gin rummy

Many pointed out the criminal hagiography of leading media obituaries of Donald Rumsfeld, who died two days ago—particularly the AP’s, by Robert Burns. The troubling truth is that these obituaries are essentially mundane, and would say the same about any of these people—Bush, Cheney, etc—even as leftists react with horror (or glee). The mainstream media is incapable of seeing these individuals as agents; they are instead figures embedded in institutions at distinct moments in history, synthesized into a sort of ‘great man’ theory of everything, updated for the spectacle-ized circus of the Western 21st century. Thus Rumsfeld’s downfall is (at worst) predicated on ‘mismanagement’ of the Iraq War, or poor politicking in its wake—not on criminal, sadistic cruelty, murder, pillage—and obviously, deceit—actions that by definition make him a war criminal, not to mention an atrocious human.

It will be the same when Bush is gone—if he died tomorrow, his obituaries might focus on his being a leading ‘anti-Trump voice’ in the GOP. If Kissinger ever dies, he will be noted (maybe) as controversial, after being described as one of the leading statesmen of the 20th century.

In other words—Rumsfeld is absolved, because everyone in power is absolved (except for the rare scapegoat, into whom is distilled some vague and dislocated societal sense of collective sin). In doing so the country is absolved, its agency denied, instantly forgiven, permitted no reckoning with the consequences of the horror and evil underlying it, the destruction it has wrought—and the perverse criminality of the men and women who do after all direct it is diluted into bureaucratic hum. Why? To do otherwise is anathema to the American creed of always being virtuous, maybe.

Rumsfeld of course is virtue-less but his death becomes basically meaningless. In their statement, his family said: ‘History may remember him for his extraordinary accomplishments over six decades of public service…’ I doubt it. I don’t think history will remember him; in the ongoing crack-up of the reigning consensus only those in the political-media elite will, and they only for a short while. He’ll probably be forgotten like all of these people. Which is sort of a shame, because despite how the Iraq War is collectively understood today (banal, misguided), the catastrophic crimes for which Rumsfeld was distinctly responsible are anything but mundane. To the extent he’s remembered, God willing, people will hold onto that.

strange feeling

There has been a strange feeling in the air this last month and a half. Instead of more certain, things just seem to grow more twisted, more convoluted.

Like I suspect many I’ve often felt paradoxically more confused and hopeless in the wake of Biden’s electoral “victory”—and I only put victory in quotes because the naked word seems to imply a spontaneity that is belied by the managerial quality underlying this election. In other words, this was a choice in the most barren sense of the term—Biden was served up on a platter and imbued with whatever anti-Trump qualities he required for any given audience—more or less, that is—often it was just, take it or leave it. That Biden was the architect of the world that made Trump was irrelevant and so that was sort of ubiquitously shoved under the rug… of course these things can only stay down for so long, they will resurface, and so now we live the strange experience of having both the train continue to run with no brake or even modest self-reflection while liberals’ worst instincts and ideas—and their fecklessness and impotence—all quixotically appear reaffirmed. And I emphasize liberals because they serve a key constitutive role in this society and civilization—they prevent us from seeing the inherent brutality and inhumanity of it—they give it its gloss—which may or may not have a little life left.

This isn’t to say I think the alternative (a second Trump term) would be preferable in any way, but the way this is playing out has been so bizarrely hollow, and so often disspiriting, it’s all difficult to make sense of.

What sticks out to me is that the confusion of the Trump years—the disorientation of liberalism, the insanity of the right, the mass cultural freak-out, rightly or wrongly—is in no way abating, it is intensifying. The strangeness, the distortion, the misalignment—it has been reaffirmed. Trump did break the system, and the collective mind, and it was not just he by any means, but he was the biggest, loudest, stupidest element in it, the most massive and grotesque representation of it. What he’s done cannot be undone. And while he does indeed exist and create on a continuum, he also is and was something new, and we live in that world now.

Chris Hedges, Diana Johnstone, antifa

I was an admirer of Chris Hedges for many years. While I have not followed him regularly over the last couple, I recently went looking and was mildly surprised and curious to see that he had interviewed Diana Johnstone on his show on RT. 

I barely know Johnstone as a writer and thinker but found her to be a relatively early and concerning example of overlap between left / far-right in the Trump era—in practice, an advocate of the “red-brown alliance.” While I find Hedges’ views on antifa to be retrograde and simplistic, I was curious as to what their conversation would be like.

The first twenty minutes or so are actually quite interesting and not especially controversial, aside from particular emphasis being placed on *the switch on the left (to a focus on identity politics) happened at X point.* But broadly, the perspective is correct, and interesting, and the emphatic shift from a material approach to politics to a social-rhetorical one is as always worth considering—so long as you have somewhere to go from it.

I’m not sure Johnstone does, and Hedges, for his many merits, allows her critique of antifa as—rather inexplicably—“the thought-police… the storm troopers, of the system,” to go essentially unchallenged. He does not disagree—at best, whether he agrees or not is up for debate, and he does not challenge her. He goes on to restate his familiar, essentially reactionary criticisms of antifa: “it’s all about spectacle… they don’t organize, they don’t educate… they don’t have a vision.”

