Hubristic Centrism, Humbug right-wingery, and absent Liberalism: today's politics

Apostate conservative Ross Douthat is one of today's most interesting political writers. Here's his take on todays' problematic US political dynamics:
http://www.nytimes.com/2012/12/23/opinion/sunday/douthat-bloomberg-lapierre-and-the-void.html?partner=rssnyt&emc=rss&_r=0

I don't agree with everything he says (the bit about the rights of religious institutions being 'negotiable at best,' I find inaccurate. There's tremendous freedom of religion in the US--more than almost anywhere else. I assume Douthat is referring, however, to the fact that healthcare law forces some non-church but religiously affiliated employers (like Catholic hospitals) to cover birth control, which is against there religious principals. Here, Douthat fails to note that religious freedom applies to everybody,  not just socially conservative Christians; it's an accident of history that employers sponsor healthcare coverage in the United States. I'm fine with that, but your employer has no business involving itself in whether birth control is covered by standard insurance policies. I'd also point out that birth control pills are one of the most effective ways of reducing abortions, so most of us ought to be able to come together on that one, even if we don't agree that individual rights should trump the rights of institutions. Still, I respect that this is a problematic issue), but his overall I find his analysis incisive and accurate. It's worth your time.

Endings: 'Lord of Light' and 'Empire of the East'

'Death and Light are everywhere, always, and they begin, end, strive, attend, into and upon the Dream of the Nameless that is the world, burning words within Samsara, perhaps to create a thing of beauty.'
-Zelazny (p296, common trade paperback edition)

On endings:

Diapadion asked me, a few weeks ago, if I knew of any endings that compared to Lloyd Alexander's famous wrapping up of theme and plot points in his children's fantasy 'The High King.' It occurred to me that two other speculative fiction novels were worth mention in this regard.

Lord of Light

They're both flawed works, but Roger Zelazny's great work of science fantasy about the evolution of religion, his heroic parable of Buddhism and accelerationism in space, in addition to being 'brilliant and tricky and heartfelt and dangerous,' in the words of Neil Gaiman, is also so built up by the end that it divides into four legendary endings. Lord of Light ends (slight spoilers):

'These are the four versions of Sam and the Red Bird which Signalled his Departure, as variously told by the moralists, the mystics, the social reformers and the romantics. One may, I dare say, select whichever version suits his fancy.'

The ending isn't perfect--rather, the book has become so epic that its conclusion must be splintered in order to prevent the book from sinking under its own weight. The only alternative would be to remain vague, which would be even less satisfying. It's an interesting solution.

Changeling Earth / Empire of the East

Fred Saberhagen was a genius, less recognized than he should be for his accomplishments in humanizing vampires ('The Dracula Tape', written before any of Anne Rice's stuff) and bringing philosophy and doomsday machines into intelligent science fiction ('Berserker'). One of his earlier and more uneven works was the trilogy of three small novels now known as Empire of the East, a work loosely related to his later Swords fantasy novels. While Saberhagen occasionally loses track of characters and doesn't develop all his threads, the second and third novels are both masterpieces of a sort, and the climax of the trilogy, with its newly generated god (with roots in the technology of a dead civilization) making a decision amid his life and death battle with an ancient demon, a decision that changes the dynamics of the entire world going forward, is a culmination of themes, plot-points and premises, and drama to match Luke's climactic fight with Vader and the Emperor in Return of the Jedi. I can't say more, or I'll spoil it. But where Zelazny's ending is a great denoument, Empire of the East's greatness is anchored by the its climax.
Buy 'Empire of the East' from the world's largest physical book store--they deserve your support

and here's 'Lord of Light'

What do folks like about Jackson's 'Lord of the Rings'?

...and third, having spoken somewhat at length about the series' flaws, I would very much like to know what it is people appreciate about the film versions of Tolkien's big old book. I have heard appreciation of Jackson for pulling such a big project together, but little else, specifically. For films so financially successful and with such an enthusiastic following...well, tell me, folks, what do you like about them? The world created? The characters, despite their angsty, vulnerable modernness? The visual effects? Sets? Costumes? Plot? Humor? What is it about these films (besides the Balrog scene, which almost everyone likes, I think), which deviate so markedly from their source material in both necessary (Tom Bombadil) and unnecessary (the strange dumbing down of characters and the changing of the dramatic end to the battle around Minas Tirith) ways, that makes everyone my age own the extended versions on DvD? I would love to hear your thoughts.

