What a Day!

Already we've got Mark Halperin going for the gold and calling the President "kind of a dick" on MSNBC's air. But then, as if the universe itself were trying to do bloggers and ironists a HUGE favor, I read this:

Chris Hansen, the host of NBC’s To Catch a Predator, was himself caught on camera with an apparent mistress in Florida. The sting was arranged by National Enquirer, and it shows Hansen, who is married with children, with Kristyn Caddell, a blonde television anchor 20 years his junior. He took her to a dinner at the Ritz-Carlton in Manalapan before spending the night at her apartment. The couple apparently met four months ago.

Oh, man.  So many directions to go with this one.  The irony is just...wow.  I suppose the only thing that could have made it better would have been if a disapproving, moralizing, middle-aged news anchor could have come up to the table and asked Mr. Hansen what he has to say for himself.  Or if his wife had been in another room watching the video and had come out to confront him.

And all of this the day after the President slapped down the Boehner/Cantor/McConnell cabal.  Shorter version: "I killed bin Laden, now let's make a freaking deal."  Shorter Boehner/Cantor/McConnell: "Take your deal and shove it."  And yet Mark Halperin thinks Obama's the one acting like a dick.  Oy.

Now, I fully appreciate that both of these stories aren't so much news as meta-news.  That is, they're stories about the people who make stories that matter.  But in this case, Halperin and Hansen have something in common, specifically, and I don't think this is just my opinion, they're both jerks.  Hansen was just begging for a fall after years of that disgusting television show that only got put out to pasture when it caused a guy to kill himself while the cameras rolled outside.*  Halperin, on the other hand, has always been an incredibly glib reporter (remember that he once said John Edwards thinks Obama is "kind of a pussy" so he has a history of just this sort of thing) and not a terribly good one to boot.

The way this day is going, maybe we'll get some karmic justice for Bill O'Reilly, Glenn Beck, and Sean Hannity as well!  Who can tell?

*For more on that subject, I highly recommend this article by Esquire's Luke Dittrich.

We Spent $3,700,000,000,000...

...and all we got was a decade of war.

I don't know about you, but I could think of some better uses for that kind of money. Although when it comes to Afghanistan, I'm becoming more and more certain that setting the money on fire would be better than continuing to fund a corrupt and incompetent government. And how many times do we have to hear stories about entire planeloads of cash just up and disappearing before it stops?

Today's bonus music is Bad Religion, "Let Them Eat War." It seems appropriate.

New York, New York

I had thought of interrupting my weekend to post about the New York legislature's historic passage of same-sex marriage, but I figured it could wait.

I've said before that I haven't yet heard an argument against marriage equality for homosexuals that isn't at least implicitly religious.  What other reason is there to care?  Apart from the obvious and sensible cultural prohibitions against rape, incest, and child molestation (which have nothing whatsoever to do with religion), there's really not much reason to care at all about anyone's sexual proclivities.  There are few things more offensive and laughable than the absurd notion that extending a social institution like marriage to gays and lesbians is some sort of a threat to the institution.  How?  What difference did it make to my marriage that a few million more people can get married today than could last week?

More to the point, and I think this is why a few brave Republicans in the New York legislature came around on this issue, letting gays and lesbians enter the institution of marriage is, ultimately, a conservative position.  Rather than wanting to tear down the institution (the radical position), homosexuals are simply asking to join the rest of us in having access to the estate of marriage.  Conservatives should be applauding that.  These people want to join in an institution that promotes societal values of love, care, and loyalty.

At the same time, I suspect that that is precisely why some on the political Right oppose allowing gays and lesbians to marry.  Think about it.  Much of your homophobia in society is based on some very powerful stereotypes.  Namely, that all gay men are pedophiles (read the arguments the Boy Scouts made in Boy Scouts of America v. Dale and you'll see what I mean - the BSA essentially argues that gays shouldn't be allowed in because they all want to rape young boys) and that homosexuals in general are more promiscuous than heterosexuals.  The first of these is a category error.  The second is an outright falsehood created by idiots.  Allowing homosexuals to marry each other destroys both of these stereotypes.  Child rapists aren't interested in getting married, nor are people who just want to have a lot of casual sex with many different partners.  Instead, we're all going to find out that gays and lesbians are a lot like heterosexuals: Some are interested in monogamy, some aren't.  And homosexual rape has a long, long way to go before it's anywhere near as prevalent as heterosexual rape (or rape condoned by the very same religious institutions opposing equality for homosexuals, i.e. the Catholic Church).  Once you destroy those myths about gays and lesbians, all you have left is the "ew" factor.  Some people don't like to think about the way homosexuals have sex.  Then again, those same people would probably be appalled at the way some straight people have sex.  But in any case, it isn't the role of the government to regulate what two (or more) consenting adults do in private.  The government's reach in that sphere extends only so far as these three questions: 1) Is it incest?  2) Are all involved adults legally able to give consent?  3) Has such consent been given?  That's it.

