Shakespeare on Memorial Day Eve

Josh Marshall of the essential Talking Points Memo posted this bit of Bardic relevance on May 4, and all credit to him. As we remember those who died in this nation’s wars - and with the local Shakespeare Festival just launching its new season - it bears repeating here.

KING HENRY V
I dare say you love him not so ill, to wish him here alone, howsoever you speak this to feel other men’s minds: methinks I could not die any where so contented as in the king’s company; his cause being just and his quarrel honourable.

WILLIAMS
That’s more than we know.

BATES
Ay, or more than we should seek after; for we know enough, if we know we are the kings subjects: if his cause be wrong, our obedience to the king wipes the crime of it out of us.

WILLIAMS
But if the cause be not good, the king himself hath a heavy reckoning to make, when all those legs and arms and heads, chopped off in battle, shall join together at the latter day and cry all ‘We died at such a place;’ some swearing, some crying for a surgeon, some upon their wives left poor behind them, some upon the debts they owe, some upon their children rawly left. I am afeard there are few die well that die in a battle; for how can they charitably dispose of any thing, when blood is their argument? Now, if these men do not die well, it will be a black matter for the king that led them to it; whom to disobey were against all proportion of subjection.

King Henry V
Act IV, Scene 1

The Bush policy on Iraq, illustrated

Artwork by unknown London artist. M and I took this picture during our belated honeymoon, somewhere on the north side of Kensington High Street in October 2002.

Addendum: Well, I certainly know by now who the artist is.

The mirror of Abu Ghraib

From Philip Kennicott in the May 5 Washington Post:

Among the corrosive lies a nation at war tells itself is that the glory - the lofty goals announced beforehand, the victories, the liberation of the oppressed - belongs to the country as a whole; but the failure - the accidents, the uncounted civilian dead, the crimes and atrocities - is always exceptional. Noble goals flow naturally from a noble people; the occasional act of barbarity is always the work of individuals, unaccountable, confusing and indigestible to the national conscience.

This kind of thinking was widely in evidence among military and political leaders after the emergence of pictures documenting American abuse of Iraqi prisoners in Abu Ghraib prison. These photographs do not capture the soul of America, they argued. They are aberrant….

Reputation, image, perception. The problem, it seems, isn’t so much the abuse of the prisoners, because we will get to the bottom of that and, of course, we’re not really like that. The problem is our reputation. Our soldiers’ reputations. Our national self-image. These photos, we insist, are not us.

I had a lot of trouble putting words to my feelings about the torture and abuses that took place at Abu Ghraib. The still-emerging accounts of humiliation and abuse - psychological, sexual, emotional - paralyze the mind. The images that have spread “to the ends of the Earth,” as Kennicott says in his piece, are at once both repellent and fascinating. You stare at them with all the thrill of a voyeur, and all of the shame. You stare into them, wondering how these soldiers, these people, your people, could inflict such abuse and humiliation upon…those people.

You do not have to be familiar with the work of writer and teacher Sam Keen to perceive here the consequences of the hostile imagination. We have a president who has justified the invasion of Iraq in religious terms: bringing democracy by the sword as “the work of the Almighty.” In that light, any opponent becomes a true Enemy - not merely of America, but of God, and so becomes something less than human. When an enemy is thus stripped of humanity in your eyes, you can do anything to him, or to her, without guilt or remorse.

And, given enough time, you will.

For all that, however, George Bush’s brand of democratic evangelism is only one contributing cause to the Abu Ghraib outrages. Consider the ingrained resistance of this administration to any external restraint on the use of American power. Add to that its willingness to flout rules and conventions governing the treatment of “enemy combatants.” Think of the virulent hostility toward Muslims and Arabs - toward “ragheads” - frequently espoused on the Web and on “the American street.” The myth that Iraq was responsible for the murders of thousands on 9/11, promoted by Bush and his subordinates, fed a national desire for unfettered vengeance. These elements came together in a psychic perfect storm, creating the conditions under which an Abu Ghraib could happen - indeed, must happen.

