Integrity

Two pieces on a great topic, the second made me think of the first.

Great monologue on fame and integrity from Basquiat:

Writer and ex-CIA Barry Eisler from a piece on maintaining integrity as a journalist:

The first compromise will likely be the hardest (and maybe this one was for Hayes), because you've never made one before, or at least not one of this magnitude, and the contrast with your relative purity will be strong. But they'll get easier over time, just as impurities are harder to notice when added to water that's already turbid.  The danger of this increasing ease is part of the reason I blurb so few books.  I won't claim absolute purity when it comes to the abysmally corrupt practice of blurbing; I've found myself (rarely, for what that's worth) in situations where I felt the cost of a no was too high, and I tried to square the circle by saying good things about a book that, while not exactly untrue, weren't exactly from the heart, either.  But I've also said no many times where the no was uncomfortable and a yes would have done me a lot of good.  From the beginning, I've sensed that once you start saying positive things about books you didn't really enjoy (or that you haven't even read), it gets easier and easier, and that the increased commercial success you might enjoy as a result of all those increasingly easy blurbs will be purchased with your own integrity.  The best way out of that trap is not to get into it in the first place.

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Grateful Dead: A Primer

So I finally had an opportunity, after waiting about three years, to drop the following on somebody I know.

And to think he was just gonna dive in without any guidance!

Crazy, right?

Start with the historic contributions 

American Beauty

Workingman's Dead

While they had been pioneering the San Francisco psychedelic jam thing in 67, 68 and 69, when they came with these two albums in 70 and laid down two American country rock masterpieces people were all "What?!"

Trust me, nobody will ever deliver something so radically different from what they were doing--and were getting famous for. It came from their early roots and what they were getting into at the time, as they moved out of the city, were living on a farm, riding horses and shit. Also, they met up with lyricist Robert Hunter, and boom! Delivered two classics.

Then you'll take a step back to where it all began

Two From the Vault

This is live from 1968. In those early days they never could capture their sound in the studio. All you really need to listen to here are Dark Star > Saint Stephen > The Eleven, Turn On Your Love Light, and Morning Dew. Listen to this, then reflect on what they pulled off two years later. Stupid.

Listen to them integrate that country feel into the never ending tours

Europe '72

Live, but sweetened in the studio, supposedly. The post-70 country-ish stuff is here. Songs to dig: Cumberland Blues, Jack Straw, You Win Again (a Hank Williams cover), Ramble On Rose, Sugar Magnolia, Truckin', Looks Like Rain. The ladies love Looks Like Rain. Well, mine does anyway.

Lineup changes - a bit of subtraction sends them into orbit

This was the next step from the country stuff. They had been playing with two drummers, which is where that heavy polyrhythmic sound comes from, but in late 72 one drummer leaves. They get more precise and go to some crazy places.

Best appreciated through bootlegs or live albums. Their concerts at this time included about 1 hour of the country-ish stuff and 2 hours of the the space funk jam freak show.

I'd go for Dick's Picks Vol. 12, and focus on China Cat Sunflower > I Know You Rider, Truckin' > Jam > Wharf Rat > Sugar Magnolia, Eyes of the World, Weather Report Suite > Jam > US Blues. Find a song called Playin' in the Band, that's a monster, too.

Behold the ferocious seven-headed chrome-plated, flame-spewing space dragon avatar of peace and love

A few years later the second drummer reappears, and in 1977 they go on a fucking tear the likes of which no one has seen except John Hughes.
They didn't capture this in the studio either (notice a pattern?)

The May 8, 1977 Barton Hall concert is the pinnacle. But also check out the songs from discs 2 and 3 of Dicks' Picks Vol. 10. Any deeper and you'll need to hit me up for bootlegs.

An unexpected late 80's resurgence

There's lots of good live shit from 78-85, but then Jerry goes into a coma from years of smoking heroin, and living off of Hagen Daas and M&Ms. He recovers, re-learns the guitar, and by 87 they are shredding again. The run of shows at Madison Square Garden in September 87 is stellar (they took a night off in the middle which let Jerry and Bobby visit Dave Letterman), and all through 1989 they lay it down something fierce;  bassist Phil Lesh is just unbelievable.

In 1990 their keyboard player (the third one—the first one died of alcoholism, the second left and then died a few months later in a car crash) dies of a heroin/cocaine overdose. In steps Bruce Hornsby, who plays piano, and is a great singer in his own right. 1991 kicks all kinds of ass, on par in its own way with 1970, 1974, 1977. The highlight among many is Madison Square Garden, 9-10-91, as saxman Branford Marsalis plays with them for the whole show. For a taste of Branford from the year before, listen to Eyes of the World from the live compilation Without a Net.

