|Cartoon by Theo Moudakis for The (Toronto) Star|
Thursday, July 4, 2019
From the Washington Post:
The authoritarian nationalist leader typically rewrites the story of the nation in his own image, in a very particular way. Our own homegrown authoritarian nationalist has proved particularly devoted to this fusion of national mythmaking and self-hagiography, often delivered in his own unique language of crass, gaudy spectacle.
The historians tell us that this is what authoritarian nationalists do. As Harvard’s Jill Lepore puts it, they replace history with tried-and-true fictions — false tales of national decline at the hands of invented threats, melded to fictitious stories of renewed national greatness, engineered by the leader himself, who is both author of the fiction and its mythic hero.
This is what we will be seeing in one form or another on the Fourth of July, no matter what Trump says in his planned Independence Day speech from the Lincoln Memorial. The very act of taking over the proceedings in the manner he has cooked up itself accomplishes this feat.
Read the full article.
Friday, June 28, 2019
|Supreme Court Chief Justice John Roberts|
The Supreme Court’s Thursday morning [June 27, 2019] ruling in Rucho v. Common Cause amounts to a blank check for partisan gerrymandering. Chief Justice John Roberts’s opinion holds that federal courts should not have the power to declare particular maps unconstitutional, as doing so would be “unprecedented expansion of judicial power ... into one of the most intensely partisan aspects of American political life.”
What this means, in practice, is that local authorities get to decide on the shape of House and state legislative districts. Parties that control statehouses will be freer to not only cement their own hold on power but ensure that their party sends more representatives to Washington as well.
Thursday, June 27, 2019
Tuesday, June 25, 2019
|Frances Lee McCain (left) and Pamela Bellwood in ‘The War Widow’ (1976)|
As long as we’re celebrating Gay Pride Month...
Quite a few LGBT+ characters populate prime-time network television these days. Where gay and lesbian characters were virtually banished from the small screen in previous decades, sitcoms like Ellen and Will and Grace in the 1990s gradually established room for a gay presence in TV comedy. By today, TV audiences now have a few prime-time network dramas with openly LGBT+ leads and supporting characters shown in relatable romantic situations. This marks a great sea change from when the female buddy-cop show Cagney & Lacey (1981-88) replaced one of its lead cast members because the network executives thought the actress, Meg Foster, was giving off too much of a lesbian vibe. Prime-time network television — the kind you can see without a cable subscription — stands as a modest microcosm of how we see ourselves as a society. And the fact that microcosm now includes LGBT+ lead characters confirms that it has grown to be more inclusive.
Still, given this relatively newfound presence of romantic LGBT+ lead characters on our living-room screens, not much acknowledgement is made of the first network broadcast to push that particular envelope; not much acknowledgement is made of the teleplay that Wikipedia calls the “first lesbian love story on mainstream American television,” which initially appeared all the way back in 1976. I’m referring to the shot-on-video drama The War Widow, which was first presented as part of PBS’s dramatic anthology series Visions (1976-80). Directed by Paul Bogart and written by playwright Harvey Perr, The War Widow appeared in a TV environment that made clear its hostility to non-heterosexual expressions of desire. As the New York Times TV critic said in the paper’s review of The War Widow:
There probably isn’t a group in the nation that, at one time or another, couldn’t complain about being portrayed offensively, but the award for most battered must belong to lesbians. On [the TV series] Policewoman [1974-78], they have been seen ripping off and murdering the helpless residents of an old-age home. In [the TV movie] Born Innocent , they brutally raped hapless Linda Blair in a shower room. They puff cigars. They snarl. They are outrageously distorted.
|Bellwood and McCain in ‘The War Widow’|
To some degree, the teleplay’s paucity of acknowledgement is understandable: today’s LGBT+ audiences want to see gay characters who openly display affection for their partners, visible proof that these characters are indeed attracted to the same gender. But The War Widow is very much a product of its time: the lesbian leads barely touch each other, and their “romantic” scenes together come across as rather chaste, reflecting PBS’s apparent fear of alienating an audience unused to seeing unreviled same-sex attraction on TV (or virtually anywhere else, for that matter). One can easily imagine a present-day lesbian audience losing patience with The War Widow’s reticence in showing two women in love with each other.
