I don’t think they misunderstood anything

From The Invention of Russia (2015) by Arkady Ostrovsky:

The new class of businessmen that emerged from the rubble of the Soviet economy thought of themselves as the champions of capitalism as they understood it. In some ways they were the victims of Soviet propaganda that portrayed capitalism as a cutthroat, cynical system where craftiness and ruthlessness were more important than integrity, where everyone screws each other and money is the only arbiter of success.

Russian capitalism was far removed from the concept of honest competition and fair play or Weber’s Protestant ethics. It was not built on a centuries-long tradition of private property, feudal honor and dignity. In fact, it hardly had any foundations at all, other than the Marxist-Leninist conception of private property as theft. Since Russia’s new businessmen favored property, they did not mind theft. The words conscience, morality and integrity were tainted by ideology and belonged to a different language — one that was used by their fathers’ generation. “For us these were swear-words which the Soviet system professed in its slogans while killing and depriving people,” Vladimir Yakovlev said.

The tenets of socialism were removed only to reveal a vacuum of morals — in itself the result of the Soviet experiment in breeding a new being. The transition from Soviet to post-Soviet society was accompanied by a change in perception of what makes one succeed in life. In 1988, 45 percent of the country felt it was “diligence and hard work.” In 1992 only 31 percent felt these would get you anywhere. The factors that gained importance were “good connections,” “dexterity” and “being a good wheeler-dealer.” The first Russian businessmen had all those qualities and boasted about them.

The happy nine-fingered shepherds of pastoral

From Deliverance (1970) by James Dickey:

There is always something wrong about people in the country, I thought. In the comparatively few times I had ever been in the rural South I had been struck by the number of missing fingers. Offhand, I had counted around twenty, at least. There had also been several people with some form of crippling or twisting illness, some blind or one-eyed. No adequate medical treatment, maybe. But there was something else. You’d think that farming was a healthy life, with fresh air and fresh food and plenty of exercise, but I never saw a farmer who didn’t have something wrong with him, and most of the time obviously wrong; I never saw one who was physically powerful, either. Certainly there were none like Lewis. The work with the hands must be fantastically dangerous, in all that fresh air and sunshine, I thought: the catching of an arm in a tractor part somewhere off in the middle of a field where nothing happened but the sun blazed back more fiercely down the open mouth of one’s screams. And so many snakebites deep in the woods as one stepped over a rotting log, so many domestic animals suddenly turning and crushing one against the splintering side of a barn stall. I wanted none of it, and I didn’t want to be around when it happened either. But I was there, and there was no way for me to escape, except by water, from the country of nine-fingered people.

For God’s sake, get out!

More than a fixer-upper.

More than a fixer-upper.

Over at Alex on Film I’ve been revisiting the Amityville Horror franchise, a series of terrible movies whose success is made all the more depressing by the fact that they were based on a tragic true story — by which I mean the DeFeo family murders, not the subsequent “haunting.”

The Amityville Horror (1979) is crap, but has some camp value today thanks mainly to James Brolin’s performance. Amityville II: The Possession (1982) is better made but is still crap, though it’s enlivened by a bizarre incest subplot. Amityville 3-D (1983) is in 3-D. The Amityville Horror (2005) is a fairly typical twenty-first century franchise reset. Casting Ryan Reynolds as George might have given things a boost, but it’s a gamble that doesn’t work. He just seems out of place.

Why buy cold medicine?

I’ve had a cold for the past week. My nose has been so stuffed-up I can’t breathe through it at night, plus I’ve got a headache, sore throat, and I’m always sneezing

Because I rarely come into contact with other human beings, getting sick is something that doesn’t often happen to me. This cold is probably the first time I’ve been sick in over ten years. And it’s been so unpleasant I went to the store and bought some cold medicine.

I didn’t want to. Most colds just run their course and then go away after a week or two. But I wanted to feel like I was doing something because I was really miserable.

But there is no cure for the cold. As the old saw has it, we can put a man on the moon (we accomplished that one quite some time ago, actually), but we still can’t find a cure for the common cold. There are two reasons for this. In the first place, the common cold isn’t a single disease but a general name for over a hundred different viruses. In the second place, since it isn’t a very serious disease (that is, you don’t die from it) there is no financial incentive for drug companies to find a silver bullet.

Which isn’t to say that drug companies don’t make money out of selling cold remedies. They certainly do. The stuff I ended up buying sounded just right: Extra Strength Tylenol Sinus, for “sinus pain and pressure, sinus headache, and sinus congestion.” It cost $8 for 20 pills (12 daytime tablets and 8 nighttime tablets). I don’t know why I even bothered. I mean, I knew it wasn’t going to work because I know that nothing works. And it didn’t work. Three days later I hadn’t gotten any relief at all from any of the cold symptoms I had. None. In fact my cold got worse. I might as well have been eating Smarties.

