward God and to recognize the struggle of faith. For Kierkegaard, neither God nor mankind can be categorized in neat divisions.
An attack upon the ethics of modernity is not necessarily in contradiction with Protestantism. However, denying the basis for shared, knowable standards for actions presents a conflict with Protestant thought. Kierkegaard, using the narrative of Abraham, totally individualizes the ability to judge moral action. He says, "Faith is just this paradox, that the single individual is higher than the universal,...that having been in the universal, the single individual sets himself apart as the particular above the universal" (84). Abraham, the knight of faith, breaks an ethical command not to murder by his plan to sacrifice his son. Through this action, Abraham receives God's praise and proves his faith. Therefore, for Kierkegaard, the act of faith can include the breaking of an ethical standard. Kierkegaard does not make a public transgression of the ethical a necessary part of becoming the knight of faith (e.g., the knight of faith described on 68-69), but, rather, requires an internal denial of the universal and an absolute trust in the absolute. This paradox, the teleological suspension of the ethical, explains how Abraham can be the knight of faith while disobeying a universal commandment of God.
Kierkegaard succeeds in destroying the idea that obedience to a systematized ethic is the highest end of man, but he also destroys the idea that any universal (i.e., known and shared) ethical standards bind the knight of faith. Protestants can agree with the first point of destruction. For the Protestant, ethics is a sub-category for judging action, not the end of action. Man's highest duty is to God. However, in contradiction to the second destruction, man also has the duty to love his neighbor. The Bible is very specific about the ways one loves his neighbor. Scripture relates many universal prohibitions against actions, such as theft, murder, rape, and lying. These standards are written for all to see, and scripture commands Christians to rebuke one another when individuals transgress these rules. Protestants cannot ignore these scriptural commands. Therefore, while they may agree with Kierkegaard that the "systematizers" needed to be destroyed, Scripture provides a basis for ethics apart from the theories of modernity.
The problem for the Protestants centers on the fact that God commanded Abraham to kill Isaac, an innocent. This appears to be inconsistent with even the scriptural ethic. So, Protestants must provide a solution that allows for Abraham's action to be praiseworthy, but still maintains the universal principles revealed in Scripture. The solution to the dilemma involves the second Kierkegaardian and Protestant disagreement.
The general response to the question of replic-ability concerning Abraham's act, a response which seems to chafe Kierkegaard, is that God was testing Abraham's faith at a very specific time, in a specific manner, and for a specific purpose. Kierkegaard's response is that if Abraham's act is qualified by context, then "let's forget him, for why bother remembering a past that cannot be made into a present" (60). In order for Kierkegaard's framework to hold, in order for Abraham to be the "founder of faith," an act similar to Abraham's must be replicable by any knight of faith. He makes this point by condemning the modem-day
preacher who overflows with righteous indignation toward the insomniac who considers killing his own son (58-59, 81). Kierkegaard does not want to judge off-hand, for perhaps the insomniac, like Abraham, is a knight of faith who stands in an "absolute relation to the absolute." However, a Protestant would quickly condemn the insomniac, for it is against the law of God to murder, and the killing of an innocent is murder. The Protestant position is that God does not reveal himself in an individual fashion in order to command an individual to transgress scripture.
Protestants do not need Abraham's act to be replicable in order for Abraham to be the father of faith, for Protestants make a distinction in the way God relates to man. Man receives salvation directly from God, knows God in a personal way, worships God without mediation, and prays directly to God. In this regard, man stands in an "absolute relation to the absolute." However, God has revealed his laws for action in a universal manner. All men can look at Scripture and can discern the way they should act. In this regard, man's understanding of God is mediated by Scripture, and he is then bound by the universal.
Therefore, Abraham is still the founder of Faith, for he was the first to receive the promise of the Messiah. He teaches Christians the way to worship God, and the gives an example of humble obedience. However, Abraham is not the founder of ethics. Instead, Abraham operates in a similar way as Aeneas did for the Romans. He transmits an ethic from one city to the next. Both Aeneas and Abraham left the land of their fathers for the purpose of establishing a new kingdom. As such, the ethics of a people were internalized in one person for the purpose of transmission to a new land. This arrangement was not permanent. When Rome rose, and law was established, citizens obeyed it. It did not matter that Aeneas, the model for the pious man, did things they were forbidden to do. for he was in the special position of bearing within his family the gods of future Rome. In the same way, Abraham the man represents the whole people of God. God planted within him and his seed the ethic for His future people, and gave Abraham direct revelation in matters of both faith and action. Hence, for Abraham, there was no distinction between the way in which God revealed himself-Abraham stood in an "absolute relation to the absolute." However, after Christ, the Promise of Abraham, established the church and the apostles completed the Scriptures, Christians began to obey the fulfilled law of the city of God. This law presents God's complete revelation concerning action, and does so in a universal manner. As such, Christians are not to transgress the law, for in doing so they disobey God. Furthermore, the completeness of the law means that God will not reveal
Himself in a different way in the future. Therefore, Christians stand in an "absolute relation to the absolute" in matters of faith, but God mediates himself to them through Scripture for matters of practice.
In conclusion, while Kierkegaard effectively destroys the shallow view of ethics presented by the "systematizers," he fails to address a Protestant view of ethics and the distinctions Protestants make concerning the way God reveals Himself to man. In doing so, he too hastily relieves the knight of faith from his secondary duty to the universal for the purposes of his primary duty to God.