Update: a few more thoughts about the 'Lord of the Rings' films

So, as 'The Hobbit' part 1 comes out, in going over my post trashing Jackson's movie versions of The Lord of the Rings, a few things became clear (several pointed out by commenters):

First, I was a bit overharsh in my critique at times. 'Garbage-quality film-making' is a strong way to describe a few examples of things that didn't work, amid ten hours of film narrative. Every film has its flaws.

While I was hyperbolic, though, my problem with Jackson's treatment of his characters seems to stand up to closer scrutiny pretty well: they seem generally Hollywoodized and simplified, even when these things are not necessary (ten hours is plenty of time to develop this cast; Jackson and his screenwriters simply do not seem interested in doing so). When Jackson's cast are not overly modern, they seem dumbed down and oversentimentalized, in a way that contrasts markedly both with Tolkien's vision (the sense of medieval heroism and dignity the author seemed to want to portray, in varying forms, in his elves, dwarfs and high men, even in more morally problematic characters like Boromir, who had a Davidian ethos of responsibility and protecting the weak, even if he lacked the wisdom of a true king) and the needs of nuanced storytelling. I am talking, here, of simplification and changes such as in the following characters:

Sam: in the book he's young and lacks of knowledge of the world, but is nevertheless a pretty tough, loyal, and practical working class fellow, and, storywise, probably the strongest of the hobbit charactercs, aside from Bilbo in 'The Hobbit.' In the film, though, Sam is strangely fat, whiny, emotionally vulnerable, and sentimental, as well as a little stupid.

Eowyn: in the book, a lady made of ice, fire, high station, and a sword-arm. In the film, she's less wooden (and this is probably a good thing), but in becoming more human seems to default toward sentimentality and vulnerability just like Samwise, above. Just as he loses his place as a respectable, salt-of-the-earth, working-class hobbit, she's much less of a strong woman in the film. The writing cuts against her independent, defiant heroism--in her climactic scene, she's just lucky, in the film, that a midget snuck up behind the zombie who rides pterodactyl and stabbed the guy.

Re: Galadriel, I think my commentor Buzz/Doom may have overstated things by accusing Jackson of failing 'basic reading comprehension.' Rather, Jackson made a deliberate choice to sacrifice consistency of character and a chance for development, for the sake of visual drama. Nevertheless, he and Diapadion are correct that her major scene is substantively altered and possibly dumbed down; in The Two Towers (the book), when Galadriel is tempted by the ring, it's fairly clear that she's ready for this test, and gives a speech about her temptation and its consequences in order to educate Frodo about the risk he's carrying with him. There are fewer fireworks, but Galadriel's cold wisdom and psychological preparation are palpable, and fairly good storytelling, even if one realizes afterward there was almost no chance she was on the point of giving in to The Ring.

In the film, on the other hand, the test is a major point of drama, something she almost fails. By making the change, Jackson gives his viewers another miniclimax to keep the tension up in a long movie, and spruces it up with some somewhat memorable visuals (Cate Blanchett color-shifted and blowing in the wind of the ring's power), though the lack of effective backing on the soundtrack somewhat dampens the scene's effect. It also loses the nuances surrounding the elf-queen's wisdom--which is a problem since she's a major character, and this is really her only scene. In the film, we are told, not shown, that she's wise--and the story is weaker because of it.

Other, more minor characters are Hollywoodised: the Mouth of Sauron, who in the book seems to be a corrupted member of a proud, ancient race of high men (i.e. the same folk as Aragorn, though of older and purer blood), whereas in the film he's a generic half-monster in black armor who's there to get his head chopped off, in the film. There's also the matter of Gimli and Merry and Pippin, who, while not fully developed in the book, are  more than the slapstick comic relief they tend toward being in the film--especially the Dwarf, which is unfortunate since he's the only member of his race in the principal cast, giving the impression that the dwarves' champion is more Buster Keaton than Thorin Oakenshield.

Oh, and why did Treebeard have the same voice as the dwarf, Gimli, causing a subconscious association between the two (very different) characters?

