Thoughts On The End of 2010

I may start doing this every year.  I’ve been trying to write some posts about some of the more recent events in politics, but I keep following my arguments into a kind of WTF cul-de-sac.  Watching the last four months has been amazing.  Not in a good way.  Just dumbfounding by any measure.  So maybe it will work better if I just do a summary of my impressions of what has happened this past year.

I think I’ll say little about my personal situation.  It is what it is.  Like many people, the upside is hard to find.  To reiterate what I said a couple posts back, though, I am not in dire straits.  Uncomfortable, but not desperate.

I should remark on the Lame Duck Congress Marathon of Epic Legislation.  I can’t help being impressed.  Obama said he wanted Congress to do with Don’t Ask Don’t Tell, to repeal it legislatively, and not have it end up as a court-mandated order.  I can understand this, especially given the rightward shift of the judiciary.  But the way in which he went about it seemed doomed and certainly angered a lot of people who thought he was breaking a campaign promise.  (The puzzling lunacy of his own justice department challenging a court-led effort must have looked like one more instance of Obama backing off from what he’d said he was going to do.)  I am a bit astonished that he got his way.

A great deal of the apparent confusion over Obama’s actions could stem from his seeming insistence that Congress do the heavy lifting for much of his agenda.  And while there’s a lot to be said for going this route, what’s troubling is his failure to effectively use the bully pulpit in his own causes.  And the fact that he has fallen short on much.   It would be, perhaps, reassuring to think that his strategy is something well-considered, that things the public knows little about will come to fruition by, say, his second term.

(Will he have a second term?  Unless Republicans can front someone with more brains and less novelty than a Sarah Palin and more weight than a Mitt Romney, probably.  I have seen no one among the GOP ranks who looks even remotely electable.  The thing that might snuff Obama’s chances would be a challenge from the Democrats themselves, but that would require a show of conviction the party has been unwilling overall to muster.)

The Crash of 2008 caused a panic of identity.  Unemployment had been creeping upward prior to that due to a number of factors, not least of which is the chronic outsourcing that has become, hand-in-glove, as derided a practice as CEO compensation packages and “golden parachutes,” and just as protected in practice by a persistent nostalgia that refuses to consider practical solutions that might result in actual interventions in the way we do business.  No one wants the jobs to go overseas but no one wants to impose protectionist policies on companies that outsource.  Just as no one likes the fact that top management is absurdly paid for jobs apparently done better 40 years ago by people drawing a tenth the amount, but no one wants to impose corrective policies that might curtail what amounts to corporate pillage.  It is the nostalgia for an America everyone believes once existed that functioned by the good will of its custodians and did not require laws to force people to do the morally right thing.  After a couple decades of hearing the refrain “You can’t legislate morality” it has finally sunk in but for the wrong segment of social practice.

I don’t believe the country was ever run by people of significantly higher moral purpose.  There have always been two courts along those lines, one comprised of those who know how to aggressively and successfully capitalize and those who set policy and take care of the interests of those who are not so inclined or skilled at the art of fiscal rape.  The business sector, while it would like to see itself as made up of morally-inclined people, has always been willing to greater or lesser degrees to ignore moral principle if it became too costly.  They were blocked in practice by those in the other camp, who were able to do what they did because the country, frankly, was flush enough to afford principles.

That’s the story, anyway.  A bit facile, though there are elements of truth in it.  One thing the Left has always been a bit chary of admitting is how big a role affluence plays in the policies it would prefer to see in place.  One of the reasons communism always fails historically (just one—I stipulate that there are many reasons communism fails) is that it emerges victorious in poor countries that simply can’t sustain it in any “pure” form.  (Russia included.  While Russia may be materially rich in resources and potential, it was poorly run, horribly inefficient at any kind of wide distribution, and structurally backward.  Marx, for his part, believed Russia one of the worst places to start his “workers’ revolution.”  He preferred Germany and, yes, the United States.)  This may be why we are so reflexively frightened of communism and its cousin, socialism—all the examples of it we have seen in practice are examples of destitute people, a destroyed middle class and elite stripped of all the material prosperity we value, replaced by a cadre of comfortable bureaucrats.  (It suggests that communism is an unlikely system for “raising” standards of living, but might be applicable once a certain level is achieved.  This presumes, of course, the other problems with it are solvable.)

At a gathering recently, amid the conversation about all the other ills of the planet, I heard the declaration (again) that we are in a post capitalist world.  And I thought (and subsequently said),  no, we’re not.  Because its natural successor has not emerged.  We’re right in the middle of a capitalist world.

