Monday, April 20, 2015
No, I don’t smoke marijuana. In fact, those times when I did smoke cannabis in college, I never got high. (I concluded that I must be high 24/7.) But it strikes me as silly that pot is criminalized while more deadly things, like cigarettes and other forms of tobacco, are legal. In this video, Ezra Klein recites the facts about marijuana and why its illegality — in the face of more dangerous substances being legal — is so absurd.
Friday, April 17, 2015
Continuing my contemplations of the U.S. economy and my mistrust of the Republicans’ tax-cuts-only, shrink-the-government fiscal policies:
I recently stumbled across this article from the Washington Post, written back in 2011: “Barbra Boxer’s Blatant Rewriting of History.” The article arose because Democrats and Republicans were arguing over the bragging rights for the 1990s prosperity: Dems attributing it solely to President Bill Clinton’s 1993 budget (including its tax hikes on the wealthy), while the GOP ascribes it to their focus on balancing the budget once they gained control of Congress in 1994. According to the Post article, the prosperity was a mix of both these efforts, plus the economic upswing brought about by the technology boom. The article is very helpful by explaining in detail — using language comprehensible to the average reader — why the ’90s economy was so good.
My biggest takeaway from the Post article is how the congressional GOP insisted on a balanced budget under Clinton the Democrat, but they then gave away the resulting budget surplus (through tax cuts and greater government spending) once Republican George W. Bush was in the Oval Office. This, of course, unbalanced the budget again, undoing so much of the Republican’s purported monetary goal. While Republicans said that the 2001 and 2003 tax cuts would shift the American financial system into warp speed, Bush presided over what the Washington Post calls “the weakest eight-year span for the U.S. economy in decades.” Economist Paul Krugman believes that the GOP amassed deficits again as a means to shrink the government. According to Krugman, the Republicans didn’t want a government the size that it was under Clinton to be able to pay for itself. By running up budget deficits again and then calling for a return to a balanced ledger — primarily via tax cuts — Republicans hope, says Krugman, that the government will be forced to jettison its agencies and activities (such as the Environmental Protection Agency) that the GOP doesn’t like. This is why Republicans today insist on balancing the budget — exclusively through cutting taxes, with absolutely no increase in revenues — after they had eradicated the budget surplus that marked the end of the Clinton presidency.
However, when Republicans talk about the need to balance the budget, they seldom acknowledge the budget surplus of the 1990s. Instead, they say (or at least imply) that the budget has always been unbalanced. They insist that the only way to stop “kicking the can down the road” is to shrink the government and slash taxes — as Republican House Speaker John Boehner of Ohio does in the above video clip — obfuscating the fact that the 1990s balanced budget was achieved, in part, by raising taxes on the wealthy .
I believe that this country’s economic experience over the last 25 years proves that Democrats are better custodians of the American economy than Republicans are. Most conservatives will disagree with me about that. But what this country’s monetary experience during the presidencies of Clinton and Bush does indeed prove is that at the very, very least, Democratic economic policies are not the fiscal kiss of death that Republicans say they are, and Republican economic policies aren’t the panacea that the GOP claims them to be.
In this video from his YouTube page, Republican Speaker Boehner says, “For 53 of the last 60 years, the federal government has spent more than it has taken in,” and that, to him, is a bad thing. What he doesn’t say is that the seven years that the federal budget was in balance were due primarily to Democratic fiscal policies, and that balanced budget was undone primarily by Republican fiscal policies. This raises the question: Why not return to those Democratic economic policies, particularly raising taxes on the wealthiest 2% of Americans? But the Republican Party’s refusal to consider any new tax increases precludes this possibility. (And don’t get me started on all of the obstinate Republican conspiracy theories about Benghazi.)
Sunday, April 12, 2015
My last blogpost marked the 150th anniversary of the end of the Civil War, with Confederate General Robert E. Lee’s surrender to U.S. General Ulysses S. Grant in Appomattox Court House, Virginia, on April 9, 1865. But today, Sunday, marks the 154th anniversary of the beginning of the war with the bombardment by Confederate forces on the U.S. army post of Fort Sumter in the harbor of Charleston, South Carolina, on April 12, 1861. Yes, the U.S. Civil War was only three days shy of officially being exactly four years long.
But in some ways, the Civil War has never really gone away. Although the war and it’s aftermath enabled the ratification of the Fourteenth Amendment to the Constitution, which recognized the rights of full citizenship for African Americans, it was quickly followed by Jim Crow laws in the South, which effectively denied those rights. Concurrently, there also arose the idea of the idyllic antebellum South, a region of genteel (white) aristocracy and happy, dancing (black) slaves, a region that was ultimately a victim of Northern aggression but also a possessor of indomitable spirit and honor.
It’s difficult not to see this idealized image of the antebellum South as racist. The slave-owning South marked a way of life whose underpinnings were kept in place by a racially based, inhuman system of labor, without which that lifestyle would collapse. Perhaps nowhere else was such a refined way of life directly traceable to such a miserable way of life, and this cried out for a demystification of the exploitative underpinnings of all seemingly polished hierarchical societies. But this rosy image and myth of the antebellum American South mystified its inhuman economic basis all over again.