(continued above)

Egil's Saga, Medieval lit, fantasy, Galadriel

On set today, I began rereading Egil's Saga, probably the greatest of the Old Norse sagas, except maybe the immense Sagas of Norwegian Kings (possibly by the same author, Snorri Sturluson) and, I guess, Volsunga Saga, which is much more fantastic and really comparable. Eat your heart out, Laxdaela Saga and Njal's Saga--neither of you can match Egil's mix of nihilism, commentary on human society and psyche, divided against themselves; hints of pagan history and legend, sense of character, storytelling verve, and more. None of you have genuine cave bears, though, so that's a ding for every one of you. Volsunga Saga gets close.

Anyway, Egil is interesting for, among other things, the sense it gives of the lives of society in ninth century Scandinavia: the grain barn repurposed into a feasting hall, the taxes laid on salt, the tribute extracted from the Sami, the dynamics of kingship and distribution of power and wealth from the king to his retainers, the interior 'wildernesses' which were settled by important men fleeing King Harald Shaggy, who were unwilling to pay his rents on land, fishing, salt, and even a hunter's quarry. And, of course, there's plenty of war and an alliance with Aethelstan the Glorious to come if I keep reading.

I think I will probably stop commenting on politics in this space. First of all, there's plenty of good political commentary already out there. Some might say too much. Second, we're mostly sick of it, right now. Third, the mythic and medieval is much more interesting to talk about for me: even thinking about Lloyd Alexander's work again has me excited, though I haven't touched the stuff in more than fifteen years. Aside from that, I'm sure I'm missing a forum somewhere, but I haven't much seen this stuff discussed seriously anywhere on the web, so I may as well do so here--especially as it's something I'm producing right now.

Fourth (or is it seventh? I haven't slept much, lately): Doom, don't think I've forgotten your thoughts on Galadriel, who I freely admit to having been too bored with to examine very closely (that sort of thing is why I like 'The Hobbit' better than 'The Lord of the Rings'), and so demand you explain for us, here, what she was about and what Jackson and his minions are missing about her. Or you can do it at your place, and I will link. Whatever. Put it on (figurative) paper before the new movie comes out, with her added in, and we can see if your perception of misperception holds up.

Definitely crashing now.

America's Sixth Party System

So far as I can tell, most internet sources explain America's Sixth Party System with a link to something describing the Fifth Party System (which I'll do here), and then saying the Sixth Party System is whatever came after that we're not exactly sure but Republicans tend to win more now. I'll try to do a little more, because if you don't understand the Sixth Party System (and many of you probably do, just not under that name), you may not understand the fundamentals of US politics now, and for the last forty-four years or so.

(UPDATE: This blog post from three years ago, despite a few minor errors and mistypes, gets at some of the details I didn't: The Uniqueness of the Sixth Party System [I'w afraid I have a few mistypes of my own, but I'll have to clean them up later)

Some political scientists and historians still claim we're in the Fifth Party System, but as a practical matter, it's probably important to make a distinction between the New Deal Coalition's era and what we have now, which began around 1968 and gradually shifted, from there to the year 2000, but especially in 1972 (politics-wise), and 1980 (policy-wise) into something different. You miss a lot, if you pretend what we have now is the same thing Franklin Roosevelt created; the consequences of the shift have been huge.

The 5th Party System was inaugurated in 1932, amid the chaos of the depression, with the election of the Roosevelt and more than a hundred new Democrats to the House of Representatives (and many more in the senate). They took office in 1933 amid 25% unemployment, and proceeded through 'bold sustained experimentation' (FDR's words) to use the power of government to stabilize the economy, provide unemployed workers with work on government projects like dams, bridges, roads, and parks and irrigation, and generally be very active in trying to lower unemployment, fix the economy, and provide some minimal benefit to the American people, particularly economically, through a sensible and lively government. Their success was incomplete until The World War (of 1939) put an end to unemplopment and helped America transition from an Agrarian economy into an industrial one. And they made mistakes (the experimentation part, and something known as NIRA, which I won't get into but which everyone agrees was bad), but by 1936 , despite substantial (but much lower, more like 10%) continued unemployment, the political landscape had been transformed. In contrast to before, business was again (as it had been under the first President Roosevelt) checked by the power of government, small old-age pensions had been started for the elderly, and an era had begun in which Liberals and moderates worked together to govern our polity effectively, by regulating the financial lthat'd helped cause the collapse, intervening in the economy when it faltered, promoting union rights to bargain for reasonable pay for their workers, and generally facilitating economic security for everyone within a regulated capitalist society. And these Liberals and moderates were reelected accordingly (with some ebb-and-flow; the Conservative Coalition took power in the elections of 1946, only to receive a thrashing by the New Dealers, led by fighting Harry Truman, in 1948). These champions of the common man and government for the common interest were united across both parties in something called The New Deal Coalition, whose governing philosophy was an economics-focused form of Social Liberalism (you should consider following that link and reading the header). They often shared power with their opponents, The Conservative Coalition, who also had seats in both parties, but never were completely (or mostly) out until 1980.

