Note to self

Let this be a lesson to you. Never, ever read anything in the Times Style section.

Even their articles about supposedly nice, accessible people are incomparably annoying.

Wheeeeeeeeee!!!

Oh, God bless Sean Hannity. I was having a hard time thinking of something to say before I read this:

During their appearance on Sean Hannity's TV show last night, former Gov. Sarah Palin (R-AK) and Rep. Michele Bachmann (R-MN) were asked whether either of them were considering a run for the presidency in 2012 -- and whether they might run together as a ticket.

"Are either one of you considering a run for the presidency in 2012?" Hannity asked the two. "I'm just asking. Gov. Palin, I'll start with you -- but before I get their answers, how many of you would like to see a Palin-Bachmann ticket?"

The live audience from the Minnesota Republican Party rally that day roared in applause and cheering at this idea. "Well that sounds kind of cool," said Palin.

Cool in a "hell freezes over" kind of way, I suppose.

One thing I will say about Michele Bachmann, she manages to make Sarah Palin look downright statesmanlike.

Bachmann said: "Well, I just -- I want to thank Gov. Palin for breaking the barrier by being a woman as the vice president on the ticket. She did a wonderful job, I think, as the vice presidential candidate. And I think the world is her oyster. If she wants to run, I think that she has tremendous support from the American people."

Rrrrrrrrrrrrrright.

Gov. Palin has proven that being able to discuss just about anything coherently is no longer a prerequisite for being on the GOP's national ticket. However, it probably doesn't bode well for Rep. Bachmann's veep chances that she doesn't remember American history from her own lifetime. This regrettable level of political acumen is probably responsible for her poor understanding of what is meant by "tremendous support," given former governor Palin's actual approval ratings.

Well, sign me up

Politico has an unflattering article about the Young Eagles program, which was designed to attract young donors to the GOP and which has come under fire lately following revelations that the GOP was billed for a trip to a bondage-themed lesbian club by several members. The whole thing has redounded to Michael Steele's discredit, though for once I think the guy's getting a raw deal.

For what it's worth, I couldn't possibly care less if a bunch of young(-ish) Republican types felt like getting their jollies by going to some kinky venue in LA. Heck, maybe it'll help the GOP care less about how I get mine, in the long run, and the world will be a happier, more tolerant place. On the other hand, I've never given one thin dime to the RNC, so it's not my money they were spending on whatever it is one spends money on at such clubs.

The article focuses primarily on whether or not the program is a good investment for the GOP (and it looks like "no"), but that's not what really struck me. What caught my attention is that the program seems kind of... lame:

“We do events that a specific demographic will like, so it will love us and give us money and vote for us,” said David Norcross, a former RNC general counsel and current committeeman who was briefed by Steele on the RNC’s plan to revamp its reimbursement and expense-approval process for all programs in the wake of the controversy.

“And, when you’re dealing with young people, it’s probably a good idea to go off the beaten track a little bit and do things you think they might like.” Norcross said. “Just because a couple of mistakes have been made, doesn’t mean you don’t want to continue being progressively forward looking. Why should we of all parties do old stodgy stuff?”

One could mention that the nickname for the Republicans is the Grand Old Party, which doesn't necessarily bring to mind a hip, happenin' crowd, but that's not really the point. Is this how the GOP hopes to get people to support it? This "specific demographic" won't love the party, donate to it or support it if it doesn't have fun?

I understand the need to cultivate a new generation of donors, but I also think it's telling that apparently the donors in question need to be cajoled into supporting the party. I mean, the quote makes it seem like these guys can't be counted on to even vote for the GOP unless the parties are numerous and varied. And then there's this:

The Young Eagles are “a fun group,” the former member said. “If you’ve got a little insecurity complex, but you’ve got money — what a cool group to hang out with.”

Oh... dear. That sounds a bit more personally revealing than was probably intended at the time. I imagine that most of us have our moments of insecurity, and it would be genuinely hypocritical and mean of me to mock these people for simply being vulnerable human beings like everyone else. But neither is it a rousing endorsement of a donor cultivation program if a former member all but concedes that its members joined because they wanted to feel cool. This makes me sad, and brings back unwelcome memories of 7th grade.

Again, I don't have a dog in this hunt. I don't really care how the Republicans spend their money, and frankly I'd just as soon have them blow it in West Hollywood than on helping lunatics in their pursuit of higher office. But this whole thing is a PR disaster, and not just because it's a waste of money.

Where's Jonathan Swift when you need him?

A perfectly silly argument, that runs basically thus: if you really, really care about climate change -- please, have no more children. People cause climate change, so stop making more people. Get zero carbon footprint instead of little baby footprints. (h/t Andrew Sullivan)

The author proudly asserts that she won't have children, because she's not so selfish as to rape Planet Earth that way. (There are indeed other reasons that she is satisfied with her childless life, but the emphasis is on the green.)

She asks, "Why does it feel almost audacious to articulate all of this?" Answer: probably because it's silly. I can think of another way to reduce your carbon footprint all the way to zero: suicide!

And maybe, just maybe, the intrinsic value of a human being, or the other goods such a being might bring about, could (possibly, perchance) outweigh even something so heinous as 9,441 metric tons of CO2. Or (conceivably, peradventure) the average carbon footprint per person may be reduced in years to come. One little tyke might one day even invent a form of cleaner energy!