I might also add that I couldn’t detect any difference between the daytime “non-drowsy” pills and the nighttime “lets you rest” variety. I was actually kind of looking forward to being knocked out by the latter. No such luck.

I don’t mean to pick on Tylenol. I mean, my mother swears by it. And I’m sure none of the other brand names would have done a bit better. But it makes you wonder. Seeing as we all know that there is no cure for the cold, how do such products remain on the market? I mean, they don’t even provide relief from cold symptoms. I still can’t breathe.

Maybe cold medications are like vitamins, most of which do absolutely no good at all unless you have an impossibly bad or deficient diet and you’re in need of some particular supplement.

Seeing as I still have this cold, I suppose I’ll just keep taking all these pills until they’re gone. But I know there’s no point.

The Russian Revolution on film

Will you join in their parade?

Will you join in their parade?

2017 marks the  hundredth anniversary of the Russian Revolution. For many, this remains a divisive historical event. Following some of the commentary about it online one can, surprisingly, still find those who defend it. Most of these take the position that (1) it overthrew a despotic political system, (2) it gave birth to a communist state that was able to beat Hitler, and (3) it provided an alternative to global capitalism. True enough, but the tsarist system was dying anyway and wasn’t nearly as despotic as what came after, Hitler’s Russian campaign was probably doomed from the start, if we’re playing historical counterfactuals, and as for being an alternative to capitalism, look at Russia today. Or China.

In any event, over at Alex on Film I’ve been watching some movies on the subject. First up is La révolution en Russie (1906), a short Pathé Frères docudrama that deals with the same events as Eisentstein’s Battleship Potemkin (1925). It makes for an interesting comparison, though more for what it says about the evolution in film during this period than for its status as a historical document. Next up is October: Ten Days That Shook the World (1928), Eisenstein’s film loosely based on John Reed’s account of the October Revolution and the events leading up to it. And finally we have Reds (1981), Warren Beatty’s biopic of Reed, covering a lot of the same ground. All of these films, even the 1906 short, are sympathetic, if not propagandistic, about the Revolution. Would we make the same movies today, after the collapse of the Soviet Union? How much, politically and ideologically, has our world changed?

 

Marginalia

My review of Jeff Bursey’s collection of essays and reviews, Centring the Margins, is up now at the Canadian Notes & Queries website. My own tastes in literature are rather different than Bursey’s but I think voices like his are essential. We need more such critics if any culture of value is going to survive this profoundly anti-critical age. For various reasons, I’m afraid we’re not going to get them.

Re-reading Shakespeare: Julius Caesar

(1) I’m not a big stickler for reading Shakespeare the right way, but I acknowledge (as I think you have to) that there is a right way. Or at least that there are wrong ways. It was a performance of Julius Caesar that first brought this home to me, during the opening harangue by Marullus when he launches into the mob celebrating Caesar’s homecoming: “O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome.”

As I read it, the only way to deliver these lines is to emphasize “hard hearts” close to equally, giving both words the same weight so as to draw out the near rhyme and emphasize the admonitory tone. I can see Marullus shaking his head at the crowd. “O you hard hearts.”

I may be wrong in this, but I know they’re not meant to be rushed together, as they were in the production that I saw, where they were almost elided as in “hard-hats.” Perhaps that was the intention (the rude mechanicals of Rome are proto hard-hats), but I doubt it. And it sounded awful!

(2) The tag “et cetera” (“and other things”) is designed to make your eye and mind wander, sort of like “yadda, yadda, yadda.” That’s my excuse for never really being aware of the fact, until this most recent re-reading, that when Brutus is considering the letters that have been thrown in his window “et cetera” isn’t his own gloss on what Cassius has written but actually part of the letter itself. I know this should have always been clear to me from the punctuation and the rest of the line — “‘Shall Rome, et cetera.’ Thus must I piece it out . . .” — but it never really twigged. I always read it as Brutus just skimming over the rest of the letter’s contents.

I think part of the reason why I read it like this is that it’s hard to figure out why Cassius would have written the letter in such a way. Just saying “Shall Rome, et cetera . . .” doesn’t make a very persuasive case. I guess the point is that Cassius wants Brutus to do all the work of persuasion, making him imagine the worst that could happen. This isn’t a bad approach, but just writing “Shall Rome, et cetera” seems a remarkable way of going about it.

(3) So true:

There is a tide in the affairs of men
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows and in miseries.