This began to change in the 1960s, when the challenges of race (which the New Dealers had usually tried to keep off the table--with notable exceptions such as Harry Truman's desegregation of the armed forces in 1948-- in order to keep the votes of white southerners who were willing to tolerate populist governmental intervention, but wanted blacks to remain second-class citizens with few to no rights) forced civil rights to the forefront of American society. A new generation of left-wing activists appeared, too: raised in relative middle-class affluence, they were more concerned with social justice and rights for all* than with a social safety net they took for granted. In 1964 and 1965, the Southern president Lyndon Johnson abandoned the socially conservative wing of the Democratic Party and used JFK's martyrdom to push through the most important civil and voting rights legislation since just after the civil war. In that year (1964), the country chose liberal Democrats in massive numbers to lead us through a crisis in which reactionary southern states were perceived as being in rebellion against decency and order, but in doing so, the New Deal sewn the seeds of its own destruction: Johnson turned to his aid, Bill Moyers (if memory serves) when he signed the Civil Rights Act and stated, roughly: 'We have now lost the South for a generation.' It turned out not to be quite that simple, but nevertheless, from 1966 through 2008, Liberals were never again able to put together a definitive winning coalition (centrist Democrats did win the presidency in 1976, after a historic scandal, and in 1992, but were unable or unwilling (in Carter's case) to govern from the center-left. More on that, later).

From 1968, America's centre-left political coalition, which had been based on economic justice, fairness, and effective governance, was gradually replaced (in the common mind and in the mouths of their opponents more than in reality, but, as it happens, perception is all that counts at the polls) by one in which more emphasis was placed on what might be termed social justice, or social issues: issues often of race, gender, sexuality (as well as a more just and dovish foreign policy) that poor white men and older folk have always had a hard time supporting (America's social change in the 20th century was quite rapid, by historical standards). This, along with the foreign policy switch of the Democrats who formed the majority of the New Dealers--from the moderately hawkish assertiveness of John F. Kennedy and Harry Truman  to something somewhat more dovish at the presidential level, especially in 1968 and 1972--alienated many traditional New Deal voters, particularly ethnic whites (who were then less assimilated than they are now), the South (which had previously voted solidly Democratic, if not always for liberals, than at least for people who'd often go along on a lot of stuff [not race or Feminism, obviously]), and working class voters all over the country who'd formed their traditional base. And that shift, basically, is how we ended up in Nixonland: the gradually shifting political alignment, born partly of political resentments and demonization of minorities (all effectively exploited by 'conservatives' which increasingly meant the GOP), that we call the Sixth Party System of contemporary politics.

On policy grounds, the actual change in the left-wing coalition, was more one of emphasis (the heart of the New Dealer activists of the 30s had always believed in racial justice, and often acted--very quietly before 1960--to do what they could within the political constraints of the time) than actual content, but the change in emphasis was key, and was exploited deftly by Republican opponents in the realignment of 1968-1972 (both important GOP presidential victories) that occurred because of it.**

That's the political world we've been living in all my life, one in which the white working class and southerners increasingly didn't/don't trust Democrats or Liberals. And that's only beginning to change now, in 2012 (which, in contrast to 2008, 1992/6, and 1976, was a clear (if somewhat narrow) victory for the centre-left coalition on its own terms and in comparison to its opponents' vision, and not (in part) because of disillusionment with an unpopular incumbent, as in 2008, or by running and governing partly against the left wing of their party, as presidents Clinton and Carter had to do (and which brought only very partial victory to both: a limited mandate in 1992 for Clinton, and then six years of cohabitation with a Republican Congress, and only a single term for the [admittedly fairly incompetent] Carter).