However, The War Widow’s story is set in a repressive environment — the American upper-middle-class during World War One — where most of the characters are hesitant about expressing any kind of emotion, so the absence of more ardent romantic scenes between the two women encourages the viewer to question what other expressions of passion are being veiled by the conventions of polite society. In short, I think The War Widow is due for reappraisal as both a trailblazing depiction of alternative sexuality on TV, and as an affirmative but understated view of lesbian romance, especially in contrast to TV’s more recent and more frank portrayals.
Fortunately, all one hour and eighteen minutes of The War Widow have been posted on YouTube, so viewers can see for themselves if the teleplay’s oblique view of same-sex romance antiquates the drama beyond all use, or survives as a coy but compelling narrative strategy that can still engage LGBT+ audiences.
Saturday, June 22, 2019
Happy Pride Month!
And with those words, we mark the shifting of a social tectonic plate. And it was a long time coming.
Having grown up heterosexual in the 1960s and ’70s, I vividly remember when what used to be known as “homosexuality” was perhaps the greatest taboo and most suffocating social stigma. But today, the mere fact that the word “homosexuality” is falling out of favor and falling out of use (the GLAAD Media Reference Guide says that the word pejoratively smacks of a psychological disorder, which same-sex attraction isn’t) shows a greater deference by the heterosexual majority to a once reviled minority. This isn’t in any way to suggest that people who identify as non-exclusively heterosexual have obtained complete social equality (for example, as of this writing, there are still at least twelve states where you can be fired from your job just for being gay, according to Wikipedia), the amount of social progress gained by gay people since the 1970s seems gargantuan.
When I was in high school in the 1970s, for example, the charge or suspicion of being gay was desperately to be avoided. If you were tagged as such, you were stigmatized and likely ostracized. A free-spirited friend of mine, who did not identify as gay and went to a different high school in a rather conservative town, was once suspected of being a lesbian and felt shunned by the other students. Things got so bad that her parents had to meet with the principle about it. The next year, she transferred to the high school I went to. I know that there are much worse stories out there, but that is the kind of situation an American high schooler wanted to avoid, no matter one’s sexual orientation.
|Me in high school|
Oh, I also hung out with the high-school theatre crowd. (Yeah, a number of people probably thought I was gay.) But in my circle of high-school friends, one did actually identified as gay. Another friend acted very flamboyant and liked a lot of pop culture that’s now thought of as stereotypically gay (he came out as gay in college). Perhaps for this reason, gayness wasn’t some amorphous, impalpable entity to be dreaded. Since I had a friend (or two) who was gay, the idea of “homosexuality” had a friendly face, not a face to be feared. Consequently, their sexual identities didn’t bother me, although a couple members of the group had some quiet qualms with the situation (again, this was the 1970s!).
But I wouldn’t call myself an especially strong ally of gay people when I was back in high school. I didn’t forcefully challenge the casual homophobic remark or joke — but neither did I join in in making them. In fact, the only time that I remember challenging a homophobic comment during my high-school years was when I was in the barber shop (yes, I did get my hair cut occasionally), and I heard the barber (who would later beam Fox News from his shop TV) and another customer discussing an apparently true story of two men who were recently discovered kissing in a nearby public place. One of the barber-shop denizens (I forget which one) remarked that if he had been the one who found them, he would have beaten them with a big steel pipe. Being the only other person in the shop, I objected to the two of them wanting to commit an act of violence against people just for being gay. “What would you do?” the barber asked. I didn’t really have an answer, so I just said, “Well, I wouldn’t beat them with a big steel pipe.” I was proud that I could stand up to two adults making such prejudicial remarks, but at the same time, I felt like I was taking my reputation in my hands by challenging a homophobic remark — I still didn’t want anyone to have the misperception that I was gay.
|My high-school self celebrating my birthday|
How times have changed since then!
Nowadays — despite a lack of absolute equality — being gay has gained a place in the mainstream, with corporate sponsors openly endorsing and underwriting gay events. People who identify as non-straight, even some celebrities, have proudly and publicly come out as such, with little of the blowback that would have doomed someone’s reputation of a generation before. Marriage equality is now the law of the land (something that I thought should have happened a long time ago), lifting many discriminatory barriers to gay equity. And gayness has lost its oppressive stigma; I probably wouldn’t have written a post like this two decades ago because I wouldn’t want someone thinking I’m gay. Now, being associated with gay people doesn’t automatically raise assumptions about one’s own sexuality, as it did years ago.