New York, at least, seems to have gotten that message.  And so, in honor of New York's historic achievement, I give you Roy Zimmerman performing "Defenders of Marriage."  Enjoy.

Friday Music XIII - Killswitch Engage Edition

Looking back at the music I've posted on various Fridays, it's been an eclectic mix to say the least.  Punk Bad Religion, twice), American metal (Metallica), indie rock (Guster and Bloc Party), classic rock (Mark Knopfler), even some Billy Joel doo-wop.  But, alas, the time has come to turn the volume up to eleven.  I've been to my share of concerts, but seeing Killswitch Engage perform in a fairly small venue was probably my favorite.  Nothing like some good, loud, obnoxious metalcore to get you pumped up for the weekend.

"Rose of Sharyn"



"Self Revolution"

Quitting is the Republican Way

First Sarah Palin resigned as Governor of Alaska, and now Eric Cantor and John Kyl quit Joe Biden's budget negotiations just as soon as it becomes painfully obvious that revenue increases are the only way out of this mess.  All class.

New GOP slogan: When the going gets tough, quit baby quit!

The Church of Cut My Taxes is still on the march.  President Obama should use this opening to push for an outright repeal of the Bush tax cuts.  Then, and this is crucial, don't flinch.

The Republicans want to bring a gun to the table, metaphorically speaking.  It's time the President brought some artillery of his own.

Jon Stewart vs. Fox, Round Two

Stewart was absolutely on fire last night.  How on fire?  This on fire.

Concealed carry quick thought

I don't know about you, but the thought that the person next to me on the sidewalk could be strapped doesn't exactly fill me with a sense of safety.  In fact, I will feel manifestly less safe when the law goes into effect.

I'm sure a whole lot of gun owners will feel more macho and self-confident, though, so I guess it's all worthwhile.

Now we just wait for the inevitable "accidental" shooting, or the first crime committed by a person with a concealed carry permit, etc., etc.

This Karzai is a lemon

Leslie Gelb blows up at Hamid Karzai:

Ambassador Karl Eikenberry spoke for all Americans, hawks and doves, in publicly slamming President Karzai last weekend. Soon to depart Kabul, the ambassador couldn’t stand another minute of Karzai’s gratuitous attacks on an America that is bleeding itself in lives and dollars for Afghanistan’s freedom. So, he had a few undiplomatic words for the Afghan leader he has long despised in private. Eikenberry’s unmistakable point was this: If Karzai persists in trashing the United States, he will succeed only in convincing more and more Americans to say “enough,” let’s get out of Karzai’s hell hole as quickly as possible. Indeed, if Americans were to hear Karzai’s ingratitude as often as they were exposed to Anthony Weiner’s private parts, U.S. troops would be on their way out of Afghanistan next week.

Considering the persistent rumors of Karzai's ties to the opium trade and his ridiculous remarks of late, I'd say that's not such a bad idea.

The Fear of Dying

Professor Costica Bradatan published an excellent piece in the NYT this weekend, and as a philosophy nerd I simply have to share it.  But Professor Bradatan's subject isn't metaphysics or epistemology, it is death.  Money quote:

There is a point beyond which philosophy, if it is not to lose face, must turn into something else: performance. It has to pass a test in a foreign land, a territory that’s not its own. For the ultimate testing of our philosophy takes place not in the sphere of strictly rational procedures (writing, teaching, lecturing), but elsewhere: in the fierce confrontation with death of the animal that we are. The worthiness of one’s philosophy reveals itself, if anywhere, in the live performance of one’s encounter with one’s own death; that’s how we find out whether it is of some substance or it is all futility. Tell me how you deal with your fear of annihilation, and I will tell you about your philosophy.

Furthermore, death is such a terrifying event, and the fear of it so universal, that to invite it by way of faithfulness to one’s ideas is something that fascinates and disturbs at the same time. Those who do so take on an aura of uncanny election, of almost un-human distinction; all stand in awe in before them. With it also comes a certain form of power. This is why, for example, one’s self-immolation (meant as political protest) can have devastating social and political effects, as we saw recently in Tunisia, when 26-year-old Mohammad Bouazizi set himself on fire. This is also why the death of those philosophers who choose to die for an idea comes soon to be seen as an essential part of their work. In fact their deaths often become far more important than their lives. Why is Socrates such an important and influential figure? Mostly because of the manner and circumstances of his death. He may have never written a book, but he crafted one of the most famous endings of all time: his own. Any philosophical text would pale in comparison.