The economic history of the 20th Century can be summed up as a contest between two ideas—collectivism and capitalism.  Around the fringes of both systems, hybrids developed.  It became clear in the 1930s that capitalism is deeply flawed and requires management, not of the sort supposedly provided by The Market, but of the sort provided by an enlightened social structure that can put the brakes on excesses.  Communism, it can be equally argued, gave up on any attempt to institute Marxist methodology, opting for a form of autocratic collectivism that lumbered along like a drunk troll for most of the century, never achieving much of anything for the so-called Masses.  If the best one could say of the Soviet Union through all that time was that the people were better off than they had been under the Czars, that frankly isn’t saying much.  While true, it begs the question why it couldn’t do better than the West.

It could also be argued that during the period between 1930 and the eventual collapse of the Soviet Union, we managed our system in such a way as to guarantee a viable counterexample to the soviet system.  Which meant a growing, prospering middle class and progressively more inclusive social justice.  Civil Rights progressed as much from the self-evident morality of its assertions as from a profoundly uncomfortable recognition that apartheid systems are too easily compared to what happened in Nazi Germany and continued at a lower activity throughout the world to any and all minority groups.  To show ourselves superior to Them, we couldn’t countenance separate but equal nonsense, so there was movement on both extremes—the street and the halls of power.

With the end of the Soviet Union, there was a sharp understanding (valid or not) that on some level “we” had won.  Our system proved superior.  We were “better” than they were, at least ideologically.

Which apparently for a certain sector meant we could stop fooling around with all these hybrid systems that utilized partial socialist controls and put roadblocks in the way of capitalist excess.  Victory meant the aspect that seemed to make us superior would work even better if we stopped pretending we needed regulations.  If the rest of the world would just adopt our system, everyone would be better off.  We shouldn’t confuse the issue with concessions to non-capitalist ideas.

(You can kind of see this in the Reagan years.  It’s obvious in hindsight with the increased spending in military R & D and the 600 ship navy and the development of other technologies under DoD auspices, that the Reagan philosophy—tactic, I should say—was to spend the bastards into penury.  There is ample evidence that this is exactly what happened.  We forced the Soviet Union to respond with their own increased spending, and this exposed their systemic weakness.  While our military spending has rarely gotten anywhere near 10% of GDP, the Soviet Union was never under it.  Indeed, toward the end, they were spending more than 30% of GDP on the military, a crushing burden, wholly unsustainable.  When all their best tech was brushed aside in the first Iraq War, it must have demoralized them profoundly.  The collapse came shortly thereafter.)

Since Reagan we have seen a consistent, grinding war on anything that does not support a strictly market-based capitalist methodology.  It has now reached the point where we seem to be cannibalizing our own efforts at social justice in order to fuel an expanding private sector frenzy for…

For what?  An expanding private sector frenzy for an expanding private sector?  Acquisitiveness for the sake of acquisitiveness?  It appears sometimes that we are laying up stores of wealth as if preparing for a siege.  But a siege against what?

There are (arguably) two things that have made the United States a model to be emulated.  Aside from all the other ideas that inform our sense of national identity, two concrete notions have been at the heart of our success as a country.  The first is an idea of social equality.  In spite of the suspicions many of the Founders had toward the masses, they embraced a basic belief that individuals are not innately better or worse than each other.  This was, of course, an Enlightenment-inspired denial of aristocracies, that birth plays no part in individual merit.  Even though this idea was unevenly applied and took couple of centuries to manifest for a majority, it was there from the beginning.  The people had to live up to the idea, which is usually how such things transpire.  It was a powerful idea and would have come to little if not for the second idea, which is that we are entitled to be safe in our property.  That no one may take what we legally possess away arbitrarily and we have a right to defend our belongings in court and by legislation.  This has allowed for the eventual development of a large and politically powerful middle class which, to greater or lesser degrees, is socially porous, largely because of the first idea.  (Even in the worst days of segregation there have been wealthy blacks, and often in sufficient numbers to constitute a parallel middle class and entrepreneurial resource.)

In fits and starts, this has worked well for us over two hundred plus years.  Not without cost, though.  Such as those times when the two ideas turn on each other and conflict.

This has not been the only period when that has happened.  Our history is strewn with the corpses of such conflicts.  We have see-sawed back and forth between them.  Usually the property side of the conflict wins.  When the equality side wins, though, the gains are amazing.

So what about 2010?

It would seem to be a mixed bag, tilted (naturally) toward the property side.  But then the last-minute repeal of Don’t Ask Don’t Tell would seem to be a check in the justice column.  Overall, the deployment of forces seem clear enough, and the skirmishes have taken tolls on both sides. But what’s the goal?  What, in the parlance of wartime diplomats and theorists, does victory look like?