They hit the Top 40 in 1987, and even had a video on the MTV.

The grim march to the grave

Hornsby left in late 1991 to get back to his own career. The replacement sucked (he's dead, too). Also, Jerry started getting back into heroin, and the performances were spotty. Great song performances, but no great shows. I saw all of my shows between 1993 and 1995. Jerry died at 53 in 1995.

Nota Bene

Bob Weir

He sings about half the songs, plays rhythm guitar. He's a consummate showman. People who think they know the Dead sleep on him (or even think he's wack), but they only have an incomplete appreciation and can fuck right off. I revere him as god-like. He physically resembles Robert Pires a bit, and his contributions are just as important as Thierry Henry/Jerry Garcia.

Extra credit

Jerry just had to play, man. From about 1972 til the end, he always has a side project, the Jerry Garcia Band. Lots of cover songs, a stripped down line up, often two soul sisters singing backup, mostly electric, sometimes acoustic. The self-titled Jerry Garcia Band album from 1991 is the best example of this work. Highly recommended.

So, uh, yeah…this should get you started. The bus came by and you got on...
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So Massive, Part 1

So massive I couldn't see its contours because it was everywhere, all the time. Took it for granted AND knew how lucky we were.

What could "it" be?

The Los Angeles Lakers.

Speaking casually about them last night with a friend of a friend (rather than seriously, as is the norm), she remarked that this year's loss in the Western Conference Finals seemed like the end of things, and how could it be like this again?

Well, I thought, I know it can be--it took 9 years last time. Nine years from a loss to the Bulls in the 1991 Finals to a title in 2000, the first of 5, after 5 in the '80s. I can handle another 9 years, believe me. Because 9 years, or 19, even 59 can't diminish what I got to see, feel, think about, read about, daydream about from '83 (age 9) through '88 (age 14).  And what those years came to mean to me after '89-'91, and then '91-'99.

Now, a Laker fan recounting those glory years is uninteresting, and probably kind of a dick move, if not downright lame after how Dallas did us this year, I know. So it surprises me too that I'm writing about it what it means to me, because really, in my mind, for all these years, I thought I was a Dodger fan first, a Laker fan second. If you'd asked me then, that's what I'd've told you without hesitation.

I can see why, now. First, I played baseball. So while I enjoyed watching it--and listening to it--baseball was a seriously big part of my life then. But basketball? I stunk, but I liked playing at school in p.e., after school with friends, shooting by myself in the backyard. I practiced baseball but I played basketball.

Second, the basketball season tracked the school year. Starts in the fall, ends in the summer. That's how years passed when you're a kid: not January to December but September to June. So when the Lakers were building that momentum at the end of April, and into May, and then June? Shiiiiit. You were already getting ready to jump out of your skin with excitement for the school year to be over. It was almost too much.

Third, the Lakers were Los Angeles. Showtime was a nickname earned. Yes they won, which is what you want your sports team to do, but they entertained, which is what Los Angeles does, and that's important because no matter how good the Dodgers were, no matter how much I loved baseball, they were just a baseball team. Ain't no showtime in baseball.

No look behind the back passes? No baseball equivalent. Magic's smile? No Hollywood equivalent. AC Green's ability to not have sex during all of this? No earthly equivalent.

And those freebie Laker calendars, with the Lakers all on a boat with sunglasses? The promos with the Laker Girls in bathing suits? C'mon, man, that's gonna leave a mark.

Stay tuned for Part 2.
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A Real American Hero

On this day in 1926, Sergeant Stubby passed away. He was a WWI hero and the only dog to receive a combat promotion to sergeant. He received that promotion for identifying and capturing a German spy, and he had other even more dangerous adventures in aid of the men of the 102nd Infantry, 26th Yankee Division. Read more about this kick-ass pooch on Wikipedia.
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For the First Time in Years, I'm in Love

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Pretty Much What Fred Says

Can't disagree with ol' Fred here:

Next, I will essay the unthinkable for American diplomacy, if it be such, namely cultivating some slight understanding of how others see things instead of always sending the Marines. I know, I know: I risk being called a commie homo prevert, and accused of hating America, and not being brainlessly truculent in the name of endocrine patriotism. But I will make this sacrifice for my country.