What was the post-Stonewall turning point? To my outsider’s eyes, the shift seemed to come about when life-or-death AIDS activism forced a number of people, especially gay men, out of the closet, and groups like ACT/UP confrontationally made the larger society recognize how deep-rooted — if not always perceived — its homophobia was, particularly when it came to the issue of the government being unconcerned with the AIDS pandemic. But from what I could tell, the really crucial moment of larger straight acceptance of gay people came when Rock Hudson died of AIDS-related causes in 1985. Up to that point, Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome was still seen as an almost exclusively “gay disease” that didn’t affect average Americans (or so they thought), but Hudson’s death from the disease (or to be exact, from an opportunistic infection brought about by the syndrome) put a well-known, relatable face to the illness, and people who once saw “homosexuality” as something of a “threat” now could see it as part of their own communities. Where before, well-known performers were discouraged by their handlers from taking gay roles for fear of being shunned, William Hurt’s acceptance of a gay role in Kiss of the Spider Woman (1985 — for which he would later win an Academy Award) marked a turning of the tide (but not completely, of course). Now, it seems as though every well-known star wants to play a gay/lesbian role. In other areas, we even have an openly gay politician who, at this moment, is among the top-tier candidates for the presidential nomination of a major party. Today, we even have a whole month to emphasize and recognize the contributions of non-gender-conforming people to our communities.
|Much has been done. Much remains to be done.|
But one word has come into popular parlance — at least within the LGBT+ community and its allies — that I’m uncomfortable with. That word is “queer.” I’m uncomfortable with that word because I can still remember it being used as invective and as a slur. Although I was never on the receiving end of such smack talk, the word still has the ring of hurtfulness to my outsider’s ears. Even though the “queer” people I know say that the word has been reclaimed by the community, especially by activist groups like Queer Nation, that word still has no positive connotations for me, and I prefer not to use it. But the fact that we’re even having such a conversation is a mark of the visibility and respect that LGBT+ people have gained over the decades.
No, things aren’t perfect, but they’re light years less oppressive then they were when I was a teenager in the 1970s wanting to avoid (but not in a desperately way) the stigma of anyone thinking I was gay. I’d like to think of myself as an ally, but whether anyone else thinks of me that way remains to be seen. And maybe those remaining barriers to absolute equality for gay people will fall one day as well. So, happy Pride Month to the LGBT+ folks out there. You’ve earned it.
Tuesday, June 11, 2019
Elizabeth Winkler has replied to the critics who severely — and correctly — panned her Atlantic piece putting forward the idea that the Elizabethan poet Emilia Bassano Lanier was the true author of the works attributed to William Shakespeare. It’s a reply that doubles-down on the defensibility of the Shakespeare authorship “question” and challenges the integrity of those Shakespeare specialists who took issue with the premise of her article: namely, that there’s legitimate uncertainty about the identity of the author of the plays and poems credited to Shakespeare. (Spoiler alert: There isn’t.) The people who hold this historical-denialist view are known collectively as anti-Stratfordians, after Shakespeare’s native town of Stratford-upon-Avon.
Winkler’s original article restates several anti-Stratfordian arguments, barely acknowledging the long-standing rebuttals to them by credentialed Shakespeare scholars. By doing so, Winkler argues for her belief in an anti-Stratfordian alternative to Shakespeare’s authorship, her belief that Emilia Bassano Lanier may have been the actual writer of Shakespeare’s works but had to hide her identity because of her gender. Winkler’s article is not a clearly imaginary reverie on the status of women in Renaissance England, in the spirit of Virginia Woolf’s meditation on a hypothetical sister of Shakespeare. Nor does Winkler expound on mainstream scholarship that speculates — and acknowledges itself as mere speculation — that perhaps Lanier (of Jewish Venetian ancestry) was the “Dark Lady” of Shakespeare’s sonnets or was involved in helping to create the Jewish Venetian characters in The Merchant of Venice.
Instead, Winkler posits a problem regarding the authorship of the works credited to Shakespeare, and while she doesn’t conclude that Lanier absolutely must have been the writer, Winkler at least offers the female Renaissance poet as a supposedly realistic contender to fill the purported vacuum that Shakespeare’s elimination as the author has created. In her reply to her critics, Winkler describes and defends the premise of her article as a “provocative inquiry,” but it’s more than that because her article is premised on a tendentious idea: that mainstream Shakespeare scholars have got it all wrong — and are struggling to keep it that way.