Globalization has brought about a fundamental shift in corporate culture, at least in the United States, which has made explicit what had always been potential and implicit at a certain level, namely that capitalist endeavor is not patriotic.  The foregoing of as much profit as possible is not consistent with nationalist sympathies and although I’m sure many an entrepreneur would like to think otherwise, the track record since Reagan has been clearly in the other direction.  The outsourcing of American jobs alone should serve as example for this.

What has risen in place of substantial people doing the right thing for their country even if it costs them is a severe kind of quasi-religious patriotic substitute which at base serves to tell those who are paying the cost of this fact that it is their  patriotic duty to “man up” and live with it and to vote largely against their own self-interest in order to preserve a distorted idea of Americanism.  We have seen a resurgence of a social Darwinism that was never valid and lost ground during the heyday of middle class enlightenment in the post World War II booms.  The G.I. Bill underwrote a massive educational effort that gave people who never before had access the intellectual tools to recognize nonsense when they saw it and act against the norm, pushing back at the major corporations and a business ethic that required servitude rather than equitable participation on the part of the labor force.  Two things have worked to undo those gains.  The first was the matriculation of those very middle class successes into the positions of power that traditionally would have kept them out and over time they have become the people they once worked against.  The other has been a severe and consistent gutting of liberal education.

At the aforementioned party there were gathered a number of academics.  I heard a lot of complaining about cutbacks and one in particular was going on about how her department was under siege.  One need not look far to see that universities and colleges are all scrambling for funding and a lot of what seems to be on the chopping block are courses that fall under the classical liberal arts.  If the course is not geared toward making a buck for the student immediately upon graduation, the sentiment seems to run, then what good is it?

But it’s not just that.  Even legislatively we have seen assaults on the sciences.  The most recent is this from Oklahoma.  State Senator Josh Brecheen has introduced legislation to force Creationism to be taught in public schools, claiming that in the interest of teaching science “fully” all viewpoints should be taught or both should be removed.  This is hardly the first of these, nor will it be the last, but it shows a clear trend that is profoundly anti-intellectual, consistent with a tradition is America that derides education and promotes a faith-based approach to the world.  By faith-based I do not mean necessarily religious, although that is certainly a large part of it.  No, I mean a kind of fatalistic nationalism that suggests that simply because we are who we are we need nothing more.  Americans are just naturally superior.  In this model, education—too much education—erodes that essential nature and renders us susceptible to all manner of non-American ideas.

There is a fundamental idiocy in this attitude.  It also seems counter to every other aspect of essential Americanism, basically that one never settles, that more is always preferable, that excess is the basis for sufficiency.  How does less education square with any of this?

Back in the heyday of the great Red Scares, a political tactic evolved that equated intellectualism—mainly academic intellectualism—with Marxism and thus rendered learning suspect.  Certainly learning has a leftist character, Liberalism being an apparent property of education.  While this is not true in the specific (I defy anyone to make the case that William F. Buckley was uneducated, anti-intellectual, or even provincial), it does seem that the Right is represented by a less-than-stellar cadre of the intellectually challenged.  The spokespeople for the Tea Party are a singularly deficient lot, not least of which is Sarah Palin, who manages to declare her contempt for the intellect every time she makes an utterance.  The majority of frontline assailants on education are all self-styled conservatives and the debacle of school board absurdities and text book crisis sometimes seems to spring wholly from Texas and its consistent statements of solidarity with grassroots stupidity.

It is more difficult to generalize when one knows more about a subject.  Ignorance is the benefactor of bigotry, stereotyping, and ideological myopia.  To preserve their hegemony over what they perceive as the true American landscape, it behooves the Right to curtail education wherever possible.

Why?  How does this make any kind of sense?

It makes sense in exactly the same way that the marrow-deep rejection of Evolution by many among this same group makes sense, as a way of denying change.  To freeze an essential identity in amber seems all important.  To draw a circle around a set of defining characteristics and say “this is what it means to be an American” seems the chief aim of the new nativists.  And anyone who doesn’t fit within those definitions or challenges their patriotic relevance is to be cast out, cut off, rendered mute.  That would be anyone who might suggest business as usual has to change.

I see this as a long arc of historical trending.  After World War II, the United States was in an enviable position as a kind of savior of civilization.  We were the envy of much of the world, even if much of the world resented us and denied that it very much wanted to be us.  As long as there was a clear enemy—the Soviet Union and a perceived threat of encroaching communism—we maintained an identity for ourselves that acted as a kind of ideological and social glue.  Whatever else we may disagree with among ourselves, we knew we didn’t want to be Them.