Philosophy v. the Humanities

Jump up and shout and say hallelujah if you are one of the myriad millions who care about the internecine academic battles between philosophy and the other humanities!

(Crickets.)

Okay, fine. Not as thrilling as March Madness. But here's the deal. Philosophy in the U.S. and England is, in general, quite isolated from the other humanities. We each think what the other does is BS. But we (that is, philosophers) are right.

It is quite sad, however, that there is very little dialogue between the disciplines. When other humanities folks rely on philosophers for support for their work, they tend to be philosophers not at all highly regarded within philosophy. Greater understanding might make everyone's work better.

Not only that, philosophers tend to lose out on humanities funding because it is awarded by people in other humanities. Also a shame.

Jason Stanley has a nice defense of the purpose of philosophy in today's world. Not exactly the one I'd write, but definitely worth a read and on the right track.

Dept. of Meh

I will probably not spend much of this evening watching the last game of the NCAA basketball tournament. I'm not a big sports fan in general, with the exception of Grand Slam tennis. I find baseball and football enjoyable enough, though I don't make a point of watching either. But basketball leaves me cold.

However, in so far as I am rooting for one team tonight, I will be rooting for Butler. Partly because it's great when the underdog wins. Partly because my old pal and fishing buddy Brian went there. Partly because their coach is really, really cute. But mainly because one of my more troublesome exes went to law school at Duke.

Anyhow, my cred when it comes to college athletics is pretty damn thin. On the other hand, I think my attentiveness to gay rights issues is par excellence. And I was singularly unmoved by Seyward Darby's article about Duke haters and homophobia.

[T]here's one major problem with the neat morality play that left-leaning Duke haters have constructed for themselves: the jarring and disproportionate level of homophobia that routinely gets directed at the basketball players. There's the classic "This is Why Duke Sucks" YouTube video that has received more than 1.6 million hits--and boasts lyrics about one Duke player being a "bitch" and another having a "dude's face all on [his] balls." Or the more recent (and explicit) video, "Greg Paulus--'I Kissed a Boy,'" which mocks Duke's senior guard for, among other things, enjoying the taste of men's sweat. Or another video about Paulus ("Tea Bag: A Greg Paulus Tribute"), posted by user TarHeel32Blue, which shows several clips of the guard near or between the legs of other players.

[snip]

[J]ust last week, when the website canigetaverdict2.com asked, "Who's The Most Annoying Duke Basketball Player of Alltime," one user declared Christian Laettner, who played for Duke in the early '90s, "annoying, overrated, homosexual, and white."

I remember the rumor that Laettner was gay way back when. (At the time, hearing this had the unintended effect of making me a surreptitious Christian Laettner fan.) And I'm not disputing that many Duke detractors use homophobic rhetoric in their mockery of the school's athletes, though YouTube vidoes and random comments do not a movement make.

However, I don't really think Darby makes his case that this is specific to Duke. I think if there were another particularly imposing school in Duke's place, its players would get similar treatment. Sports culture is rife with macho posturing and homophobia, and plenty of other players from prominent schools have gotten similar treatment.

Would I like to see the homophobia abate? You bet. Do I think Duke has it particularly bad? Nah. Do I hope they lose? Go Butler.

2666: the end of the Part About the Crimes

You know the best thing about the Part About the Crimes?

It ends.

Way back at the very beginning of this book, I came across the phrase "the briefest crystallized vomitings," used to describe a conversation between raindrops and the earth (page 9). I wondered about that phrase. I pondered what it could mean. I cared.

I mention this to highlight the contrast with the mirthless internal laughter I felt welling up when I came to these words on page 579 (italics in the original):

Then he took a breath, as if he were about to tell a long story, and Chuy Pimentel chose that moment to take a picture of him. In it, because of the light and the angle, Haas looks much thinner, his neck long like a turkey's, though not just any turkey but a singing turkey or a turkey about to break into song, not just sing, but break into song, a piercing song, a grating song, a song of shattered glass, but of glass bearing a strong resemblance to crystal, that is, to purity, to self-abnegation, to a total lack of deceitfulness.

A passage like this requires a certain indulgence on the part of the reader. A reader must be willing to look at sentences like those and think to himself, "I'm sure there is something in there worth deciphering. I'm going to think about it and come up with an answer." It requires a certain investment, a certain good will toward the author.

I read that passage, thought to myself "turkey is about right," and concluded that it doesn't make a lick of sense. The italicized break into song was particularly irritating, and made me want to throw the book across the room.

My tallied good will toward this author is around about nil. Having spent much of the book being drawn inexorably toward Santa Teresa and now finally on the other side of the Crimes, I am utterly disinclined to grant him whatever time would be required to come up with a plausible interpretation of his obscure metaphors, no matter how poetically formulated. At this point, after reading about torture and rape and murder and mutilation, not to mention misogyny and homophobia and judicial ineptitude, I am resting gently on the conclusion that Bolaño wrote about the Juarez murders because he just wanted to find the most horrible thing he could and base a book on it. I find him ghoulish and calculating and a world away from all the lovely things critics have inexplicably said about him.

No good will. At all.

However, there's one Part to go. So I'm going to still my fingers here. Before I chuck this book into the nearest bin and go completely off the rails ranting about it, I'll see how it ends. My opinions has nowhere to go but up.