Winkler goes on:
Following the traditions of The Atlantic, I questioned uncritically held assumptions instead of treating pronouncements by authorities as truth. Consistent with journalistic duty, I distinguished academic opinion and received wisdom from fact as I explored terrain on which evidence has proved open to varying interpretation.
So, she presents the views of mainstream Shakespeare scholars as mere “pronouncements,” “academic opinion,” and “received wisdom,” as though these mainstream views had no evidence to back them up. But the First Folio of Shakespeare’s plays (official title: Mr. William Shakespeare’s Comedies, Histories, & Tragedies) is universally recognized and accepted as a powerful piece of proof. In this sizable book, six of his contemporaries — people who, outside documents strongly show, knew him in life — specifically identify “Mr. William Shakespeare,” the “sweet swan of Avon” with a “Stratford monument,” as the author of the dramatic works that bear his name.
None of the anti-Stratfordian claimants — the other personalities proposed by the Shakespeare deniers as the “real” authors of the works — have anything by their contemporaries so explicitly linking them to the Shakespeare canon. However, Winkler’s earlier article dismisses the First Folio as evidence. In this passage from that article, Winkler references the Folio’s introductory poems by playwright and Shakespeare friend Ben Jonson:
The Folio’s introductory effusions, [anti-Stratfordians] argue, contain double meanings. Jonson tells readers, for example, to find Shakespeare not in his portrait “but his Booke,” seeming to undercut the relation between the man and the work. And near the start of his over-the-top tribute, Jonson riffs on the unreliability of extravagant praise, “which doth ne’er advance/The truth.”
Winkler goes on to repeat anti-Stratfordian writer Diana Price’s oft-refuted canard that William Shakespeare of Stratford is missing the kind of literary paper trail that all of his contemporary poets can boast. Price says that there’s no evidence in the Stratford man’s lifetime of him being a writer, but this isn’t true. William Camden, one of the foremost antiquarians of the time, defended in private correspondence in 1602 the coat of arms for John Shakespeare (William’s father), the same coat of arms that the poet would inherit, noting that the elder Shakespeare was “a magistrate in Stratford-upon-Avon”; and later, in his book Remaines Concerning Britain (1605), Camden referred to “William Shakespeare” as a “poet” and as one of the “most pregnant wits of these our times.” Logically, Camden knew Shakespeare both as a writer and as a denizen of Stratford.
|The passage in William Camden’s book ‘Remaines Concerning Britain’ (1605) mentioning William Shakespeare as a poet. Camden had elsewhere defended the coat of arms for Shakespeare’s Stratford-dwelling father.|
There is also documentation of payment for an impresa “to Mr. Shakespeare.” James Shapiro describes an impresa as “a painted and ceremonial pasteboard shield on which an enigmatic saying, usually in Latin, was written” (Contested Will: Who Wrote Shakespeare?, pp. 230-31). Further payment was made to Richard Burbage, the actor and associate of William Shakespeare, for the same impresa’s visual design. Anti-Stratfordians dismiss this evidence as referring to another “Mr. Shakespeare,” but they haven’t proven the existence of such a person or why he too would be associated with William Shakespeare’s star actor.
In her reply, Winkler quarrelsomely continues:
In their often vitriolic zeal to condemn me for nonadherence to their position, some critics have misconstrued my careful formulations and denounced my endeavor as “conspiracism.” More troubling still, they’ve missed my very point of departure — that a woman writing under another’s name isn’t conspiracism; it’s a literary practice that we know has gone on for much of history.
She locates the Shakespeare scholars’ charge of “conspiracism” in her article’s premise regarding women writers of eras past. This is an argument made in bad faith. The charge of conspiracism comes elsewhere: in her dismissal of the evidence supporting Shakespeare. If the First Folio, for example, is not to be trusted as proof of Shakespeare’s authorship, then its introductory writings ostensibly attributing the plays to William of Stratford must not be telling the truth. Why would these writings not tell the truth? Winkler doesn’t explicitly say, but her strong implication is that Folio’s first pages are a cover-up of Lanier’s (or some other anti-Stratfordian claimant’s) authorship. But hardly any mainstream Shakespearean scholar would agree with Winkler’s interpretation of the Folio’s texts as deceptive. In Jonson’s personal documents, unpublished during his lifetime, he wrote: “I loved the man [i.e., William Shakespeare] and do honour his memory, on this side idolatry, as much as any.” Why Jonson would want to continue the cover-up in his private, personal writings has never been convincingly explained by any anti-Stratfordians.