Along with this myth arose the image of the white Southerner as the scrappy underdog, as the little guy put upon by larger, more impersonal social forces. In his book The Silent Clowns, Walter Kerr describes the idealization of the Confederacy in reference to Buster Keaton’s Civil War-set comic film The General (1926):
[T]he Civil War, of course, had been traumatic for North and South alike: in the martyrdom of Lincoln on the one hand, in the loss of a way of life on the other. The power of legend lay on the side of the South: almost all successful plays, novels, and films have cast their sympathies there, acting on an intuition Keaton shared. “It’s awful hard,” he [once said], “to make heroes out of Northerners.” It was not the dream that had survived but the dream that had vanished that lingered on as myth. The old South was Troy. (p. 247)
For this reason, Keaton dramatized a historical incident of Union soldiers going behind enemy lines to steal a train as the fiction of a lone Southerner who goes across enemy lines to steal back his train. Although the Northerners were the true heroes of history, their allegiances had to be transposed to the other side in order for the fiction to “work.”
Perhaps the two most notable films to come out of Hollywood in the pre-World War Two years (and maybe beyond) were D.W. Griffith’s The Birth of a Nation (1915), a paean to the old South and the Ku Klux Klan that basically defined the feature film, and Victor Fleming’s Gone with the Wind (1939), arguably the first blockbuster and which portrayed the hardships suffered by the overpowered South as an allegory of the sufferings by Americans during the Great Depression. (Significantly, the “nation” being “birthed” in Griffith’s film is the Jim Crow South, so the title questions the former Confederacy seeing itself as an integral part of the U.S.) Both movies, of course, were enormously successful in their times, so one may reasonably assume that many of the inheritors of the undivided Union had no trouble seeing themselves in those who fought against it.
But these two films were only the most conspicuous of a persistent trend in American cinema. The General has already been introduced as an example. Others (to mention only two) include Santa Fe Trail (1940 — “one of the top-grossing films of the year”), in which the abolitionist John Brown (Raymond Massey) is the bad guy, and more subtly, the western Shane (1953), in which characters use the word “Yankee” almost as invective. More recently, successful films like Smokey and the Bandit (1977) and TV shows like The Dukes of Hazzard (1979-85) have little-guy protagonists who strongly identify as Southern — in the latter case, complete with a car nicknamed the “General Lee” with the Confederate battle flag painted on top.
This brings up the subject of the Confederate battle flag itself and many people, especially in the South, continuing to fly it. Some say that they fly it to honor their Confederate ancestors who died under it. But this sounds slightly disingenuous: these ancestors died fighting for the cause of slavery. Confederate apologists will dispute my last sentence, saying that the South’s cause was states’ rights. But that also sounds disingenuous. The Confederates were primarily fighting for the states’ “right” to continue the institution of slavery: no non-slave state seceded from the Union in the 1860s and the “right” for white Southerners to own black slaves was spelled out in the Confederate constitution. Knowing that the widespread use of the Confederate battle flag as a symbol of “Southern pride” came more recently in reaction to desegregation and equal-rights laws, continuing to fly it smacks of a thumb in the eye of racial equality.
No, the real underdogs of the 19th-century South were the black slaves, whose unremunerated labor and wretched existence made the Southern way of life possible. And the glorification — by the media or by anyone else — of the antebellum South, the Confederate States of America, or an abiding Southern identity that implicitly promises to “rise again” marks an effort to rewrite Civil War history as the victimization of the victimizers, as if to say that slavery in the pre-Civil War South wasn’t so bad after all.
From Ken Burns’s PBS documentary mini-series ‘The Civil War’ (1990)
Thursday, April 9, 2015
From the Deep South Daily:
Seven score and ten years ago, our forefathers lost the war to the Northern Aggressors. In other words, today marks 150 years since the South lost to the North in the American Civil War.
On April 9, 1865, Confederate General Robert E. Lee surrendered in Virginia. Yet 150 years later, many in our region are still fighting the lost war. Some of us do it by flying Confederate flags, complete with lofty slogans like, “The South Will Rise Again!” and “Heritage, Not Hate!”
Some of us do it in more insidious ways....
Saturday, April 4, 2015
For Easter: the choral work “Thy Cross We Worship” by Russian composer Pyotr Goncharov (1888-1970). (No, I’m not a Christian, but I do like this musical piece that I first heard in Chris Marker’s film La Jetée , and I though that Easter would be a good time to share it.)
Wednesday, March 25, 2015
Here, in my opinion, is a truly great short, abstract film: Ralph Steiner’s H2O (1929). In this film, the image’s eventual distillation from clearly identifiable shots of water into a series of constantly undulating abstract designs on its surface — in glorious black & white — is a marvel of early avant-garde filmmaking. I think that H2O ought to be taught in “introduction to cinema” classes. However, I didn’t learn about this extraordinary film until well after I left college. Although I took a class on American avant-garde cinema, our professor began this kind of film in 1943, with Maya Deren and Alexander Hammid’s rightfully legendary (but not unprecedented) Meshes of the Afternoon. So, not only was H2O off the syllabus, but so were such intriguing prewar American avant-garde films as Robert Florey’s The Life and Death of 9413: A Hollywood Extra (1928) and James Sibley Watson and Melville Webber’s Lot in Sodom (1933). Now, with H2O (a silent film, here accompanied with new music by Larry Marotta) and other experimental shorts now accessible on video and the Internet, a more complete picture of the long history of avant-garde cinema is finally available to be seen by a wide audience.
Wednesday, March 11, 2015
When debating the economy, Republicans and Democrats often talk past each other. That’s because most Republicans believe very fervently that these shaky economic tenets are true, while most Democrats at least question them — if not believing with equal fervency that they are false. If the two parties can’t agree on the fundamentals of what makes the economy tick, I don’t see how any truly meaningful bipartisan economic legislation, legislation that helps most Americans, can come out of Washington.