I realize that in explaining all this I've shorted the evolution of the Republican Party (which was not always synonymous with 'Conservatism'), but for that we'll have to wait for another time (in short, from 1964 to 2010, Republicans moved from a moderate, ideologically diverse party based in largely in the Northeast, tolerant of moderate change on social issues, moderately supportive of racial equality [and less divided than Democrats on that issue] and supportive of business interests, yet with an acceptance of a role for government in things like public safety and public investment, especially--and accepting of the level of taxation necessary to fund that government--to what it is now, which is...well, still changing, but much farther to the right, based more in the South, exploitive of religious, racial, and economic paranoia, and fairly Libertarian on issues of economics and governance [and with increasing Libertarian influence in other areas, at least for the moment, though Right-Libertarians are still a fairly small part of the coalition, except with voters under thirty) .

**Not at all fun fact: Nixon's subtly racist 'law and order' campaign of 1968 (which also ran against Federally forced black-white integration of local school systems in the South and elsewhere) was based on Ronald Reagan's successful 1966 campaign for the governorship of California, which occurred after riots had broken out in black neighborhoods in L.A., particularly Watts, where 34 people died and a black rioter took the stage at a public meeting and, on national TV, threatened armed insurrection and violence against the women and children of the white community of L.A. and the broader US. This was the sort of thing that so quickly soured white portions of the 1960s US electorate, who'd been promised progress and a more perfect union if LBJ's civil rights bills passed, and had voted for him in huge numbers (61.1% of the popular vote, the greatest victory for any US President since records have been kept) to vote for him less than a year before. See also the 1969 armed takeover by black students of a building at Cornell--and that university administration's timid response to the incident [which, among other things, turned the donor who the hall had been named for from a civil-society, PBS and Sesame Street supporting moderate into a right-wing nutball for the rest of his life, and sent huge sums of (seed) money into far-right organizations from 1970); things seemed to be getting out of hand, not going forward. Depressing, I know).

*The New Left also wanted (and wants, to the extent they still exist, now assimilated into the larger Progressive movement) a more dovish foreign policy, i.e. not spending the lives of young American men to support an authoritarian, capitalist and very corrupt regime in a strategically weak location--Vietnam--against that region's nationalist movement, which identified with communism but received easy aid (both effective weapons and training) from the Great Powers of communism, China and Russia, over a shared border.
--It's worth mentioning that, as a member of and occasional activist within the Democratic Party, while social issues have a powerful hold over the party at most levels (there are still a number of [sometimes potential] Democratic voters, often older, whiter ones, I believe, who care much more about economic issues than social ones), the McGovern doves have very little sway over Liberal elected officials in government; i.e. while most activists and many Democratic voters in the Sixth Party System are doves on foreign policy, their representatives in the US Congress and Presidency (with the partial, much-exaggerated exception of Jimmy Carter [who ordered the disastrous Operation Eagle Claw and started the US intervention in Afghanistan], in addition to being a decorated ex-Naval Officer, in contrast to his opponent, Reagan) very rarely are. There's a large coalition of moderates on national security issues, but even 'doves' like Socialist Bernie Sanders support the military industrial complex very substantially, and generally support military action as long as it seems to be prudent and not guided by a crony defense-industrialist chicken-hawk who never served like Dick Cheney (which latter skepticism I believe to be ultimately both wise and principled, if also motivated by peak).

To expand on that a little, while I think it's appropriate to vote against sixth party system Democrats Liberals on the grounds of social issues, if you disagree with their stance there, on national security there's really very little to worry about from the right. The doves (who in my view hold somewhat naive (though sometimes correct; see Iraq, 2002-3) world-views that don't hold up very well once one gets into office and actually has to deal with security issues) just don't have much power in the party, and there's little reason to believe this will ever change, President Obama very much included in this analysis (his foreign policy, while not my favorite, is not really problematic for being too dovish--rather, I find it too Kissengerian in its amoral and somewhat short-sighted Realpolitik [the so-called Idealists have their problems too] ). But enough digressions. I'm done.

Tea Party Democrats of 1890

In searching for a good link to embed in my previous post to explain the Sixth Party System of US Politics to any curious readers whoed seen it referenced there, I ran across this brief, interesting article about the Classical Liberal wing of the Democratic Party, which elected one of their own to the White House in 1884 and 1892.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bourbon_Democrats