The last two lines aren’t always included by people quoting this, but they strike me as the most meaningful, the ones that really seal the deal. That said, how ironic is it that Brutus’s advice in this instance is wrong? He should have skipped this particular tide and avoided Philippi. Or maybe his reasoning was correct and the larger point is that even if you do catch the right tide, it’s not always enough. Such an irony underlines something I’ve often observed during meetings when canvassing for opinions on the best way to move forward. Invariably the argument that wins the day is the one that is best expressed, not the one that is the most reasonable or most likely to succeed. Good rhetoric is meant to be seductive — that’s its whole purpose, really — which is something to keep in mind whenever you can feel it working.

Pointing the finger of blame

Donald Trump has become the 45th president of the United States.

I am in a state of shock as I write those words. Even given my poor record as a predictor of elections, I would have thought this was impossible.

In the months leading up to the vote Trump had established himself as the worst candidate for president put forward by a major party in American political history, running by far the worst campaign. The election itself should have been declared a no contest.

Unfortunately, he was running against Hillary Clinton, herself a historically unpopular candidate. Despite her many failings, however, I still thought Clinton would win, with Trump registering only as the last twitch in the death spasms of a certain strand of American conservatism (a point I’ve addressed elsewhere). Clinton had overwhelming systemic advantages in money, the electoral college (yes, this was thought to be to her advantage), and the favour of the media, while he was . . . well, he was Trump.

Her strengths, however, were part of Clinton’s undoing. Her election came to be seen as a near-coronation, the campaign a one-horse race. This suggests something very damaged in American democracy, and voters rebelled against her inevitability, their sense that they had been denied a choice.

Defenders of Clinton made much during the campaign, and no doubt will continue to do so, of how her enemies were ignorant bigots. They were the “deplorables” who hated women and non-white immigrants (specifically Mexicans and Muslims). Trumpism was only the politics of the white working class, a.k.a. losers. No doubt there was some truth to this, but I think the problem with Hillary Clinton was something simpler.

For starters, every election is about change. This has led to the cult of the “outsider” and the non-politician politician. It’s hard to overstate how essential this branding is. Hence Bill Clinton calling his wife “the best darn change-maker I’ve ever met in my whole life” at the Democratic convention. He had to say that because it was so obvious that Hillary Clinton was a status quo figure. Her own professed desire was for “incremental” change, which may be realistic but is not inspiring rhetoric.

But who could expect anything more from her? She had been in the highest offices of American politics for decades, as much a figure of the establishment as any single person could be. No one could mistake her as representing change, and indeed in her campaign’s final days she appealed repeatedly to the need to continue the legacy of Barack Obama.

The first problem, then, with Hillary Clinton was not that she was a woman but that people were sick of her. They were sick of her twenty years ago, when “Clinton fatigue” was a thing encompassing both her and her husband, and she hadn’t been out of the public eye since!

The second problem with Clinton as a candidate was that she was a political operator. I hesitate to say “politician” because politics, at least of the retail variety, was not really her calling. She would admit on the trail that she wasn’t a natural like her husband at campaigning. That was to put it mildly. Though courtiers built her up as someone likeable in intimate settings, she had difficulty projecting charm or charisma. One felt a weariness, discomfort, and not least paranoia on her part whenever she had to appear in the public eye. It was enough to make even the rank vulgarity of Trump seem human in comparison. The overriding question I had watching Clinton over the course of the past year is why she was even doing this. By all accounts she experienced her husband’s presidency as something of a nightmare. Was her run for the presidency an attempt at some belated validation? Or, worse, revenge?

In any event, her awkwardness as a candidate does a lot to explain her curious political career. She went from being the wife of the president, which in her case was a position of some power, to being air-lifted into a super-safe seat in the senate (Patrick Moynihan retired to make way for her in New York, a state she had little personal connection to). She would go on to an appointment as secretary of state under Obama and then win a Democratic primary against an eccentric figure who wasn’t even a member of the party (and who the party itself plotted against). She then ran for president against an even more impossible figure, with all of the above-mentioned institutional advantages providing a strong wind at her back.

Some critics referred to this career trajectory as “falling upwards,” but it was really just a combination of good luck and skilful operation of the system. She has always carried with her an air of inevitability and entitlement. None of this made her popular. If people want change, and look to outsiders rather than politicians to effect it, what can one make of the ultimate career politician preparing to take the highest office in the land virtually unopposed? And with Clinton there was always a certain odour attached to the label of politician even beyond the usual dislike. “How did Hillary Clinton end up filthy rich?” ran the main television ad for the Trump campaign (titled “Corruption”). It was a question that stuck, to be answered (in the ad) by charges of the “politics of personal enrichment” and “pay for play.” Her defence was simply that there was no “smoking gun” or hard proof of a quid quo pro or criminality. This was weak. No matter how legitimate the sources of “Clinton cash” there is still, I think, a lot of native feeling that people in public office should not be getting rich off of it. As for why people were paying the Clintons up to half a million dollars to listen to them make a speech . . . it just smelled bad.