But that’s gone now.  The decade of the 1990s was a period of adjustment.  There were problems, but not the kind of iconic Good vs. Evil paradigms that had driven us for half a century.  It was a time when we should have realized that what we needed to do was learn to manage, not dominate.  And in order to do that effectively, we had to open our minds to wider understanding.

Which, of course, let in all manner of ideas and influences that are Not American.

2010, it seems, was a year in which the lineaments of the coming conflict were more clearly defined.  Issues over immigration, secrecy, taxation, distribution of wealth, and civil rights are played a part across the battlefield.  Overshadowing all else, though, is the financial crisis and the unemployment rate.  Congress was blamed for not fixing it, but really, what could they do?  Even if Obama had stood firm about the Bush tax cuts and forced Congress to let them expire on the wealthy, exactly what would that have done for the employment problem?  The Republicans keep saying that tax cuts fuel investment, but in the last 30 years we have not seen that to be the case, at least not in terms of people.  That extra money finds its way into dividend checks and off-shore accounts, not in higher employment.  The other claim is that small business is the real generator of higher employment and that seems to be true, so how does that square with cutting taxes on the top two percent?  It doesn’t.  This is a class issue.  That extra tax revenue would go toward paying down the deficit, but it would likely not add a single job.

There is a savage equation in business.  A company has little control over most of the expenses incurred—rent, material, energy, all that is fairly rigidly fixed.  The only expense where most businesses have any kind of flexibility is labor.  Either cut salaries or cut numbers of employees.  For small to medium-sized businesses, this is a fairly straightforward calculus—one employee equals salary plus maybe health benefits and the concomitant taxes.  For larger firms, it’s more complicated—one employee equals salary plus health benefits plus ancillary insurance benefits plus retirement package plus bonus packages plus ancillary taxes.  It’s a larger sum at a certain level.  (Consider auto workers, who may have been making upwards of 60K in salary, but received an addition 50 to 70K in perks, pension promises, etc.)  Outsourcing to compete globally becomes a matter of serious money.  Even if you take away the egregious compensation packages for upper management, these numbers remain and they are a real concern.

This a direct result, however, of the kind of civilization we run.  We are a consumer culture.  The More More More demand to keep the economy expanding has resulted in exactly this kind of problem.  In order to provide the goods that fuel that growth at a cost people can afford, costs of manufacturing must be kept down.  But we’ve been buying the whole world’s production at some level for 50 years now and in order for us to have the money to keep doing that, we have to derive income from somewhere that enables us to maintain, and if the world cannot afford what we make or offer…

Which does not, of course, justify the pillage of American industry that we have seen take place or the obscene transfers of wealth from the public sector to private hands.  This has all been done in the name of self-preservation by those who, as I suggested at the beginning of this, are no longer able to afford their otherwise self-proclaimed patriotism.  They have somehow defined themselves as America and for all the rest of us?  Well, we are welcome to make our own fortunes if we can, but they are removing their sense of responsibility from us.

Before I go on, one other number must be added to the above calculus.  The Census has just come out. We have almost 309 million people here now.  By comparison, in 1970 there were a bit over 203 million.  I chose 1970 because that was a year in which one could clearly see American power and prosperity across the greatest extent of the population.  American cars were still the top sellers, American industry still the envy of the world, the American worker the highest paid, most skilled, our educational system on its way to becoming the jewel in the crown.  We had just put men on the moon, the future looked to be imminent in so many sparkling and wondrous ways, and we were experiencing a surging liberal commitment to inclusiveness.  Nixon was about to create the EPA and the NEA.  In spite of the blight of Vietnam, we were doing great.  The top 5% economically owned only 14% of the wealth.

Add an additional hundred million people to that, all of whom have had the same expectations of increasing wealth and prosperity, and ask yourself if it is reasonable to have expected anything other than disappointment.  Numbers matter.

The world has changed.  Easy to say, difficult to understand why that makes a difference.  In the face of everything that has changed since 1970, does it make sense to try to maintain a national identity rooted in the 1940s?

I have some thoughts on that score, but I think I’ll save them for another post.  I will say that I do not see a slide into oblivion as inevitable.  But to prevent it will require something progressives have lacked since Reagan—a clear vision.

New Gallery

I’d intended leaving the Zenfolio galleries alone for a while and just upgrade some of the images in them, swapping out less wonderful stuff for more.  But digging around my various storage boxes this last week I found a cache of negatives and transparencies that represent some of my better work from back in the day.  So I’ve been working all week to put up a new gallery—here.