Hard on the release of the Abu Ghraib photographs came predictable denials. Not denials that something happened, but denials of the scope and meaning of the outrages, denials of their importance. General Richard Myers, the chair of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, said before a national television audience that “only a handful” of troops were involved - and this, as he admitted, before he had even read the Taguba report. Rush Limbaugh, in a performance contemptible even by his standards, likened the abuses to a fraternity rite, and defended the soldiers’ “need to blow some steam off.” Administration apologist Jonah Goldberg adopted a blame the messenger approach, declaring that release of the photos was “sabotage” and that “it’s encouraging millions of Arabs to hate us.” From that stance, the abuses themselves - acts of torture inflicted on helpless detainees - seem a mere detail. We now know that the military has had ample warning beforehand that it should investigate abuse allegations in full.

Equally troubling were the claims of those who sought to downplay the outrages by comparing them to the tortures inflicted by Saddam Hussein’s regime or the My Lai massacre. If the best defense you can manage relies on a comparison to some of the most heinous acts of recent history, the argument is lost before it has even begun.

Jeanne d’Arc at Body and Soul has written a passionate post on Abu Ghraib (link defunct); at one point, she comments on a more subtle form of evasion touched on by Kinnicott’s essay - the emphasis on how the Abu Ghraib revelations have damaged the image and reputations of other soldiers. This emphasis is predictable, understandable, and - in the long run - misplaced. In d’Arc’s words:

The damage done at Abu Ghraib was done to Iraqi prisoners, to their friends and families, and to all Iraqis, who were sent a clear message about how our country treats their country. They are the ones who have endured, and will continue to endure, the pain. The “damage” to our military is secondary at most. After all the times we’ve seen the pictures, we still have a distorted view of who the victims are.

Equivocations. Excuses. Denials. All attempts to deny the evidence of one’s eyes, to evade responsibility, to turn away from the consequences of one’s actions. The meaning of Abu Ghraib is, in the final analysis, a matter of consequence. For nations fully as much as for individuals, it is actions - not words, not stated intentions, not lofty goals, but actions - that show us who we are. The consequences of our actions are the mirrors that reveal our full selves.

Mirrors do not equivocate. They do not make excuses. They do not deny hard truths.

Americans have long demonstrated an incomplete understanding of the full impact of our nation upon other cultures in the world, particularly Arab and Muslim cultures. Part of this is due to simple ignorance of those cultures; part of it is a rationale for promoting national interests over the interests of other states. But much of it stems from a long-practiced cultural conceit - the conceit of American innocence. The innocence of a noble people, to return to Kinnicott’s depiction, innocence that validates our actions, shields us from criticism, and absolves us of blame. It is a conceit that becomes dangerous when indulged in by the powerful. Our professed innocence has informed our invasion of Iraq and our occupation of that country. It has blinded us to the havoc we have wrought, the damage we have done, and the enemies - the new enemies - we have made.

The images of Abu Ghraib are mirrors that have shown us a hard truth of American power and its abuse. However, they represent - like any revelation of self - an opportunity. We have the chance to see ourselves as those within our power see us, and so act with a greater awareness of the harm that we may do. It may be difficult to square that intention with our goals in the world, but as events have demonstrated, to behave otherwise is to invite terrible consequences. The opportunity is ours in Iraq, even at this late date, if only we muster the courage needed to face ourselves.

Therein lies the great challenge for any nation so convinced of its own innocence and rectitude that it has willed itself blind to consequence. As the writer Roger Zelazny once observed, even a mirror will not show you yourself, if you do not wish to see.

Tales of Homeowning: The hellmouth

M and I own a charming little house in the Dogtown area of St. Louis. (”Dogtown?” you ask? There are competing theories on how the area got its name.) The house was constructed a few years after the 1904 World’s Fair. We have lived there for three years, and in that time have vacillated between various stages of relationship to our dwelling: enthusiasm, disquiet, dismay, pride, more disquiet, more dismay, dogged (sorry for the pun) persistence. That is, we’re like most other first-time homeowners.

You can always tell that spring has arrived when flying insects make their reappearance. That being so, we were initially unconcerned to note the occasional fly buzzing around the house. They were odd bugs, smaller than common houseflies, and not the kind of flies I had learned one might expect to see in a home this time of year. The cats - especially Baxter - were fascinated by the flying interlopers and would stalk them in hopes that one might light within striking range. We’d often had windows open, and the cats had done a number on a couple of the screens (who knows why they do that) and we assumed that the insects had gotten in that way.