For example, Iran, which mysteriously seems not to like us. Why might Iranians not appreciate our enthusiasms for democracy and human rights? In 1953 the wretched CIA, always making trouble for us, overthrew the elected ruler and installed the Shah, a brutal bastard. What did we care? We were surfing at Malibu. Then we supported our good ally Saddam Hussein against Iran in a bloody war started for us by Saddam, and now we freeze Iran’s assets and threaten to bomb it, and we  wreck its perfectly legal atomic program with funny viruses. How could that upset them? Baffling.

More Fred here.

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Eyes > Stomach

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Green?

Supergreen.

Been thinking about verdancy.

Had enough of the soot-black, trash-strewn snow piles.

Thus ends my winter complaining.

Time for a song:


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Things We'll Never See Again

Ronald Reagan often wore a brown suit while president, sometimes even an ugly sportcoat a la Johnny Carson. I'm pretty sure we'll never see that again. Now it's only blue or black, regardless of party affiliation (maybe a charcoal pinstripe every once in a while but don't hold your breath). Just stick to blue or black and don't forget the flag pin.

There's something sad, and vaguely sinister, about that turn of events. It speaks to me of paths not taken--not only not taken, but dynamited over so that nobody can ever go down that path again. 

And I know that dynamite came courtesy of some slick asshole--plucked from an endless pool of slick assholes--with a PowerPoint presentation and a shitload of focus-group studies that explain exactly why it's just got to be black or blue. We've been on that particular path for a long, long time, so it's no surprise we can't get even this little bit of sartorial leadership from our leaders.

I can hear you saying "How absolutely pimp would it be for somebody to bust out a brown suit? And St. Ronnie wore brown, so some brave soul could hang his hat on that, right? " Yeah, but no. Trying to think about that is like trying to think about the square root of -1 or what's on the other side of the edge of the universe. You just can't do it because it's actually impossible--the known rules of the universe prevent you from even contemplating it. 

That dope-as-hell alternate future no longer exists and I'll just have to learn to live with it.
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Shorter Version of My Previous Post

Calling your political opponents "enemies" and comparing them to actual enemies of the United States, past and present, is fucked up and can only end badly for everybody.

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Rhetorical Brinksmanship

Much focus at the moment on the effect of violent political rhetoric. Bullseyes, reloading, Second Amendment Remedies, and all of that. I think it misses the point.

That stuff's pernicious for all sorts of reasons, but really you can find violent rhetoric anywhere you look in America, first and foremost in sports. "He's a warrior," "we're gonna kill 'em," that sorta thing. We're a rootin' tootin' gunslinging, globe-spanning, global defending cowboy, we ruggedly tamed the wild west, Nazis and Communists at the business end of untold firepower. Of course there's always gonna be talk like that.

This isn't the real danger. At least not by itself. It's a spark, but the Santa Ana winds and dead brush on the hillside is the rhetoric that casts a government in power as illegitimate and its elected officials as enemies.

This is what the right engages in, and has been engaging in with increasing effectiveness and efficiency for some time now. It can't be stated any more succinctly or slickly than Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell stating that his number one goal is making sure Obama is a one-term president. I can't catalog all the things that have been said by elected officials, political insiders and pundits that claim the actions of a Democratic Congress or White House are illegitimate and fundamentally dangerous to individual freedom or liberty.

There really isn't much detailed explanation by the right's message machine--let alone by any part of the MSM--of what negative consequences would flow from Democratic policies. I mean, yes, you can see it in editorials and columns here and there, but you'd have to be reading, and print is not where the message wars are waged and won.

In lieu of explanation, you get increasingly strident buzzwords and catch phrases. Job-killing, socialism, government overreach, threat to freedom. You'll never catch them explaining that while their opponents across the aisle care deeply about America and Americans, they believe that policy X is more likely to do Z than policy Y for the following reasons. That shit can't be reduced to a shout-bite. And truth be told it isn't effective at getting people to vote for you (which is even more important when your policy amounts to 1) cut taxes always and first, 2) cut military spending never, and 3) if we have any energy left, see what social safety net programs have the weakest constituencies and cut those).

What happens? A perception that what's at stake is the very survival of our nation, our way of life, the very purity of our precious bodily fluids! Voting for an opponent imperils our very survival! To do so would be treasonous, would enable appeasers and would extend tyranny over the individual! We spent decades and billions fighting godless socialists around the world, why would you want us to do any less fighting the same enemies at home?