As I’ve said elsewhere, my main thing in photography is black & white, but apparently I did quite a lot more color work than I remembered.  Odd, that.  You do the work, you’d think  you would remember.  Most of these images are from 35mm, a mix of Kodachrome and Ektachrome.  The last four images, however, in the gallery are from 4 X 5 transparencies.  Like this one:

moss-on-rock-morning.jpg

What I love about this format is the detail and the lushness of color.  But there’s something else about it that has in the past been problematic for me.

It requires patience.

When I learned photography, my father  understood something about it that I failed to appreciate for years.  He understood that to learn any craft well, you have to go at it constantly, and make myriad mistakes.  To get it down right, you throw out 90% of what you do.  More.  So he fueled me with film and paper.  Heedless of cost, I blazed away, roll after roll, print after print, gaining ability gradually by virtue of producing a great deal of garbage.  You can do that with 35mm and, to a lesser extent, 120 roll film.  I would go out on a “expedition” and shoot ten, fifteen rolls.  Most of it forgettable trash.  (I heard Ansel Adams comment once that he was good in direct proportion to what he never let anyone see.)

I’m not as disciplined as I would like to be.  I have no patience.  My friends know this and sometimes shake their heads, both at my lack and by the curious fact that it hasn’t prevented me from doing quality work from time to time.  Everything I’ve ever tried to do has required exactly what I do not naturally possess.

4 X 5 enforces patience.  The equipment is ungainly and heavy.  Setting up a shot takes time.  Raising a 35mm SLR to ones eye and snapping off half a dozen shots takes little effort, but framing a shot with a view camera cannot be done with that kind of speed or nonchalance.  You get one sheet of film, maybe two.  The handling and processing is necessarily cumbersome and it just takes time.  After a few lousy shots, you find yourself (if you’re any good at all) slowing down, being careful, really looking at what you’re shooting.  Gradually, glacially, you start developing an appreciation for the frame that, at least in my case, the smaller formats with their ease of blazing away never granted.

Curiously enough, the 4 X 5 image I’ve been reworking in Photoshop have been the ones requiring the least manipulation.  I “got it right” on the shot.

I will probably do one or two more galleries and then see about exhibiting.  There are over 400 images in my online galleries now, most of them some of my best work.  I have literally thousands of more negatives and transparencies.  I’m glad of the chance to display them this way, at least give people a chance to see what I’ve done.

Oh, a note about image quality.  Maybe this is something I simply haven’t figured out, but it’s a technical annoyance, and I want to explain.  I’m doing all my work on a standard monitor.  The lab I’m using takes the file when I’m finished and makes a print and so far I have seen on the print what I see on my screen.  But I’ve looked at these images on other screens and some of them, for whatever reason, come up very washed out.  I’ve corrected some of them so get a crisper image on flatscreens, but it’s unpredictable.  So any of you, if you’re looking at these and the picture looks flat or too light, please adjust your screen or take my word for it that a print would look marvelous.  I’m still learning this digital thing and I’m sure I’m just doing—or not doing—something basic.

Thanks and enjoy.

More Images

Since beginning to work with Photoshop, I’ve been doing some archaeology.  Unearthing slides and negatives buried around the house.  For so long I used whatever lab I worked at to produce images that when I finally found myself working entirely at home, I basically dumped my files wherever I found room.  Now I’m trying to locate stuff.

Sounds horribly disorganized, I know.  That’s me, though.  Both my parents are methodical, organized, neat people.  Me, not so much.  I have never been able to maintain an organized environment for any length of time.  I have to do major cleaning every so often.  (Right now my office is a disaster, having been the place everything from upstairs has ended up during progressive cleanings of the main part of the house.  And it’s winter and I’ve moved most of my writing upstairs to save on the heating bill.)

I’ve been trying to find several pages of 35mm slides now for months.  These pages were once intended to be portfolio sheets, representing what I could do.  In my imagination, the magnificence of the images was beginning to take on epic proportions.  Well, I found them today and that magnificence…well, they ain’t bad.

They are quite suitable for manipulation, though, and I’ve begun the process of making them suitable for whatever may come.  For example:

dawn-and-power-lines.jpg

I shot that after dawn one day in September, about 1978 or so.  I forget where.  I just got in the car and drove and found some back roads.  I used to do that a lot.  Throw the cameras in the back seat, just tank up and drive, see what I could find.

I was never so much with people, at least I didn’t think so at the time, but I’ve done a lot of fair portraits.  But I did like doing the occasional bit of narrative photography.  Like this:

clown-balloons.jpg

(That one wasn’t quite that vibrant in the original.)

This has been great fun and I think I’m getting inspired to try exhibiting again.  I never pursued that enough.  Maybe this time I’ll stick to it a bit more tenaciously.  I’ll say this, with all the material I have in boxes I really wouldn’t need to take anymore photographs.