Christian Love and Patriotism

2004-09-15T16:00:00.000-07:00

By Michaela Willi
I am glad I live in the United States. I am frightened when its security is breached. I feel more kinship with Americans than with people from other countries. Yet I wince when a politician implies that American patriotism is something holy. This is because I do not attribute my "patriotism" to my Christianity, but to my self-interested human nature. As a selfish human being, I naturally will prefer to belong to the strongest and most prosperous nation in the world. I will be frightened when the collective security is threatened because my security and that of my family and friends is also threatened. I will feel a greater attachment to the people who share a common language and culture. Christians can certainly be thankful that they live in a nation that enjoys relative security, liberty, and prosperity. Since they will presumably be living with their fellow countrymen, Christians also have the responsibility to act towards them in a loving manner.
However, the absence of national awareness in the New Testament, the division of humanity into believers and non-believers, and Christ's own detachment from nationality, has led me to believe that national identity itself is a-Christian, and its exacerbated form, termed "patriotism," can become anti-Christian.
The New Testament recognizes civil government. In general, the governments that exist are supposed to render justice and order society. Romans 13 is probably the most detailed. Here Paul tells us to "submit" to the government. In other places, Christ tells us to "render unto Caesar what is Caesar's." All of these directives were issued toward the Roman government and sound rather like passive acceptance. Christians weren't the only ones practicing passivity at this time. There are few ways to react to omnipotent emperors who claim they're gods, appoint their horse consul, and murder senators. Submission would have been easy enough, but try to conjure up patriotism for
Tiberius or Caligula. Interestingly, the Bible lays out codes of behavior for fathers and church elders but none for rulers. Of course, it would have been rather futile to sculpt anyone in the Roman senate into something resembling a biblical leader.
1 Peter 2:17 and Matthew 19:19 are amazing verses because they succinctly summarize Christian attitudes toward our brothers, our neighbors, our God, our family and our government. We are supposed to "love," or or/c^ei^etc our neighbor (Mt. 19:19), aycc-Trare our brother (1 Pet. 2:17) and, in another verse (Eph. 5:25), our wives. We are supposed to honor (Tiu.a) our parents (Mt. 19:19) and our king (1 Pet 2:17 - pamAecc Ttu.(XT£). We are also supposed to honor everybody (TiavTCtq TtiraaT£). Thus, the government can claim none of our love and only the "honor" Christians are supposed to show to everybody, including, one might venture to conjecture, the French and the Palestinians.
St. Augustine did believe people were divided in their allegiance. They owe allegiance either to the City of God or the City of Man. God certainly favored one nation, Israel, above all the others in the Old Testament. Nations that threatened the Israelites were destroyed and Israel was used as a tool of judgment against the wicked nations. This changes in the New Testament. Israel is conquered and scattered and the Church is the new recipient of God's revelation and favor. This Church is a supranational entity, extending to all parts of the world. Granted, certain nations have a larger concentration of Christians than others, but this does not sanctify a nation as a whole, nor does a constitution that allows and even fosters religion make a nation "Christian." God's work will be done in the world whether nations persecute Christians or not. In Revelation. God does not divide people to be judged by nations. He divides Christians into churches and everybody else into Jews and Gentiles. Christ himself remained aloof from the fierce battle the Jewish zealots were waging against the occupying Roman superpower, although the Israelites, more than any other national group, seem to possess divine patronage. Both Jewish and Roman officials baited him, but he responded almost evasively. He neither condoned nor condemned either side.
In fact, national identity, like racial identity, can lead to bigotry when taken to the extreme. Love of country should never supercede affection for the people whom God clearly commands us to love: our families, our Christian brothers, and our neighbors. Hatred of other people based merely on their nationality is un-Christian. We are supposed to be globalists, meaning we are supposed to love all our Christian brethren and have compassion on all the lost. Ignoring these Christian principles for the sake of nationalism has caused the tragic wars of the modem era.