In sum, the problem with Hillary was not that she was a woman but that she was hard to like, harder to trust, and someone people were tired of. The charge that people who opposed her did so only because they were bigots or ignorant was, however, the first (and often last) line of defence of most liberals – and I say this as a liberal myself (or someone a little to the left of that). It was a defence Clinton herself would adopt in her concession speech, taking on the persona of a feminist martyr cruelly crushed against the patriarchy’s glass ceiling while heroically lighting the way for those who would follow in her giant footsteps. The liberal media — that is, the same media that had enabled her at the expense of all common sense and cast her campaign in the language of a battle against misogyny and for human rights — echoed these sentiments. If Democrats make this their preferred narrative for what happened then they will have learned nothing.

The truth is, Bill Clinton would not have fared any better. Clinton, Inc. had, in the years since his leaving office, become the face of liberal oligarchy. This is an over-class – financial, political, business (most prominently tech), and media – that believes very much in individual freedom and human rights, but also in rule by a managerial elite whose attitude toward democracy is paternalistic at best. It’s no coincidence that many of its leading lights are prominent spokespersons for what’s been called “the new philanthropy.” This is a world not of corporations but of benevolent private foundations.

Such philanthropy meant nothing to the American middle class, who neither wanted nor were in line for a hand-out. What use was the Clinton Global Initiative to Americans? Globalization, they had been told, had lifted billions out of poverty all over the world. But so what? What good had it done for homegrown “losers” aside from giving them cheap shit to buy at Wal-Mart? And was that supposed to be enough?

Well, there are scarier things than rule by a liberal oligarchy, as we may find out. I think Hillary Clinton was a much safer choice than Donald Trump. But I think we would be wrong to write off critics of the elite as rednecks or white nativists only expressing the time-honoured anti-intellectualism of American politics. Clinton was unfairly accused during the campaign of being ambitious, which I think was a clear example of a sexist double standard. Anyone running for president has to be ambitious. Ambition can be a good thing. But no elite or oligarchy can be expected to look after anyone’s interest as well as their own. I have never been one to accuse any government of taking a “nanny state” attitude, and I’m no enemy to government regulation, but I look at the liberal oligarchy and I fear its benevolence.

If you’re looking to lay blame this morning, lay it on both parties. The Republican establishment didn’t want any part of Trump, but all the same he is on them. They created the matrix that spawned him and then couldn’t control the forces they thought to cynically exploit. Even more at fault, however, is the Democratic party, which was so out of touch, so enamoured of its own good intentions, it thought it could ride a deeply flawed candidate who many Americans despised into the most powerful office in the land by wrapping her in a feminist mantle. Trump v. Clinton should never have happened. Never. That it did is an indictment of the system.

There has been much hand-wringing recently over the rise of populism in Western democracies. Populism, in these arguments, is equated with xenophobia, racism, authoritarianism, and nationalism. I don’t think it has to be that way. I think there’s a way for a healthy politics to be more populist. Moving forward, both parties are going to have to find it.

Paranormal Activities

It's hard to go wrong with such a classic look.

It’s hard to go wrong with such a classic look.

Over at Alex on Film I’ve been watching the first three Paranormal Activity movies — unimaginatively titled Paranormal Activity (2007), Paranormal Activity 2 (2010), and Paranormal Activity 3 (2011). They went on to make more, but I just wanted to look at the original trilogy because I think they work well as a self-contained series. And overall, I have to say they’re pretty good movies.

Bad-ass lawmen

On the whole, I think I've had a fortunate life, yes. Happy? Not so much.

On the whole, I think I’ve had a fortunate life, yes. Happy? Not so much.

Over at Alex on Film I’ve been watching a bunch of movies about tough cops who break the rules but get results. It’s rough justice, Hollywood style. The popularity of such films taps into myths of the frontier and even deeper yearnings for some kind of divine sanction from superhuman embodiments of the law. That’s at least one way of explaining the phenomenon. I don’t think the box office and longevity of the various franchises reviewed can be attributed to the quality of the movies themselves. For the most part, they’re pretty bad.

Bullitt (1968)
Dirty Harry (1971)
Walking Tall (1973)
Magnum Force (1973)
The Enforcer (1976)
Sudden Impact (1983)
Lethal Weapon (1987)
RoboCop (1987)
The Dead Pool (1988)
Lethal Weapon 2 (1989)
RoboCop 2 (1990)
Lethal Weapon 3 (1992)
RoboCop 3 (1993)
Timecop (1994)
Judge Dredd (1995)
Lethal Weapon 4 (1998)
Dredd (2012)
RoboCop (2014)

judgedredd1