Bradatan makes a very serious point here.  I once read a philosophical paper (I can't remember the title or author, or I'd give full credit here) which argued that there are multiple different fears which make death and dying so terrifying for most people.  Those fears included the fear of the process of dying, the fear of judgment, and the fear of annihilation.  Each of these is completely understandable, but let's take a moment to unpack them.

The fear of the process of dying is obvious - death involves organs shutting down, and the processes of life ceasing.  It's perfectly natural to presume that there's going to be some pain, perhaps even excruciating pain, involved.  To provide a very personal example, take the case of my grandfather, who died a year and a half ago from an catastrophic stroke.  He collapsed and was, essentially, dead when he hit the floor.  The suddenness of it was brutal.  But, despite that, I distinctly remember feeling a measure of relief at the funeral.  Relief that Grandpa hadn't been made to linger in pain and misery.  Similar sentiments were expressed aloud by other mourners.  We humans may naturally fear death, but part of that is apprehension of the area between "alive" and "not alive."  The shorter the interval between the two states, we seem to acknowledge, the better.

Fear of judgment is a different matter.  Partly, I would argue, it's a matter of people being programmed from very early ages (in most cases) to believe that there is an omniscient, omnipotent being who can and will pass judgment on everyone without exception after they die.  This serves a few purposes.  First, there's the obvious position that religion, by hypothesizing a universal judgment after death, promotes good behavior here on Earth in order to avoid punishment or attain paradise in the hereafter.  But more subtly, it appeals to the innate desire for justice that most humans seem to have.  Whether or not you believe that "the arc of history is long, but it bends toward justice" (and I have very serious doubts about that sentiment, much to the dismay of my Hegelian friends), there is an appeal to the idea that, in the end, all accounts will be settled, and all wrongs made right.  This yearning for just deserts to be given out is always overheard when theists confront atheists.  "If there is no God, then it doesn't matter how bad you are while you live.  You could be as bad as Hitler and just kill yourself before you got punished, and nothing bad would ever happen to you."  It feels good to imagine that Hitler and other evil humans are in Hell, eternally suffering for their misdeeds.  But knowing that others are suffering for their sins requires one to believe that the same fate is possible for oneself, hence the fear of judgment.

Finally, the trickiest one.  The fear of annihilation isn't talked about like the process of dying and the possibility of judgment.  In fact, it's rarely talked about at all, and the philosophers who have done the best job of addressing the fear of nothing beyond this life tend to be, well, not very uplifting.  Certainly the nihilists have their thoughts, as do the existentialists.  Personally, I think Sartre and especially Camus do the best job of confronting the fear of annihilation.  The Myth of Sisyphus is probably the most frank discussion of death and nothingness in an indifferent universe that can be found.  Even theists, fearing that their faith is misplaced, worry over the possibility of a great nothing beyond this life.  Kierkegaard gave serious thought to that sentiment, as did Pascal (although I share Hitchens' disgust for Pascal's hucksterish and disingenuous Wager, which laughably presents the issue of God's existence in the same way a used car salesman would, i.e. "What do you have to lose?").  We don't want to believe that the Grand Inquisitor in The Brothers Karamazov was right and that all that awaits us beyond the grave is death.  But the possibility is there, and this is what Bradatan is addressing.  Our response to our natural fear that there is nothing, simply nothing, after our short lives end, is the defining characteristic of our personal philosophy.

Consider some possible responses to this fear.  Sincere theists, for instance, deny it with faith.  They honestly believe and positively assert that there is something more beyond this life.  Most atheists (myself included) are agnostic on the question of what happens after death - we simply do not, and by definition cannot while we draw breath, know what happens after we die.  But, having no evidence to suggest otherwise, we must at least prepare ourselves for the eventuality that there is only nothingness, which is exactly what there was before we were born.  It would be very curious if there were some sort of eternal state of being which extended forward in time but not backward.  But the very idea of anything being eternal is scientifically and metaphysically absurd.  Even the stars in the heavens will eventually burn out.  The universe itself will end, whether by heat death, a big rip, or a big crunch, all of this reality will pass away, albeit in a very, very, very long time.  It makes no sense to me to say, without any evidence, that I could somehow outlive the universe that I am a part of.  This is why I tend towards the existentialist branch of thought when it comes to annihilation.  I don't at all share Sartre's Marxist leanings (which he himself realized were in conflict with his individualistic philosophy), but I do agree with him that, at the very least, I need to live with the assumption that this is the only shot at living I am going to get, and I had better make the most of it.