Though Democrats, their political views are very similar to orthodox Tea Partiers in many respects--notably the insistence on Laissez Faire capitalism (i.e. near-religious support of free markets), opposition to subsidies, and adherence to an outdated and damaging gold standard for money. The Bourbons were criticized as old and outdated even at the time, and hadn't the populist tone of the Tea Party (the Populists were their enemies, actually), but the policy ideas were much the same (and the failure of those ideas to address a major economic crisis, the Panic of 1893, led to a huge electoral repudiation in 1894, and their loss of control over the Democratic Party in 1896 to their populist rivals, who proceeded to eke out a narrow loss to the more moderate 'pro-business' Republicans in that year's election, the first funded (on the Republican side, at least) and organized in the 21st century manner, i.e. primarily by rich industrial interests (in a reaction to this, most parts and periods of the 20th century included substantial campaign finance limits that checked that influence, checks which have now been removed by a Conservative US Supreme Court on flimsy constitutional grounds in 'Citizens United,' already much to the detriment of our national governance)

But, yeah, the Bourbon Democrats are worth four minutes of your time, particularly the header section. They didn't last long in power, as the nation was not amused when President Cleveland refused on principle to use the Federal Government to help the nation through national disasters (i.e. vetoing a bill to fund the purchase of new seed corn for next year's crop, the previous year's corn having been almost completely destroyed).

American Political coalitions, forward from 2012

Douthat vs Krugman on our two major political coalitions

Ross Douthat is a terribly interesting writer--highly intelligent, intellectually honest, willing to be an outcast from his beloved Conservative movement for the sake of speaking what he believes to be the truth about reality and government policy.

A bit of an old school (and religious) traditionalist, when asking himself how the party needs to change, he tends to suggest that the right's economic ideology needs to move back toward the center and come up with new ideas to provide solutions for regular people, for the challenges of the present day, which he does not believe the movement has really quite done since the Reagan-era.***  Douthat also has many interesting, reality-based things to say about Liberalism, sometimes insights into its flaws that modern white sixth-party coalition Obama liberals may be unlikely to see after their historic electoral victory in 2012 (which was, as some have noted, in part an affirmation of the Democratic vision as opposed to the GOP's, rather than just a rejection of and gesture of dissatisfaction at the latter, as one could interpret 2008 as having been, if you were so inclined).

Here are some links to some cogent and important articles of his since the election, including one interlocution their intersections with Paul Krugman's blog, which adds to Douthat's insights and notes its deficiencies, as well:

Douthat's column from November 17th, around the height of American Liberal self-satisfaction:
The Liberal Gloat
"Maybe it’s too soon to pierce this cloud of postelection smugness. But in the spirit of friendly correction — or, O.K., maybe curmudgeonly annoyance — let me point out some slightly more unpleasant truths about the future that liberalism seems to be winning.

Liberals look at the Obama majority and see a coalition bound together by enlightened values — reason rather than superstition, tolerance rather than bigotry, equality rather than hierarchy. But it’s just as easy to see a coalition created by social disintegration and unified by economic fear."

Krugman's response, which says, in part, that the Obama coalition is indeed motivated by economic insecurity, but that this is a feature of our post-post-war age, and they are right to vote on those grounds to preserve a welfare state they need more than ever. Where he differs from Douthat is in (not) seeing in 21st century social changes a sort of social disintegration that must be fought to preserve a traditional America.
The insecurity election
"Ross Douthat’s column today...makes a very good point...that the winning Obama coalition did not...consist of forward-looking, NPR-listening, culturally adventurous liberals; ...the big numbers came from groups “unified by economic fear”. Indeed: single women, Hispanics, and, as always, African-Americans are for a stronger welfare state because people like them need the security such a welfare state can provide.

Where I would part ways with Ross is in his suggestions that (a) rising insecurity reflects “social disintegration” and that (b) turning to the welfare state is a dead end.

The truth is that while single women and members of minority groups are more insecure at any given point of time than married whites, insecurity is on the rise for everyone, driven by changes in the economy. Our industrial structure is probably less stable than it was — you can’t count on today’s big corporations to survive...over the course of a working lifetime. And the traditional accoutrements of a good job — a defined-benefit pension plan, a good health-care plan — have been going away across the board.

...Your church and your traditional marriage won’t guarantee the value of your 401(k), or make insurance affordable on the individual market.
...Now, none of this will bring back traditional mores — but that’s really a different issue."