Eliot's "Reflections on Vers Libre"

2004-09-15T15:00:00.000-07:00

By Roger Emmelhainz
T.S. Eliot's well-known essay "Reflections on vers libre" is a notable manifestation of the author's penchant for presenting excellent, intriguing, even striking passages and insights (and this is occasionally true in his verse as well as his criticism), without managing to coalesce the insights into an effective whole. In this particular case, he marshals arguments containing a number of suggestive insights into the nature of verse and its development, and then attempts to draw a conclusion unmerited-in fact opposed-by the material he bring to bear on the subject.
Eliot argues that vers libre ("free verse") is not even to be given the credit of being criticized as a potentially viable aesthetic theory. He believes that vers libre is not and never can be a legitimate school: "vers libre does not exist, and it is time that this preposterous fiction followed the elan vital and the eighty thousand Russians into oblivion/' Beginning his argument proper with the wanton assertion that vers libre "is a battle-cry of freedom, and there is no freedom in art"-his later observations on "the most interesting verse which has yet been written in our language" demonstrate that he himself will not accept this statement absolutely (see below)-, Eliot then suggests that "If vers libre is a genuine verse-form it will have a positive definition," yet one can "define it only in negatives"; but let us leave aside the issue of the largely semantic distinction between positive and negative definitions. Eliot's real argument centers on his definition of vers libre as "(1) absence of pattern, (2) absence of rhyme, (3) absence of metre."
The argument, on its own terms, is valid and justifiable. Absence of metre is a nonsensical concept; one might employ scansion on any collection of sylla-bles-and by implication, prosaic speech is in fact metric in nature. Absence of rhyme had been employed and embraced by innumerable English versifiers long before the emergence of "vers libre" as a movement.
And true absence of pattern, Eliot maintains, degenerates inevitably into chaos-or at least into prosody-, while the best of vers libre is marked not by "absence of pattern" but by its tantalizingly obscure presence. From this argument, Eliot concludes that "the division between Conservative Verse and vers libre does not exist, for there is only good verse, bad verse, and chaos."
This conclusion is where the essayist introduces his characteristic questionable extrapolation from a solid argument-in this case, revealing that his definition of vers libre is in large part a "straw man." That vers libre defines itself in much the same manner as does Eliot is true. That vers libre cannot exist as defined is also true. We may now safely conclude that the type of verse sketched in Eliot's definition does not exist; we might conclude as well that the name "vers libre" is a misnomer; but it is not valid for Eliot to conclude that there exists no form of verse signified by that perhaps mistaken phrase. I would argue that there in fact exists something both unique and valuable known by the name of vers libre-and it is Eliot himself who offers all the necessary arguments to defend both parts of this proposition.
Eliot argues, as mentioned above, that vers libre is not truly "free" because its only worthwhile representatives function on the boundaries of blank verse-"the constant suggestion and the skilful evasion of iambic pentameter." He then transitions into a discussion of the way in which John Webster and other early 1 "th-century dramatists (such as Shakespeare) produced the same effect by approaching the boundary of metre from the other direction: the simultaneous "evasion and recognition of regularity." These dramatists functioned within a metric framework that they often violated for various effects. This digression offers no direct support for Eliot's argument, but indirectly it provides us with support for our redefinition of the import of vers libre: we have now an illustration of that phenomenon in "conservative" verse, the inverse of which is likewise the mark of mastery in "free" verse. As Eliot concludes, "freedom is only truly freedom when it appears against the background of an artificial limitation"-conceding the possible existence of freedom in close enough proximity to regulation as to retain the quality of "verse," although we may want to qualify his absolute statement, such that "freedom may only be recognized to be freedom" in this situation. Just as regular verse does not cease to be largely regulated as it crosses the boundary condition, so also free (or unregulated) verse does not cease to be essentially free by flirting with a mask of metricism. In fact, the most interesting verse which has yet been written in our language has been done either by taking a very simple form, like the iambic pentameter, and constantly withdrawing from it, or taking no form at all, and constantly approximating to a very simple one. It is this contrast between fixity and flux, this unperceived evasion of monotony, which is the very life of verse.