As I said before, Winkler in her earlier Atlantic article presented herself as a open-minded journalist, but she has now been discovered to be a categorical anti-Stratfordian who has spoken at anti-Stratfordian events. As if to confirm this, Winkler’s reply to the criticisms of her article show the hallmarks of Shakespeare denialism: a distrust of mainstream Shakespeare scholarship, a belief that mainstream Shakespeare scholars (her first article accused them of having “a dogmatism of their own”) have nothing to support their views, and a belief (however tacitly expressed) that the documents supporting Shakespeare’s authorship are fraudulent. The fact that her article sees the First Folio primarily as evidence against William of Stratford’s authorship, rather than as a confirmation of it, tips her hand.
If Winkler were truly an open-minded journalist, she would have asked an obvious question: Exactly how were the works of a ghost writer passed off as Shakespeare’s, and what is the hard evidence for this? All anti-Stratfordian scenarios hinge on a clandestine conspiracy to substitute the Stratford man for the claimant, but few anti-Stratfordians seem intent on proving the subterfuge’s existence. To quote James Shapiro again:
There’s little agreement and less detail about this conspiracy, despite how much depends on it, so it’s not an easy argument to challenge. Some suppose that only Shakespeare and the author were in the know. At the other extreme are those who believe it was an open secret, so widely shared that it wasn’t worth mentioning. (Contested Will, p. 225, emphasis added)
A true journalist would have risen to the challenge and set about examining the evidence for the conspiracy — if any — before adding the name of another anti-Stratfordian claimant to join the 86 others. The fact that Winkler just assumed the conspiracy’s existence, rather than questioning the problematic concept, is another dead giveaway of her anti-Stratfordian leanings.
To their credit, the editors of The Atlantic have published five articles in response to Winkler’s, including one by Shapiro who plainly and accurately says that Winkler was indulging in a conspiracy theory. The editors also link to an especially severe critique by Times of London critic Oliver Kamm, who writes: “Winkler’s article…is a farrago that should never have been conceived, pitched, commissioned or published.” (Winkler’s reply, portraying herself as the scrappy underdog, takes none of Kamm’s valid criticisms into account.)
However, the editors’ response to the blowback has additionally been to semi-defend Winkler’s article as merely part of a “discussion” that needs “broadening”; they say that “her goal was to highlight rich new perspectives on the plays and the female voices within them.” This is a praiseworthy objective, but she could have done that without raising the discredited Shakespeare authorship question and spuriously portraying it as a well-founded field of study. I wonder if The Atlantic’s editors are anti-Stratfordians themselves.
Winkler speaking at an anti-Stratfordian event in 2018
Tuesday, May 28, 2019
Sunday, May 19, 2019
|William Shakespeare and Emilia Bassano Lanier|
Not long ago, the venerable publication The Atlantic, whose founders include Ralph Waldo Emerson and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, lent its imprimatur to an article questioning William Shakespeare’s authorship of the works attributed to him, a view known as anti- (or non-) Stratfordianism. Its adherents say that William Shakespeare of Stratford-upon-Avon wasn’t educated enough (he dropped out of grammar school and never attended university) and didn’t have the life experiences necessary to write the inspired plays and poems that bear his name. Anti-Stratfordians claim that someone of a noble background or university education must have written the works instead. This outlier view insists that the better educated and experienced writer needed to hide his identity, so he used Shakespeare as a front man. Proposed alternate authors have included Francis Bacon, Christopher Marlowe, and Edward de Vere.
Anti-Stratfordianism is a fringe conspiracy theory that has been debunked time and time again, but its adherents keep reviving it, while presenting no compelling new evidence for credentialed scholars to reconsider the proposition. Why? In part, because many anti-Stratfordians believe that the “orthodox” (i.e., mainstream) Shakespeare experts have a vested interest in maintaining the status quo and are deaf to any new proposals. So, anti-Stratfordians constantly tell each other to be very skeptical of what mainstream scholars say — but what they say takes into account a vast amount of historical evidence confirming that William Shakespeare of Stratford-upon-Avon wrote the works attributed to him.