Rhetorically speaking, there's not really anywhere to go, is there? They've pushed things to edge, much as the threat of nuclear war allowed the original diplomatic brinksmanship where diplomats would push their demands to the limit. You can only do that if everybody's convinced their very survival is at stake, and that if they don't blink and back down we all lose.

Say what you will of the Democratic party and the left's elected officials, insiders and pundits, but they are not guilty of engaging in this kind of rhetorical brinksmanship--For the most part they kick it old-school, you know, "we want to do A, B and C for X, Y, and Z reasons." Boring but honorable (kinda like Volvos: Boxy, but good). Sure, you can dig up lame name-calling from the Bush years, including Bush=Hitler stupidities, but you'll find nothing with the apocolyptic vigor coming from the right's message machine. That extreme stuff was found on signs held at protests and among people banging the message boards online. The difference is that what's on the signs and message boards these days is also coming out of the mouths of Republican elected officials, insiders and pundits. That's the difference and that is important.

But back to the boring truth. This is America. A boring truth and difficult details will always lose to a flashy lie that pushes buttons in the subconscious and in the reptile brain. The consequences of that are all around us and frightening as hell. A great example: eating fruits and vegetables and exercising will keep you healthy and happy. Why get bogged down in that when it's easier to buy food in boxes, watch tv, and take pills to alleviate your runaway acid reflux and cholesterol? 

Why get bogged down in the details and hard truths when you can call your opponent a threat to freedom and a socialist?
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If You Like Benji Hughes...

The last album I unconditionally recommended, based on having played it non-stop for over a month, was Benji Hughes' A Love Extreme. Click through and I'll show you its English twin, from ten years ago.
As much as I obsessed over A Love Extreme last year, only now do I realize there was another album I responded to in exactly the same way, and it's quite clear why. Englishman Damon Gough, who records as Badly Drawn Boy, put out The Hour of Bewilderbeast in 2000 and like ALE, it's one dude pretty much by himself making a record of all the ideas in his head, putting across different song types with a similar vibe. Even down to the brief instrumental interludes like ALE. UPDATE: What I had on iTunes for Bewilderbeast was about half the tracks, and in the wrong order. The meager selection goes back to the earliest days of adding things, back when storage was at a premium. Now I see the album is overflowing with songs, 18 of them, which is another similarity with ALE.

The key here--and in ALE--is the vibe, man, the vibe, which produces an overall effect that I like to call sonic opium: pleasantly narcotizing, producing a hazy grin and and an easy, even, yet ever-so-slightly-sparkling mood . My favorite band in the whole world (nope, guess again), I See Hawks in L.A., even has a song about that : Beautiful Narcotic Place I Reside.

Not much more to say. Buy it now.
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A Century of the Self

I've referenced this documentary here before. I can't speak highly enough about it.

Here's a description from the BBC website:

The story of the relationship between Sigmund Freud and his American nephew, Edward Bernays. Bernays invented the public relations profession in the 1920s and was the first person to take Freud's ideas to manipulate the masses.

He showed American corporations how they could make people want things they didn't need by systematically linking mass-produced goods to their unconscious desires. Bernays was one of the main architects of the modern techniques of mass-consumer persuasion, using every trick in the book, from celebrity endorsement and outrageous PR stunts, to eroticising the motorcar. His most notorious coup was breaking the taboo on women smoking by persuading them that cigarettes were a symbol of independence and freedom.

But Bernays was convinced that this was more than just a way of selling consumer goods. It was a new political idea of how to control the masses. By satisfying the inner irrational desires that his uncle had identified, people could be made happy and thus docile. It was the start of the all-consuming self which has come to dominate today's world.

Here is Part 1 (of 4):


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Another Tony Judt Obit

This one's at the home of many of his essays, the New York Review of Books.

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Vindication, However Small

Some time ago, I wrote this.

Today, I came across this in an interview with Terry Zwigoff, director of Crumb and Ghost World:

TZ:...The Coen brothers do a lot of movies with a very strong regional dialect. I love the movie they did with Tom Hanks, Ladykillers. That woman Irma P. Hall, I could listen to her all day.

AVC: You said before that you have different tastes than most people in movies, and that would be a case in point, since nearly everyone else seems to dislike The Ladykillers.

TZ: They don’t like The Ladykillers? Huh. Well, it’s better than the original English film, though I’m sure I’ll be crucified for saying that. Mainly because of Irma P. Hall. And I liked Tom Hanks in it, too; I thought he was good.