Rather than Johnstone’s view of antifa as the inevitable dead-end of a left focused on tone-policing social issues, a more reasonable characterization might see the movement as a particular phenomenon within a decayed and broken down era. Why she cannot square that circle is beyond me, but she certainly appears friendly to the far-right. Why Hedges, a man with a real grasp of history, also misses this point remains somewhat more unclear to me (much less, why he chooses to platform Johnstone). Whether he approves of antifa’s tactics or not is one question—moralistic condemnation is another beast, and at least in his case, constitutes a not particularly meaningful assessment. For whatever reason, he remains wedded to this criticism.

essay on David Brooks from 2019

Unbeknownst to me, David Brooks recently wrote a book—The Second Mountain—about something of a midlife crisis and his ensuing search for ethics and morality in its context. I will not pretend to have read it; I have no time to read such a book and imagine it would be an excruciating experience given how consistently unbearable his 400-word columns are. Nonetheless I read a review by David Wallace-Wells in the New Yorker that I think found the book pretty loosely substantiated and suggested Brooks is apparently close to self-identifying as a Christian—it was sort of hard to tell from the tone of the essay. In any event, what I already knew was that Brooks recently got divorced and married his research assistant, 23 years his junior—I am fairly certain alleged war criminal and proven Iraq war cheerleader Jeffrey Goldberg was one of his groomsmen, along with a host of other similarly useless, socially parasitic older-middle-aged men. 

It’s hard to see what Brooks is going through ‘spiritually’ as much other than a justification of an extremely run-of-the-mill midlife crisis—except with any serious clarity of judgment, someone who had existed in such an inexplicable position as Brooks would experience a more turbulent moral reckoning than he undergoes now. Underlying this process is the fact that like many other mainstream ‘conservatives,’ Brooks feels essentially forced out of conservatism in the Trump era, neglecting the obvious fact that Trump is the inevitable end product of everything he’s championed his entire career. It doesn’t really matter. Brooks obfuscates, and has a seemingly unique talent, if one can call it that, for twisting what should be the pangs of a guilt-stricken moral compass into abstract platitudes about moral fiber & fortitude.

Indeed these vaguely moralistic columns are clearly Brooks’ hallmark, and what seems to endless infuriate myself and other masochists who compulsively read his imbecilic drivel (I don’t do it so much anymore; I’m quitting) is a uselessly vague ‘ethics’ coupled with zero structural knowledge of anything he’s talking about. Brooks couldn’t be just a fifty-five year old piece of shit who’s been consistently wrong his entire career, perhaps latently detests himself, and decided to leave his wife and marry a younger woman (and become a Christian, which I won’t even get into)—instead he’s a man on a quest, a man of spirit, on an ethically regenerative cleanse—or so he says.

This repackaged vacuousness is what is so odious and pathetic and ultimately infuriating about Brooks, as he remains, inexplicably, at the top of the media status quo, and is paid presumably six figures a year, and granted innumerable speaking spots, to churn out this garbage. The man is boring, interminably boring, he has nothing to say, his prose is cartoonishly bad. (Reflecting on this sentiment, I suddenly suppose that these qualities ultimately make him an ideal contemporary media personality. After all, he is not exactly an ‘outlier’ at the paper of record, as the editorial board is almost exclusively staffed by politically obtuse, tepid, mediocre writers almost indistinguishable from one another in content and form. So not much to say there, no point in expecting more from them now).

To leave off I return to the last Brooks column I read, written just after Biden announced, which felt like a sigh of relief from Brooks and was expressed as a paean to Biden, who, according to Brooks, is not just a good candidate, but a good guy. Biden’s harassment of women, the racism expressed in his opposition to busing, ‘leadership’ on the 1994 crime bill, and comment that Obama was a ‘clean’ black man, certainly others—very basic barometers for what might constitute decency, separate even from his atrocious neoliberal policies that Brooks naturally supports—remain uninterrogated. Which gets at the heart of the absence of Brooks’ commentary: Joe is good because Joe is vaguely an everyman; an everyman is some sort of decent meaningless abstraction of person, culturally and politically in the ‘center’—also an uninterrogated concept—further conversation not needed. For Brooks (and so many others, but most platonically and emptily, probably Brooks) Joe Biden exists as a generalized personality on a bland, mainstream cultural/media landscape, and that’s enough for Brooks to write an entire column in defense or even praise of the ‘morality’ of this position.

Indeed, Brooks does not even try to reconcile his signature social critique, the breakdown of social bonds, the vague accusation of ‘tribalism’ we so often hear from the impotent center, with any structural consideration of the period in which he declares social breakdown has been happening. It’s a matter of personal, individual morals, of character.

So Brooks meanders through life with this platitudinous perspective, perpetually unable to understand what’s really happening, perceiving politics on a day-by-day basis and constitutionally unable to reflect on his position in the media ecosystem. 

All this said—I went into that Biden column with a sort of seething fury—and yet I was left at the end feeling less angry than profoundly sad. The intense pressure and presence of Brooks’ worldview, its utter emptiness, hit me hard and I thought: this is how this man actually sees the world? This is what he thinks will fix things?

It is sad—Brooks is perhaps most of all a deeply sad character—and yet from his wholly undeserved position he continues to produce this insufferable pablum. What is one to do?