The Atlantic article, “Was Shakespeare Really a Woman?” by Elizabeth Winkler, puts forward a relatively new anti-Stratfordian candidate as the one who really wrote the Bard’s words: Emilia Bassano Lanier. Born to a Venetian immigrant of Jewish background, Lanier (her married name) had earlier been the subject of some Shakespearian speculation as the possible “Dark Lady” of Shakespeare’s sonnets — or the even more conjectural idea that she, drawing upon her possible knowledge of Venice and Judaism, advised him on the Venetian Jewish characters of The Merchant of Venice. But while her plausible association with Shakespeare is speculative, it’s an agreed-upon historical fact that she, as Wikipedia puts it, “was the first Englishwoman to assert herself as a professional poet, through a single volume of poems, Salve Deus Rex Judaeorum (1611).” As others have pointed out, Lanier’s published poetry bears very little resemblance to Shakespeare’s.
But why add yet another anti-Stratfordian candidate when there are dozens of others, none of whom boasts any compelling evidence to be credibly credited as the pen behind Shakespeare’s words? That is a subject that’s been on my mind because I’m not convinced that the question “Who really wrote Shakespeare?” is a worthwhile pondering in the first place. In order to pull off a successful subterfuge (i.e., conspiracy) to hide the purportedly “true” author’s identity and elevate an alleged front man (supposedly Shakespeare) in the role, and to have the deception last for centuries, it would require a fortuitous convergence of events that would be unlikely in the extreme. For this reason, I think that anti-Stratfordians ought to prove the probability of this kind of plot before they start adding potential candidates to the long list — or, for that matter, before they continue questioning Shakespeare’s legitimacy.
Most Shakespeare denialism is built on the fallacy of the argument from personal incredulity: I personally don’t believe that the author of the canon would have done such-and-such; therefore, the author of the canon must not have done such-and-such. One example is: The author of the plays and poems wouldn’t have allowed his daughters to be illiterate. First of all, there’s no consensus that Shakespeare’s daughters were literate or not. But even if they were illiterate, that wouldn’t prove that Shakespeare wasn’t the author. It took extra effort to educate daughters in Elizabethan times, and Shakespeare being away from his Stratford family, apparently spending most of his hours in relatively distant (at the time) London, may very well not have been in a position to expend the additional energy to teach his daughters to read and write. So, the literacy or illiteracy of the Stratford man’s daughters has no bearing on whether he wrote the works or not. The Marlovians out there, namely the ones who believe that playwright Christopher Marlowe (1564-1593) wrote the works, have the triple burden of not only (1) proving that the conspiracy actually happened, but also — in accordance with the usual Marlovian narrative — (2) proving that his death was faked and (3) proving that he was able to spirit his plays from Italy to London without being detected. So far, Marlovians have proven none of these extraordinary events.
In her article, Winkler presented herself as an open-minded journalist, but since it received such a negative reaction among Shakespeare scholars and aficionados better versed in history, she has revealed herself to be a full-fledged anti-Stratfordian, giving more weight to debunked contrarian writings than to peer-reviewed Shakespeare studies. Indeed, it’s been revealed that some of her in-depth interviews with mainstream Shakespeare scholars didn’t make it into her article, while more dubious assertions did (e.g., that the authorship question is as old as the plays themselves, when in fact, it only fully emerged in the mid-19th century). Furthermore, Snopes back in 2015 looked into the question of whether Lanier wrote Shakespeare, in an article easily found on an Internet search, and concluded that she didn’t. Winkler doesn’t take this Snopes piece into account. In fact, rather than engage fully with her article’s critics, Winkler has merely linked some historically dubious anti-Stratfordian materials to her Twitter profile. The unrepentant Winkler appears uninterested in what the “orthodox” historians say in response to her article — like a good little conspiracy theorist.
Winkler’s article has already been debunked many times over by Shakespearians more knowledgeable that I am, so I won’t add to the pile-on. But I will say that I’m sorry to see such a well-respected magazine as The Atlantic publish an ostensibly poorly researched, propagandistic article under the pretense of objective journalism. And I think that associating Emilia Bassano Lanier with a conspiracy theory diminishes her very real accomplishment as a pioneering poet in Renaissance England.
Saturday, April 27, 2019
Saturday, April 13, 2019
(Make the room bigger!)
Workmen, lift high the roof’s wooden beams!