Crucified? You're hanging with the wrong crowd, Mr. Zwigoff.
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More Tony Judt

The Guardian has a good obit.

I particularly like this line:

By his later years, Judt's adherence to scholarly standards, along with his contempt for charlatans such as Louis Althusser and for academic fashion, made him seem a conservative figure to more modish colleagues. But far from making the notorious journey to the right, he was preaching social democracy to the end of his life. He was a reactionary only in reacting against intellectual dishonesty and imposture (Emphasis mine.)

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Tony Motherfucking Judt, Kick-Ass Chronicler of History, Is Dead at 62

I've written a little bit about him here before. His NYT obit is here.

ALS got him. It took two years. I feel robbed, frankly, but relieved he's free from that prison. I read the news on the subway last night, and goddamn if I didn't start crying. Being an intellectual and a writer ain't like being an athlete; he could have kept cranking out awesome for another 20 years.

He could think and write with the best I've ever read. Only some of his essays at the NYRB are available for free, and I'd been putting off pulling the trigger on a subscription--$69--but I figure I will now. I'd also been lazy about picking up his latest book, Ill Fares The Land, so I'll probably do that too. You can read the opening chapter here.

And to my Jewish friends: I highly recommend his essays on Israel and American foreign policy. He took a lot of shit from pro-Israel-no-matter-what writers, politicians, and hacks. His positions are nuanced and thoughtful, and it pains me to think that part of his legacy will be his "controversial" views, where "controversial" = not parroting AIPAC or the ADL's dogmatic positions.
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Americans

I spend a fair amount of time online reading about politics, foreign policy, stuff like that. And that reading--against my better judgment, sometimes--includes reading the comments section.

Suffice to say, there is no better place to see the seedy underbelly of the American mind, but sometimes you get to see what goes on in equally-but-differently-retarded brains of people from other countries, stuff like this:

Citizens of nations in North or South America who object to Americans being referred to as "Americans" because citizens of the United States of America aren't the only inhabitants of "The Americas."

I'm not kidding, I've encountered it several times, and I did so today.

My response is twofold.

1. Our country has "America" right in its fucking name you fucking pussies!!!!!. United States of America. Calling us Americans is simply shorthand. With a name like ours, we've got a few: U.S., U.S.A, the States, and yes, America. The only one that lends itself to pluralization is America. Pretty simple, right? So is "America" part of your country's name? No? Didn't fucking think so, so shut the fuck up.

2. After shutting the fuck up, find a gun and shoot yourself in the face. Don't have one? Find an American, we've got plenty.
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Inception

I saw it yesterday. Had to wait a week because Jenn was out of town last weekend and we wanted to see it together. So, in that week, I noted that it was getting positive reviews and people around me were eager to talk about it. Very good signs.

Now, when it comes to compensating for hype, I am a pro's pro. At this stage in my movie-watching career I just do not get my expectations inflated. So, when you read the following, don't think I went in expecting MATRIX + THE USUAL SUSPECTS + THE DARK KNIGHT = MOVIEGASM OMG!!!

While I can't deny it was impressive, it left me cold and distinterested.

At its core, the plot was this: man offers thief chance to pull off impossible caper; if thief succeeds, man will fix the result of thief's past mistake. Ok, cool. But the thing to be stolen (or, rather, the thing to be planted during the break-in) and the reasons for doing it DID NOT MATTER. Industrial espionage between two "energy companies"? Had nothing to do with anything. Saito mentioned it in one sentence, and then it has absolutely no relevance to the entire movie. Is Saito's competitor evil? A front for a vast conspiracy? A guarantee to ruin the planet and imperil mankind's future? What will happen if Saito fails? Other than run-of-the-mill business shit, who knows?

This is what doomed the movie to failure for me. The reason could have been anything, and Nolan was content to pick something out of a hat and leave it at that. A capable filmmaker such as Nolan should have had the audience invested in BOTH the reason for the caper and what's at stake for the hero if he's successful. Was I supposed to care that the heir to the company never got love from his daddy? I didn't. Was I supposed to care that Saito busted up his competitor's multi-national corporation? I couldn't, because we did not know why it mattered other than the audience thinking, "Well, for a ruthless tycoon, Saito seems like an ok dude, I guess, so I hope he gets what he wants."