Not to worry.  I don’t intend to stop seeing.  Not by a longshot.

sun-through-branches.jpg

Explain It To Me

In the movie Philadelphia, Denzel Washington plays a savvy courtroom litigator whose catch-phrase in front of a jury is “Explain it to me like I’m eight-years-old.”  It’s a great line and maybe I’m looking for that kind of clarity now.

I really don’t know what to make of this.  Obama—who won election with a very solid majority of the popular vote and a most impressive majority of the electoral—has managed to be reasonable to the point of impotence.  He’s on the verge of validating every cliche about spineless intellectuals.  The man is smart, erudite, has charisma, and can’t seem to say no to the Right.  It is possible that this is another one of those situations where we the people simply don’t know what’s going on and cannot therefore grasp the tactics or strategy.  Maybe this is cleverness at such a level that it looks clumsy and gutless.

I don’t believe that for a second, though.  (The only thing that makes any kind of sense in that vein is the idea that he is handing the GOP more and more rope with which to hang themselves.  The problem with that is any rope, in order to work in an execution, has to be tied to something substantial on one end.)

Let me be clear up front.  I am unemployed.  My benefits are nearing an end.  I’m annoyed by that but not desperate.  We did many sensible things over the last several years.  We paid off our house.  We never carried a balance on our credit cards.  Never.  We locked away surplus funds in C.D.s and money markets.  We bought a new car only because it was cheaper to do that than to keep paying out a few hundred a month to keep the old one running.  We told ourselves no a lot.  So when my job went away (I’ve talked about this before; it was a combination of technological obsolescence and the ’08 crash) we were not devastated.  We had breathing space.

Many of the unemployed do not.

One major reason they do not is because so many bought into the program sold to them by the very people who are now working to strip them of everything else they have.

One of the far Right arguments against Entitlements runs like this: it’s your responsibility to take care of your well being, not the State’s.  That, in fact, the State stepping in in any way to alleviate circumstances brought about by personal irresponsibility (lack of savings, buying on credit, relying on a job that might not be there in ten years) fosters an environment of dependence and undermines the work ethic of the population, creating a welfare state with hundreds of thousands of dependent, lazy people.

This is nothing new.  Herbert Hoover expressed exactly these arguments in 1929 as the reasons for refusing direct aid to the catastrophically unemployed.  He was afraid that if people got used to sucking off the government teat, they would never go back to work, because, you know, people are fundamentally lazy and will not work if given half a chance.

Which kind of flies in the face of the other Great American Myth of Our Character, that of self-reliant, self-motivated, hard-working, independent people.  Both of these views cannot be true, and any halfway serious look at the history of labor in this country shows that the contradiction is entirely in the minds of the greedy or morally myopic.  People traditionally hate being dependent for handouts.  Most—the vast majority—will go off any kind of assistance as soon as they can find viable work.  People are not fundamentally lazy.  Idleness makes most people crazy.

Besides, this view also fails to take into consideration the other fact of life, which is that economically the unemployed serve a purpose.  They are a pool of threat with which management keeps labor in line.  It’s convenient, therefore, that a certain level of unemployment is inevitable.  No system is 100% efficient.  (During WWII, when if one stood in the middle of a street and declared a willingness to work, half a dozen employers would fight each other to snatch you up, we had between 3 and 4 % unemployment.)  This is not a moral failing, it is simply the reality of large, complex systems.  We have never and can never have a system in which 100% of the available work force is employed.  (For one thing, if we did, it couldn’t last long—upward pressure on wages would spiral toward infinity in such a system and it would quickly break down.)

Now, given that, it would seem to me that arguments about the moral correctness of denying assistance to the unemployed are horribly inappropriate.  If you are unemployed because no job is available, how are you to be held personally accountable for that?

Nevertheless, the pronouncements of the increasingly moralistic Right continue against anything that smacks of socialism.  We will not have universal health care—not because it would cost too much—because it’s socialism.  We will not have continued unemployment aid to those who are unemployable by virtue of American downsizing, realignment, orthe march of technological progress, because it is socialism.  We will not indulge any dialogue about the redistribution of wealth, because that is…

I voted for Obama because he said he would work to change business as usual.  The Right is engaged in a very effective effort to wreck the middle class and establish themselves as some sort of aristocracy.  The people for whom the GOP works today are the ideological descendants of the Robber Barons.

What dismays me most, though, is how working people have been brainwashed into believing that voting for the Right is in their best interest.  What, do they think they’ll get a Christmas bonus for backing the Koch brothers agenda?