All praise the God of Weddings!
Here comes the bridegroom with wood of his own!
All praise the God of Weddings!
It’s bigger than a man! It’s as big as the God of War!
(Can the groom fit it through the doorway? We may need to make that bigger, too!)
Workmen, lift high the roof’s wooden beams!
All praise the God of Weddings!
Here comes the bridegroom with wood of his own!
All praise the God of Weddings!
It’s bigger than a man! It’s as big as the God of War!
(Can the groom fit it through the doorway? We may need to make that bigger, too!)
Thursday, April 11, 2019
Wednesday, April 3, 2019
Sunday, March 17, 2019
Saturday, March 16, 2019
Saturday, February 23, 2019
As co-host of her television show The View, Meghan McCain was quoted this past week as saying:
“The thing I will say about [Bernie Sanders] is don’t underestimate him,” the View co-host said Tuesday, citing his 2016 sweep of New Hampshire and his success in taking nearly half of Iowa — the first two primary states, which will be important targets for candidates.
“This time there are no superdelegates to come against him at the convention like what happened before,” McCain added, referring to the Democratic National Committee’s rule change last year that stripped superdelegates of much of their power in deciding the party’s nominee.
|I dunno. Maybe the fact that Trump won?|
But Kurt Eichenwald in his Newsweek article has thoroughly debunked the misapprehension that the Democratic primary was somehow rigged against Sanders. Clinton won the Democratic nomination because she won the clear majority of votes in the primary, and there is no evidence that she came by those votes unethically. Furthermore, her margin of victory was comfortable and did not require the superdelegates to clinch the nomination. The Democratic National Committee e-mails, that were apparently stolen by anti-Hillary forces and dumped to counter the emergence of the embarrassing Access Hollywood tape of Trump boasting about assaulting women, contained some tasteless phrasing by DNC subordinates about Sanders and evinced a clear preference for Clinton (the actual Democrat) in the contest, but they did not reveal a primary process that intentionally disadvantaged Sanders.
A legitimate criticism of Hillary Clinton’s candidacy is how it began. The party’s major donors and the Democratic Party leadership virtually anointed Clinton as the Democratic standard-bearer, financially and institutionally discouraging any other major candidates, such as Vice President Joe Biden, from running against her. So, the genesis of the Clinton campaign suggests some collusion on the part of the Democratic Party’s major players to clear a path for her so that she could run in the primaries all but unopposed, and this betrays a Democratic primary that was not as democratic as it ought to have been. To this day, Clinton critics take this anointing a step further and say the Democratic Party’s favoring of her at the primary’s early stages involved coercion to compel other major candidates not to run, but there is no credible evidence of this. Furthermore, as Ezra Klein points out, Clinton’s cleared path provided an opening for Sanders to run as the most conspicuous alternative to her, an opening that he dexterously seized. So, any Democratic Party collusion at the start of Clinton’s campaign worked in Sanders’ favor, not against it. However, once the initial voting got underway, “the overall 2016 primary process was fair,” in the words of Senator Elizabeth Warren, who once agreed that the primary had been rigged but then backtracked (see the Klein article).
Still, given the acrimony over the results of the 2016 presidential election and the severe dislike of Hillary Clinton in some quarters of the liberal left, I suspect that the misapprehension of how the vote went down will harden into doctrine. The idea that the 2016 Democratic primary was rigged against Sanders might become one more “fact” that never really happened.
Saturday, February 9, 2019
Tuesday, February 5, 2019
Friday, January 4, 2019
What’s more important than Fu Manchu’s omnipresence, though, is his effect. [Sax] Rohmer was writing while completely ignorant about Chinese people and culture, for an audience equally ignorant, and played on xenophobic fears to create his villain. He depicted the tiny Chinese section of London’s Limehouse district as a nest of vice when those two blocks were in fact some of the most law-abiding in the city during the World War I and interwar periods. Anti-Chinese and anti-Asian sentiment had been prevalent in the West since the late 19th century (see, for example, the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882, which prohibited the immigration of Chinese laborers to the U.S., and the earlier Page Act of 1875, which prohibited “undesirable” immigrants but in practice mostly barred entry to Chinese women in order to prevent Chinese population growth), but Rohmer’s creation shamelessly stoked the fires of those fears, portraying the East as sinister, unknowable, and ever-encroaching.
Read the full article.