These comments point the way to an intriguing theory of aesthetics: that the greatness of art is produced out of the plexus between form and chaos. The artist is the one who can create by contradiction-art is play, as it were, within the Dionysian! But this is not directly relevant to the point; it serves rather to illustrate the focus, as it were, of verse, allowing us better to understand the relation in which vers libre stands to conservative verse, vers libre is the far side of the boundary condition; it approaches this plexus in exactly the same manner as the best of the 17th-century iambic pentametrists-only approaching from the opposite direction.
This, then, is the first error of Eliot: vers libre in fact exists. It is not, perhaps, what it thinks itself to be-it does not function without recourse to pattern or metre-but it is quite definitely a verse-form, not merely a variant on blank verse, to which Eliot hoped to reduce it. It is moreover unique, as posited above; it is not just "another" verse-form, a variant within the
same structural scheme (as iambic pentameter is to, e.g., dactylic tetrameter) but one which holds a position in opposition to all other verse-forms. Its play in the boundary condition moves in the opposite direction to that of traditional verse, and as such "the division between Conservative Verse and vers libre" does in fact exist.
It will not suffice, however, merely to disagree with Eliot in the particulars of his conclusion; the heart of his animosity will only be dispersed upon the establishment, not only of the existence, but also of the importance and even value of vers libre to the revitalization of poetry. And it is here that, once again (and characteristically), Eliot himself provides the evidence that shall, when reapplied more effectively, produce for us a worthwhile conclusion.
The relevant comments in Eliot's piece concern the advent of rhymeless verse and its significant contribution to the art of poetry-the other major digression of the essay, offering fascinating insights which provide no direct support to Eliot's actual argument. "Excessive devotion to rhyme," Eliot argues, "has thickened the modern ear." Abandonment of rhyme has several significant effects. It makes the actual diction and grammatical constructions more significant, without a comforting "form" within which to obscure negligence. It allows "much ethereal music" to'reveal itself from within the word-"music which has hitherto chirped unnoticed in the expanse of prose." But most importantly, it frees rhyme from "its exacting task of supporting lame verse," allowing it to be applied with greater facility and greater effectiveness. In essence, the advent of blank verse has added a new technique to the arsenal of the poet.
The key to the importance of vers libre is the realization that every point that Eliot makes in praise of unrhymed verse (and Eliot himself was perhaps the master of this effective use of rhyme within the context of its absence) applies with equal validity to the nature of the contributions of unpatterned or "free" verse. Without the comforting regularity of a patterned metrical structure, rhythm-and particularly fluctuations therein - is free to become a more effective tool, while simultaneously one more distraction from the while simultaneously one more distraction from the language of the poet is removed. Verse that is both patternless and rhymeless-which we must recall to be verse that, if well-accomplished, plays at the borders of both rhyme and pattern-is verse requiring a greater mastery of language than any other verse-form, vers libre must be an even more delicate endeavour than blank verse, perhaps the most ambitious verse-form yet conceived; it must be expected often to fail-but the very act of avoiding this failure may well promote the work to greatness, being birthed so close within the perilous Dionysian realm.