Assistance in this country since LBJ has been crippled by the Right.  It should never have cost so much, but it does because of all the conditions heaped upon what should have been simple programs for alleviating short-term disadvantage by politicians who wanted, apparently, to guarantee that no advantage was ever given to someone “not of their class.”  It is supposed to be anathema in this country to talk about class, we aren’t supposed to have classes.  But the fact is we do, they just happen to be porous to anyone with money.  Or without.  There is no genteel poverty in America.  Lose your money, lose your friends, your status, your reputation.  No matter what kind of person you may be, no one will help you if you go bankrupt and fall from the hallowed halls of the supremely rich.  It may may be a pretend class in many ways, but it is very real, and the only validating factor is wealth.

I do not have a problem with wealth as such.  I don’t believe in stripping someone of their millions.  The problem is not money for personal use, it is money used to manipulate markets and control social conditions.  It is not the fact that Bill Gates is worth 80 billion that I find troubling, but that MicroSoft with its three hundred or so billion in net worth is capable of dictating social conditions.  Buying politicians and funding campaigns is not the job of private enterprise, especially if the purpose of those purchases is to screw Joe and Jane Citizen out of another cost-of-living increase, health care, and the possibility of educating their children.

The Supreme Court has said that money is speech.  As far as I know, it is still illegal to bribe a public official.  Campaign financing is basically, as it is practiced today, bribery.  It would seem to me a good place to begin a class action suit to roll back Citizens United.

But I do not know what to do about the spineless Left.  Senator Sanders is up there speaking truth to power, but he is doing so as an Independent, not a Democrat.  This is a problem we have been floundering with since the end of Vietnam—what do we stand for?

Obama has apparently decided that the only viable strategy is to cave in and hope he gets reelected.  This is a pity, because during his first 18 months he did a lot of good things.  But on the big issues he has backed off consistently and refused to take a stand and say “No further” to the moneyed interests who own the GOP.  At this point, it seems obvious that he will not be reelected because his supporters will not trust him to carry their message.  For someone who so effectively worked the grass roots to become the first black president in our history, this is so utterly bewildering that I can only assume he has been bought by the power elite who are even now trying to shut WikiLeaks down so we don’t find out anything else we shouldn’t.

On the other hand, I don’t actually know why anyone is panicking over WikiLeaks.  From what I’ve seen, the people who ought to read those documents won’t, and it will change nothing, because apparently, for many Americans, it’s just too damn much trouble.

I don’t know.  Explain it to me like I’m eight-years-old.

Reading and Lists

By now, I’m sure, many if not most people on FaceBook have encountered the so-called BBC list of books “everyone should read” but likely haven’t.  It’s an interesting meme, both for what is on it and for what is not, but also for the apparent idiocies it contains.  For example, Shakespeare’s Hamlet is listed and then, separately, The Complete Works of Shakespeare.  What, is Hamlet suddenly no longer part of the Complete Works?  Also, the first book of C.S. Lewis’s Narnia series is listed and then—again separately—The Chronicles of Narnia.

Aside from the obvious lack of editing, this raises the number of books (or, in the case of Shakespeare, “books”) quite a bit above 100.  So the question is, did the BBC actually have anything to do with it?

Well, yes and no.  Here is a  good explanation of both where the list came from and how memes like this get going.  Note that there was a list which was then opened for voting from BBC viewers.  An amended list, comprised of an amalgam of lists, ended up making the rounds via the internet and primarily on FaceBook.  As these things go, this one at least has the virtue of getting people thinking about and talking about reading, which I count as a good thing.

But it does open the question about canons and reading lists and what counts as “worthwhile” reading.  Part of the BBC meme is the assertion that “most people” have only read six of the listed titles.  (My own score is slightly north of half—I haven’t read the Harry Potter novels, nor most of Shakespeare,  and several of the more recent novels listed are not even on my radar [Dan Brown?  Are they serious?] )  Going down the list caused me to look at my own shelves, wonder why I hadn’t read some of these books, and perhaps look to acquiring others.

As a list of noteworthy books it would be good for more people to have read, it has its flaws, but it’s not terrible.  It did, however, get me pondering what I would include on my own such list and why.  So I came up with a syllabus and posted it.  To my delight, it attracted a lot of comments and may eventually become its own meme.  (Is that one of the great ambitions of the modern age? To have one’s own meme?)