Now, as for Leo's regrets and what he was trying to regain and why...well, this is what Nolan really seemed to care about and what he felt gave the movie its heart. But he managed to clumsily telegraph everything to us. OF COURSE Leo knew "inception" was possible. How else did his wife suddenly get the idea to kill herself to escape the 50-year dream world she was happy to stay in but was boring him to tears? Sorry, Chris. Nothing clever there, at all.

But yes, the planning for the triple-dream scheme was cool. But that was about it.

While I understand that Nolan had to give the studio a whole lot of shoot-em-up CGI sequences so he could get this made, that stuff was painfully shoe-horned in. Oh, the heir has military training? Then his subconscious's dream-attackers will obviously be a highly trained security force that swarms on our heroes with snowmobiles and machine guns and turns this into the Bourne Identity/James Bond. Lame. (Even lamer considering the weakest aspects of Nolan's Batman movies were the action sequences. Though the blame here is on the studio, not Nolan.)

The other aspect that robbed this movie of any shot at being compelling was every single line of dialog being so ridiculously expository. It just wore me down. I couldn't listen to that shit anymore. I realize that complicated things were happening, but these weren't people, they were chess pieces verbalizing the instructions of the chess player. While there was a great deal of that in both Batman movies, it wasn't this overwhelming and Nolan left room for some nifty dialog that helped give the characters life.

Finally, it seems people wanted to discuss the ending. But the way I see it, there's nothing to discuss with regard to Leo. Given the amount of time he'd been away from his very young kids, they should have aged between the time he ran and when he shows up at the end. They hadn't, so he was still dreaming, The End. So showing us Leo waking up on the airplane was cheating. But maybe I missed something because I obviously stopped caring and started writing this review while still in the theater. Maybe the nice warm fluffy happy ending was justified. I was in no position to care.

Clearly I expected more from Nolan. Oh well. Let's hope it's out of his system.
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Move Along, Nothing To See Here

I read the interview and the article below within minutes of each other.

(Full interview here.)

Michael Zezima: Monsanto has given the planet "gifts" like Agent Orange  and Roundup Ready crops, PCBs and GMOs, yet, for most humans, it has pretty much flown under the radar. To what would you attribute the fact that the vast majority of us rail mostly at governments, instead of the far more dangerous and powerfulmultinational corporations?

Marie-Monique Robin: The problem is that the corporations act behind the scene, manipulating information, studies, press and the experts of the regulatory agencies. To speak quite frankly, I had never imagined before that a company could resort to such procedures, to sell its harmful products, in complete impunity, during decades: concealing scientific data, lying, manipulating regulations, corruption, pressuring scientists and journalists, threats. The problem is also that governments do not take any legal action against companies which are repeatedly affecting the environment and the health of consumers. If Monsanto were a private person, it would be convicted as a great criminal, but current law protects the criminal companies, which are never held accountable for the damage they cause. (Emphasis mine.)

Oh, you mean like this?

SEC Split Over Goldman Deal

Republican Disputed Move to Impose Big Fine While Diluting Charge; 3-2 Vote

Thursday's settlement—in which Goldman agreed to pay a $550 million fine, but didn't have to admit it committed fraud—capped one of the most closely watched cases in the SEC's 76-year history. The agency had charged Goldman with intentionally duping clients by selling a mortgage-security product that secretly was designed by another Goldman client betting that the housing market would crash.

Paying a fine. Half a billion. That's just the cost of doing business. Chump change to Goldman. Move along, nothing to see here. No trial, no examination of Goldman's practices.

News of the SEC's lawsuit grabbed big headlines in April, but news of the settlement will be accompanied by crickets and tumbleweeds.

This is an obvious and noxious consequence of a legal system that cannot address criminal behavior by corporations, which I've written about here and here.

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On a related note, with my wife out of town I really went wild last night and watched a 4-hour BBC documentary, A Century of the Self. You can view it here, starting with the first of four parts. You'll learn about Edward Bernays, nephew of Sigmund Freud and progentior of the 20th century's darkest art, commercial propaganda, better known as "public relations." You'll get a good sense of how and why consumerism, corporatism devoured our quaint and old-timey notions of capitalism and democracy. And best of all you get to be the kind of insufferable twit who can claim to watch 4-hour BBC documentaries.

Finally, as a reminder, please keep reading Glenn Greenwald. The man's output nearly defies belief. His almost-daily posting on politically important issues is chock full of links to and about the people and issues he covers. I hesitate to throw labels at him, but lets just say he pisses off Republicans and "center-right" Democrats in equal measure and is scathing in his analysis of what passes for punditry and consensus in Washington. Put another way, this man is my hero.
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