Where is Able, Your Brother?

2004-09-15T14:00:00.000-07:00

By Brooks Lampe
You and I, one blood.

God and I were chatting when (you had forgotten to
put on the emergency brake) God broke off our
conversation and ran to your red car, rolling toward the
road. He put his hands on the hood and pushed-just in
time.

I always watched out for you. but that time
if God hadn't been there, there could've been blood.
We wedged a stone under the tire, shook hands
and waited to tell you that you had forgotten
again. When you got back you blushed red
to find out that your car had been saved by God.

But then you drove off, said goodbye to God and went
to the farm-always working overtime. He and I
watched the animals and the big red sunset. We
huddled together to warm our blood against the vast
evening sky. I had forgotten that I existed that night-
God and I holding hands.

Where were you, O brother? Washing your hands?
Helping Aunt Martha cook supper for God?
All your fussing and cooking...You had forgotten
that in the car that one time
He said He likes meat. Meat has blood.
Blood is red.

Mother's womb was red, and our hearts beat red: thus
we enter and pass through life. Our hands squeeze and
flex with the pulses of flowing blood. It's only right we
give something back to God.

He gives us everything: life, time,
even the memories we have forgotten.

I must admit, I too had forgotten
how red
your face was that last time,
your angry eyes and hands
were raised toward God,
but He did not hear-it was not blood.

And then my red was on your hands.
I had forgotten that (O God!)
this was the first time you had shed blood

A Review of the Film "Garden State"