That being said, I don't want there to be nothingness.  Who could?  It's not really possible to escape the fear of nothingness, because the mind simply recoils at the thought.  At best, it's extremely difficult for our minds to comprehend our own nonexistence.  Speaking personally again, I find the thought of never again seeing my wife, of a separation from her for all time, to be one of the most awful possibilities my mind can conceive.  It does not comfort me in the slightest that if I am annihilated, I will not be conscious and aware of that separation from her.  If wishing an eternal afterlife into existence could make it so, then I wouldn't have to worry about it, because we all would have wished it into existence.  But, if there's any point of philosophy that has really stuck with me, it is the existentialists' argument that the universe is coldly indifferent to its inhabitants.  It is neither malevolent nor benevolent in its workings, it simply is what it is, irrespective of how we feel about it.  Sometimes the dealer tosses you aces, and sometimes the dice come up snake eyes.*  There's no right or wrong to it.

That's my answer to Bradatan's challenge.  I concede, it isn't a happy one.  My wife sometimes confronts me on the subject of philosophy, and she has a valid point.  The gist of her argument is this, "Thinking about things like nothingness and the end of life clearly isn't making you happier.  So why not think about something else, or change your mind?"  My response is always the same: "I can't."  On this score, I concede I envy the very religious.  They may be deluding themselves, and they may be believing on no evidence whatsoever, but self-deception usually has the benefit of making the individual happy.  On some level, I would be very comforted it I could believe that there is a benevolent, omnipotent, omniscient father-like God to spare me from nothingness after I die.**  I'd be a lot happier if I could believe that my wife and I could be together for all time.  I don't think anything would make me happier.

But I can't.  Nor can I simply not think about it.  In my mind, at least, I have to think about it.  Mortality is inevitable.  It's coming, and there's nothing anyone can do about it.  I'm certain about very few things in this life, but the fact that it will end is one of them.  The best I can do is remain agnostic about what happens after that end, and at least prepare myself for the potential for nothingness.  And, more importantly, live my life to the fullest possible extent, because I have no reason to believe I will get a do-over.

*Holy mixed metaphor!

**On another level, I'd be a lot less comforted if that God were as dictatorial as his followers say he is.

H/T: Sullivan.

Shooting fish in a barrel

Hitch takes down David Mamet.*  One of them is a playwright with no apparent sense of politics or timing (defending Sarah Palin when she's on the downturn doesn't speak well to either, anyway), the other is probably the greatest living polemic writer on the planet.  It almost doesn't seem fair.  And from the first clause ("This is an extraordinarily irritating book, written by one of those people who smugly believe that, having lost their faith, they must ipso facto have found their reason."), you know Hitchens isn't taking any prisoners.

Some of David Mamet’s unqualified declarations are made even more tersely. On one page affirmative action is described as being “as injust as chattel slavery”; on another as being comparable to the Japanese internment and the Dred Scott decision. We learn that 1973 was the year the United States “won” the Vietnam War, and that Karl Marx — who on the evidence was somewhat more industrious than Sarah Palin — “never worked a day in his life.” Slackness or confusion might explain his reference to the ­Scottish-Canadian newspaper magnate Lord Beaverbrook as a Jewish courtier in the tradition of Disraeli and Kissinger, but it is more than ignorant to say of Bertrand Russell — author of one of the first reports from Moscow to analyze and excoriate Lenin — that he was a fellow-traveling dupe and tourist of the Jane Fonda style.

Propagandistic writing of this kind can be even more boring than it is irritating. For example, Mamet writes in “The Secret Knowledge” that “the Israelis would like to live in peace within their borders; the Arabs would like to kill them all.” Whatever one’s opinion of that conflict may be, this (twice-made) claim of his abolishes any need to analyze or even discuss it. It has a long way to go before it can even be called simplistic. By now, perhaps, you will not be surprised to know that Mamet regards global warming as a false alarm, and demands to be told “by what magical process” bumper stickers can “save whales, and free Tibet.” This again is not uncharacteristic of his pointlessly aggressive style: who on earth maintains that they can? If I were as prone to sloganizing as Mamet, I’d keep clear of bumper-sticker comparisons altogether.

Ouch.

*Full disclosure: Mamet, despite his recent incoherent political rantings, is the author of probably my favorite play, Glengarry Glen Ross, for which he won a well-deserved Pulitzer Prize.  I own the film adaptation, and I see performances whenever I can.  But like the tragically flawed hero of that play, Shelley "The Machine" Lavine, Mamet's been on the decline for quite a long time now.