Friday evening, I started to head downstairs to the basement for some reason or other, and was startled to find more flies just sort of hanging out on the walls of the stairwell landing. Not one or two flies. More like ten or twelve. I stared at them and thought: the basement. A chill ran through me, just like in the horror novels.

“Going downstairs, honey,” I said to M.

I went downstairs and looked around. I noted a couple of flies lazily wandering about. I glanced at the old single basin sink into which the washing machine empties when in use, then turned to stare at the circular drain in the basement floor. I felt another chill.

I cleared some boxes and odd items from around the drain, then removed the rusty grate so that I could peer inside. At first I could see nothing; it was dark inside. Then I saw that the darkness was in motion - a black, bubbling liquid.

“What the hell?” I asked.

Then I realized that the liquid was not bubbling, but moving on the surface, stirring, churning.

“What the hell,” I murmured.

Then I saw that what I was looking at wasn’t liquid - not entirely, anyway. From what I could tell, it was only about ten percent black liquid. The remaining ninety percent was composed of writhing, wriggling maggots.

“Hell,” I gasped.

Read more

It’s a bird! It’s a plane! It’s…

Yes, it’s Super Bush.

More evidence that the Bush reelection effort has entered the realm of puerile fantasy (which is where the administration must have gotten its Iraq policy). This gem comes to us by way of dc at dailyKos, who informs us that this is part of a very real Republican National Committee ad done in Flash. The title of the ad is “Bush saves the day.”

dc is absolutely right. With the Bush administration, who needs satire?

Who is Toby Lightman?

I was driving home from a John Kerry house party last night and caught Toby Lightman’s “Devils and Angels.” Achy-breaky voice, good lyrics, a lot of energy. Like Sheryl Crow with a booster shot of Joni Mitchell. Never even heard of her before and just found out that she was at Mississippi Nights back on May 3. That’s what Waveflux gets for not being hip.

Sturm und drang und MT 3

While I was slogging through the implementation of Movable Type 2.661 here, the bone asked if I’d heard about “BlogAngst ‘04,” otherwise known as the fracas regarding MT 3. Something about the payment schedule for the license or some such.

My unspoken response was something like “The what-what for the what now?” Like most of the planet, I hadn’t heard a thing about it. Indeed, until recently - when I decided to rework this site - MT hadn’t been on my radar at all. It was just more software I wasn’t using. As for the fracas, well, that was just an Internet thing. I generally ignore blogospheric disturbances.

Well, now I’m all caught up. And now we all see the hazards of “loveware” as a business model. Future tech firms, please take note. The passion of an engaged and active user community can come at a price: a population mindset that equates interest with shareholder rights. And sharpen your communication skills. They won’t keep people from being angry with you, but they’ll be helpful in other ways.

Otherwise, not much to say about the whole thing that SixDifferentWays and Brad Choate haven’t said already, and with the kind of calm rationality that can be hard to find on the Web. As for me: I’ve had MT for mere days, not long enough for a huge emotional investment. But hey, give me time.

Showing John the love

So Denny Hastert - a third-string House speaker and faithful Tom DeLay sock puppet, a guy whose most notable political achievement thus far has been to block the extension of the 9/11 commission (only to cave under pressure) - has elected to take a swipe at John McCain’s GOP credentials.

The exchange started when a reporter asked: “Can I combine a [sic] two issues, Iraq and taxes? I heard a speech from John McCain the other day…”

Hastert: “Who?”

Reporter: “John McCain.”

Hastert: “Where’s he from?”

Reporter: “He’s a Republican from Arizona.”

Hastert: “A Republican?”

Hard to believe that he would have the stones to diss McCain on his own, but perhaps this is what passes for humor on Capitol Hill. He’s a kidder, that Denny. The more interesting part of the story follows:

Amid nervous laughter, the reporter continued with his question: “Anyway, his observation was never before when we’ve been at war have we been worrying about cutting taxes and his question was, ‘Where’s the sacrifice?’ ”

Hastert: “If you want to see the sacrifice, John McCain ought to visit our young men and women at Walter Reed and Bethesda. There’s the sacrifice in this country. We’re trying to make sure they have the ability to fight this war, that they have the wherewithal to be able to do it. And, at the same time, we have to react to keep this country strong.”