2004-09-15T13:00:00.000-07:00

By Steven Rybicki
Much has been made of Zach Braff s egotism. He's written and directed a movie where he's the sympathetic star who gets the girl (in this case that girl happens to be Natalie Portman). Sure, my experience tells me that this is not the way "it" works. But this doesn't necessarily demand that the film is fatally flawed. Instead, the driving force in the film is Braffs focus on the feeling of being lost, confused, and stuck. And the method he chooses to cast his film is a fairy tale of sorts. In fact, this method may be the best way Braff is capable of expressing his thesis, so there's really no shame in thinking, "while I'm at it, why not write for and attempt to cast Natalie Portman?"
If criticism of Garden State fixates upon an unfit male finding a deep, intimate, meaningful relationship with a woman who is too beautiful for him, then it would be best to expand those harsh words to a total broadside assault on the film. Let's not labor under any false delusions: this film's focus and execution is dripping of American bourgeoisie conceit. It points the cinematic gaze towards pampered, pathetic white boys. They are "condemned" to a life of pills and psychologists, and the time to be mired, in various degrees, in epistemological and metaphysical crises. Not to mention: what are they going to do for a career... especially when they aspire to proper employment in a post-industnal society? What about happiness? And what about girls1 The questions continue and, of course, overlap.
But I can't brash off :his film because my mind identifies and my body literally aches with congruent concerns of Andrew Large in an. Garden State's protagonist. Therefore, I will ihaif-;okingly) posit: this will be a thoroughly historicistic reflection upon, and recommendation of. Zach Braffs Garden State. Now might be the only time and place where it resounds as a significant statement from its creator to me. I recognize the film has problems. The direction and editing
are, at points, sloppy. This dovetails with the occasionally disjointed and mediocre plotting of the script. But two aspects of Braff s writing elevate the film: sections of his dialogue between Andrew Largeman and Natalie Portman's character, Sam, and the beautiful way the a few key sequences and visual flourishes during his series of vignettes reflect and refine the mental state and psychological longings of the protagonist.
An endearing sequence, staged in a swimming pool, contains one of Garden State's best proposals. The scene is set with a line of twentysomethings jumping into the glowing, chlorinated green of a swimming pool leaving Andrew standing alone, isolated on the far left of the frame. Subsequently, from overhead Andrew is seen with Sam in the far left of the frame and in the extreme of one end of the pool. The focus of the sequence becomes a conversation on "home" and its relation to people (parents) and things (houses). He mournfully concludes: "Maybe that's all family really is. A group of people who miss the same imaginary place."
But where Braff denies a comfortable and concrete conception of "home," he quickly asserts human interaction must be the truly valuable axiom of action. So emphatic is his conviction of this, it's easy to see that the entire film is his offering and example of the importance of just being in the company of others. The theme of the thrill of human contact underlies the film and intersects with another facet of Garden State: detachment. Braffs most visually complex images, including a boozy, X filled homecoming, the aforementioned swimming pool, a hamster funeral, and a wonderfully expressive time elapse shot of an expressive Portman in front of a flickering fire, are deliberately juxtaposed to highlight the joy of contact between the characters, and yet their fundamental detachment from one another.
A first verbal interchange of note from Portman's Sam is her description of the indie band, The Shins. "It will change your life" she reports in a beautifully delivered line that has an ironic and blase tone that captures both her adoration of that darling band and a conviction that as good as records get, people provide a superior, more stimulating thrill. Yet, what is vital to keep in mind is the action Sam takes: The Shins are great because Sam wants to share their music with Andrew.
The climax of the film retraces the themes of home, interaction, affection, and feeling with a tender sequence that situates Andrew in Sam's arms. Conveniently, he seems to be literally surrounded by almost every external artifact that has contributed to his psychic oppression. Andrew breaks down: "Safe... when I'm with you I feel safe... like I'm home." Due to his awareness of the irony of the proposition, Braff is obliged to contextualize the proposition a "safe" "home," with pain: "this hurts" Andrew whimpers.
Sam responds: "I know it hurts... and it's pretty much all we got." The scene fades to a pan of Sam and Andrew asleep with each other while the withered tones of the Florida band Iron & Wine cover "Such Great Heights" (and yes we get the joke/nod to Ben Gibbard). But it's alright: the correspondence of those images and that music works. And the hipster sentimentality of Braff s script has been preserved and an ending is in sight for this tragically hip fairy tale.
Again, it's fair to see the film, including that scene, as being implausible to the point of laughable, maudlin excess. But right now the film makes sense to me. I don't believe Braff is condescending with the narrative absurdity in his yam. But I'm definitely not convinced that his vision will stand any given period of time. Then again, I certainly don't want to be this confused about the future for that long of a time, either. Regardless, Garden State, is a consoling experience, for now.