My list is composed of those works of fiction which, in my estimation, would act as a solid ground upon which to build an even greater reading life.  These books—to me—embody eras, styles, concerns, and show a history over time of the evolution of the novel, not to mention offer what are, in my opinion, some of the richest reading experiences possible without utterly exhausting or discouraging the less than wholly committed.  By that, I mean people who read but may not have read in the classics or who may not read for the highest aesthetic reasons or who have limited experience with what Harold Bloom calls Deep Reading.  For this reason, I did not include works like  James Joyce’s Ulysses, which I feel rests at the far end of a bell curve of difficulty.  There are other novels that fit this category which, if anyone goes through the rest of the list would still be there to offer an even greater experience.  I did not, for instance, include Thomas Pynchon’s Gravity’s Rainbow, which is arguably his best, certainly his most famous.  I did include his V. because I felt it to be essential to that period of American literature (along with William Gaddis’s   The Recognitions).  I likewise did not include  Dhalgren by Samuel R. Delany for the same reasons.

My view in creating this list was to represent the best writing at its most entertaining.  The challenge of “deep reading” is a different kind of pleasure.  For my part, often in the past I’ve cracked a book I was simply not ready for.  I read Ulysses when I was 18.  I assure you, it was a ghost-like experience—there was the sense of passing through something, but what it was I could not grasp.  I reread it, in a group setting, a few years ago and discovered a rewarding experience.  There have been other novels with which I’ve had the same realization.  Some works you have to build up to.

My choices, of course, elicited curious responses and quibbles, as all such lists will—and should.

One of the statements by which I live concerns book burning, which I consider an odious practice, just shy of genocide.  A book—especially a novel—is not A Thing in the sense of other objects.  A book, once engaged, is a life relived through access.  Someone put an essential part of their being into the making of the book, it reflects that person’s ambitions, desires, fears, hopes, loves, passions.  To destroy it is to kill them again.  It is a kind of murder.  Reading, to me, is not an avoidance of people, like many of my peers as I grew up tried to tell me, but an engagement with a person not present but who has left something of him or herself for me to know.  Seen like that, close reading of so-called classics is an act of regeneration—indeed, resurrection.  Bringing the characters to life allows the author a chance to tell what was important to him or her at that time, to have a conversation of a special sort with someone impossible to know any other way.

The writing of a story is a process of encoding the imagination, which is in many ways the distillation of who we are.  When someone picks it up and reads it and experiences the imagining encoded, that distillation opens up and suffuses the reader.

I could compose a few more lists like this one, each with books that would tell a story of lives and adventures, customs and tragedies, dreams and loves, and be just as valid.  The whole purpose of such lists, though, should be seen as presenting opportunities.  Read these and find friends, learn about strangers, let someone live again for the space of a few hundred pages.  They are gateway documents, in no way proscriptive.  Just because something isn’t on such a list doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be or couldn’t be on someone else’s list, and certainly doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be read and valued.  Doing this has me thinking about some of the books I still haven’t read.

Interestingly enough, I’m currently reading a novel I really ought to have read 40-plus years ago.  Rite of Passage by Alexei Panshin.  It’s one of those “seminal” novels we hear about, a novel that encapsulated something for its time and did what it did better than most.  It’s set in a time long after the Earth has destroyed itself and concerns the life of a girl growing up aboard a starship.  She is 12 years old when the story opens, two years from the Trial—a period she must survive in order to become An Adult, a rite of passage—and told from her perspective as she approaches the trial.  (I’m enjoying it, which is a bit surprising, because it really is one of those novels one should read at the “proper” time of life–great for teenager, not so much for a 56 year old.  Still.)  I came across a brief discussion in the book of old novels, which the main character reads and enjoys—and then observes that no one writes novels anymore, as if living on a starship has somehow fulfilled the need novels once filled.  This surprised me, especially coming from a writer who clearly knew what he was doing.  The need for story will never pass.  Even in places and times when storytelling has been suppressed and denigrated, it thrives.  Because it is not the novelty of the story that matters, though this is an important feature—it is the preservation of lives and imaginations.  Stories about certain Things may well pass from our interest, but story itself is as integral to being human as the need for other people.

New Work

I’ve almost filled the portfolios on Zenfolio I initially put up.  Arbitrary numbers, yes, but I opted to include 32 images in each different gallery.  The only two I haven’t completed yet are the People Gallery and the Experimental Gallery.  The former, I’m getting to, the latter will take a bit more time.  In a way, almost everything I’ve been doing on Photoshop has been “experimental”, at least for me.

But I’m now beginning to cull the images in the other Galleries.  Some of them are simply not good enough to be there, so as I do better I will make substitutions.  Here is one of the new images, though, this one in the Experimental Gallery.

urban-light-on-brick.jpg

At some point, when I’m satisfied, I may convert the Zenfolio site to a fully interactive store.  Even without that, all these photographs can be purchased.  Click on the image desired, copy and paste the url into an email to me with all the relevant info, and I’ll get back to you.

Meanwhile, enjoy.