And so Hastert the kidder becomes, inevitably, Hastert the political hack. It’s always possible that Hastert just wasn’t bright enough to grasp that McCain was asking why the Bush administration hasn’t shown the political courage to ask the American taxpayer to give up pending tax cuts. Then again, perhaps he did understand the question and simply chose to dissemble and bluster rather than provide a straightforward reply.

Either way, for Hastert to attempt to lecture John McCain - a celebrated veteran and former POW - on any aspect of war and sacrifice is downright grotesque.

McCain may be the most intriguing figure in American politics today. There are liberals who love him and would vote for him in a second, even though his views on many of the issues they hold dear would give them pause…if he was any other Republican. He’s the embedded critic within the GOP, the “loyal opposition.” That loyalty evidently gives Hastert and his ilk the idea that they can cuff him around in public with impunity. Maybe they can. But I wouldn’t bet on it.

Classical gas

I’ll admit to feeling a certain amount of disappointment on learning that the Iliad-flavored blockbuster Troy would feature nary a Greek god. Actually, I was irritated. No Olympians? Scandalous! The jealous, squabbling deities provided much delight during my long-ago readings of the epic poem; think of Dallas, only with thunderbolts. But then I considered just how the gods were rendered in such film classics as Clash of the Titans and made-for-TV efforts like The Odyssey, and shuddered. (When Penelope in The Odyssey is surprised to see the goddess of wisdom and asks incredulously, “Athena?”, the goddess - portrayed by Isabella Rossellini, no less - cheerfully replies, “Uh-huh!” Oh, dear.) Perhaps focusing exclusively on the human drama of the Trojan War wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

As you might expect, the writers make a historical hash of the Iliad in the process, the price of condensing a ten-year war into a 163-minute film. But the compulsions and motivations of the principal characters shine through, and are the true driving force of Troy. If you think you hear echoes of our own time of war in the movie’s depictions of political arrogance and wanton power…well, you might be onto something there.

Brad Pitt is a welcome surprise. His Achilles is the ancient world’s most dangerous prima donna: moody, self-absorbed, utterly lethal. Pitt has the occasional lapse but otherwise fully inhabits the role, to great effect. It’s chilling when he appears alone at the gates of Troy, vengeance personified, screaming Hector’s name with a terrible insistence. And let’s get this much over with: I never really got the whole “Brad Pitt is beautiful” thing. I get it now. That is one good-looking guy. Not beautiful the way Orlando Bloom is. Pitt’s older now; he’s got planes in his face. Life is leaving its mark on him. People used to call that “growing into one’s looks.” Goddamn him, but it works.

This film draws natural comparisons to Gladiator, which is fine. The fact is, Gladiator is ever so slightly overrated - carried to respectability by the sheer will of Russell Crowe - and I say that as someone who liked it. Troy has more compelling themes, more gravitas (if you can say that about a popcorn flick), and actual historical characters, with actual historical names. What does Gladiator have besides Crowe and buckets’ worth of bloodletting? Names like Maximus (which, loosely translated, means “mine is bigger than yours”) and Commodus (meaning, possibly, “of the commode”).

Okay, so there really was an emperor named Commodus. The point is still valid, almost.

Look, if you want to read a real review of the movie, there are other venues for that. But I’ll say this much, as someone who went in with low expectations - Troy is worth a moviegoer’s time. Really.

[Moved sentence from beginning of second paragraph to the end of the first - w]

Waveflux, reloaded

Huzzah! After a week and a half of epic struggle, this site returns better than before, powered by the ubiquitous Movable Type publishing platform. The most prominent change you’ll note is the new three-column layout. I’ve moved the links to the right-hand column, freeing up the left-hand column for more crap, er, bonus materials as they become available.

Other, more important changes include the addition of useful permalinks, as promised, and commenting, which, ah, was not promised. I know that I said at the outset that this site was an online journal, not a blog, not a place for visitors to leave comments. But with the move to the MT platform and its commenting tools, it just seemed downright churlish to not allow people to use them. So, well, there you are.

I still say this is a journal, damnit. But you, gentle reader, may think of it anyway you like.

More later on the actual process of moving to MT, which was equal parts tedium and high adventure. Some further editing of the site will take place over time (such as porting older entries into the new templates and tweaking assorted minor templates to match the overall look of the site), but nothing that will bring things here to a halt.

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