Film as Historical Perspective: Vietnam through Two Perspectives

2004-09-15T12:00:00.000-07:00

By Jonathan Krull
For those of us who were born in the 1980's, the Vietnam War is a conflict to which we cannot truly relate. We live in a historical hang time: the war is far enough into history that many now living did not experience it, and yet. it is still in recent enough memory that a full historic examination of the conflict is not yet possible. To fill this void, film has become the media whereby 20 and 30-somethings attempt to understand the experiences of previous generations. This film-driven historical dialectic is relatively simple for the struggles that faced our grandparents. Saving Private Ryan and Schindler's List provide, if not historical accuracy, at least a general feel for the period. The historical book on WWII has been closed, at least in the modern western mindset, and most specifically in American pop-culture's historical viewpoint. Sentiment is relatively one-sided as to the reasons and justifications of World War II.
Such clear demarcation is not available for a conflict as complicated and still, as of yet. relatively unresolved in the American consciousness, as Vietnam. Out of this cultural uncertainty arise two films, both set in the Vietnam War, that have very different, and yet at times, complimentary perspectives. These are the Stanley Kubrick classic, Full Metal Jacket (FMJ), and the relatively recent We Were Soldiers.
Kubrick's film is clearly the more artistic of the two. Aesthetically, the film is well done, and Kubrick uses the characters in the film to great effect. The script and casting of FMJ have made it a classic. FMJ is based not on a particular event or battle. Rather, it is the story of a platoon of men who experience the dehumanizing influence of life in the Marine Corps in Vietnam. The war tears them apart, puts them back together, and ultimately changes them on the most basic of levels. Some cope, others do not. Kubrick deftlv weaves a storv rife with morallv ambisuitv. The
Marines at the center of the film are not all evil, nor are they all psychopathic. However, they all lose part of their humanity as the horror of a war with no clear purpose slowly takes its toll. While FMJ?, view of the war is far from rosy, it is clearly not the nihilistic Vietnam of Apocalypse Now. Full Metal Jacket effectively makes its point about how war brutally changes men, without resorting to portraying drug use as the norm, or relying on the "smell of napalm in the morning." FMJ uses fiction to capture the feel of the time. Soldiers takes on the decidedly more docu-drama feel of modern war movies such as Black Hawk Down. The film, directed by Randall Wallace, who wrote Braveheart, emphasizes the humanity of the soldiers who fought, on both sides, in Vietnam. Extensive family scenes build up an emotional connection with the men in the viewer's mind. Several commentators have criticized the movie for this sentimentalist approach to storytelling. However, this technique is not an unnecessary emotional manipulation of the viewer any more than is Private Pyle's suicide in FMJ. The very real humanity of Soldier's characters emphasizes the tragedy of war, and yet through it Wallace preserves a purpose for the bloodshed. Perhaps because the film is chronologically far removed from the conflict, it is one of the few movies that actively attempt to portray American involvement in Vietnam as, at the least, a potentially noble-minded enterprise. Soldiers attempts to avoid the political questions of the war, and focuses on the men who fought honorably, a refreshing counterpoint to decades of denigration of principled men who went to war. In the end. it seeks to validate the contribution of those who fought, without passing judgment on the ends for which the politicians sent them to fight. Below the surface, however, one can detect an undercurrent that emphasizes the ultimate futility of American involvement. The events of Soldiers, the first battle between NVA and U.S. troops, hint at the long stalemate that the war would become.
Soldiers draws from the experiences of a number of men to gain insight about the nature of the men who fought the war. FMJ, in contrast, uses the experiences of a few to draw conclusions about the nature of war. It is through this contrast that the two can be reconciled into a coherent character study of the Vietnam War. Ultimately, a more accurate perspective on the Vietnam War, and by application, all war, can be gained by synthesizing the messages of the two films. The dehumanizing effects of war, even on good men, will leave them permanently changed. Those who return home physically unscathed are still mentally scarred by "seeing the elephant.'1 The effects of the terrible nature of war are amplified on those who fought in a war that our nation seeks neither to understand nor tuily remember. To come to grips with the Vietnam conflict, we must look at it as a time when men-many of whom on both sides were honorable soldiers fighting for what they considered moral reasons-were subjected to the dehumanizing horrors of war. To consider one perspective or the other as a complete picture would be a mistake.
War cannot dehumanize unless it has real human beings to act upon, and this is ultimately the great tragedy of any war. The lives that are destroyed are not those of theoretical, impersonal soldiers on
paper, nor are the effects of war restricted only to legitimate combatants. Film is an effective media for promoting this awareness. No longer are war movies the sterile realm of clearly defined "good guy vs. bad guy" stereotypes as seen in John Wayne's Iwo Jima or Rambo's Afghanistan. True, caricatures will always exist, whether it's the war on Communism, or the War on Terror. We should reject the tendency to treat war films as a form of entertainment. If we do this, they become reduced to the level of Rome's gladiatorial games. Modern wars of the 20th Century have lead to modern war films. They are a cultural and emotional dialogue with the past. It is a good thing that our war films are so horrible; else we should grow too fond of them. While history passes judgment on the justification for past wars, I believe that film holds the potential to make the men who fought them human. While we will not completely understand war through film, perhaps we can gain a closer understanding of the lives touched by war, a closer understanding of our own humanity.
Will the wars of our generation be commemorated in a similar way? If this trend continues, then in much the same way our children and grandchildren will look to film to understand. If so, will they look to probing, questioning war films like Black Hawk Down, or to films merely set in war, like Three Kings, to try to understand why we fought, and who we were?