Douthat also has this rather optimistic (all things considered) take on the future 'retrenchment' that may remake the GOP into something more useful to society than it presently is. He argues, basically, that Jim DeMint's exit from the senate may mark a shift in the GOP from the radical ideological retrenchment DeMint represented (and which Douthat argues was necessary to purge the contradictions, cynicism and overspending of Bush II / Delay-era Conservativism {both of which states of being actually extends, in important respects, at least back to the GOP's ideological rebellion against the Omnibus Reconciliation Act of 1990 and its horrible 3% increase in taxes on the uppermost income of the rich and near-rich during a time of budgetary crisis and cuts--the same bill, a deficit reduction package, was composed of 61% in spending cuts--history he doesn't quite acknowledge} ), toward a new era in which GOP ideology will be less rigid and will conform to meet the challenges of the times. Douthat does more or less admits that in the prime example he gives to show the coming changes--Marco Rubio's post-election speech--all that changed was the tone, and not the content of policies, but for the moment I'd like to hope with him for a future party that's a useful and reasonably honest partner in governance.
The Years of DeMint (and the Tea Party)

I think some skepticism is in order, considering the more or less continuous rightward movement of the GOP since 1978, but perhaps if Douthat is wrong about now, another defeat in 2016* will finally push them toward genuine reform.

*Not that I'm assuming this will be the way of things.

Update:

Krugman's blog of November 20th is too good a response not to post as a response to Douthat's column on DeMint and the party's future:
http://krugman.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/11/20/the-new-republicans/
"Second, today’s Republican party is an alliance between the plutocrats and the preachers, plus some opportunists along for the ride — full stop. The whole party is about low taxes at the top (and low benefits for the rest), plus conservative social values and putting religion in the schools; it has no other reason for being. Someday there may emerge another party with the same name standing for a quite different agenda; after all, the Republicans were once defined by opposition to slavery.... But that will take a long time, and it won’t really be the same party."

Read the rest: the 'first' point is at least as important as the 'Second' I quoted above, and in this brief post he makes very incisive observations about contemporary punditry on the 'moderate' right.
____________


(***For what it's worth, economic data suggests Douthat gives Reagan far too much credit for success on economic data in the '80s--those were solved for him by Paul Volcker's short-term cruelty and the disappearance of oil shocks, and there's little evidence to show that conservative economic policies did a damned thing to help (though it did help create our looming debt and deficit today, limiting our options for dealing with this liquidity crisis-induced recession--but really that's mostly Bush II and the modern congressional GOP's fault); the first thing that happened after Reagan's signature policy achievement, the 1981 tax cut, was the biggest recession for twenty-five years or more on either side, which only went away after Reagan agreed to claw back a third of the revenue the next year--though both those policy changes and their economic results are examples of correlation without causation. My point is, the tax cuts and deregulation didn't help, either (unless you count large deficits at the peak of the budget cycle and a 400 billion dollar Savings and Loan bailout to be 'helping'). Like I said before, the reason for those economic instabilities was mostly oil shocks and high interest rates. Reagan suffered politically for them in 82, which wasn't really fair, but also gained immensely when the oil shocks and 13% interest rates finally went away in the second half of 1983 (and for the next twenty or so thereafter, though we've had some high oil prices again recently) ), and some measure of stability returned)

The Brooch of Adaean

Those who know me lately are aware (and possibly slightly annoyed) that for the last month or so I've spent a lot of time thinking of the fantasy end of the speculative fiction genre (which is actually two genres, or three if you separate horror out from science fiction and fantasy), at least since the election meant I wasn't on edge for weeks thinking about politics. Anyway:


The Brooch of Adaean, a magic talisman from Alexander's 'The Black Cauldron,' that

Why Jackson's 'Lord of the Rings' sucks. Hard. A partial installment

On this subject I am filled with a depthless, inhuman hatred of the type I normally reserve for Republican tax policy and Sanchos. But let's face it: the 'Lord of the Rings' films are so grossly overrated it's ridiculous. Their better parts are crude caricature of good fantasy and good character writing, and their worse parts transpose the modern world and poor visual effects onto one of the more prototypical stories of modern fantasy literature.

Perhaps the simplest (if possibly somewhat pretentious) explanation is that as someone who grew up reading truly vast amounts of (often fairly nuanced and intelligent) high fantasy (also actual medieval) literature, of which Tolkien is only one example, not the progenitor, what seemed sort of new and exciting to others in those movies felt pretty half-assed and crudely stereotyped to me. When not deviating entirely from both the medieval idealizing and mythic fantasy of the source material in order to add staples of entertainment film like comic relief, vulgarity and the cheap horror which is actually Jackson's wheelhouse, the films seem to me to drop the more nuanced or distinctive parts of the genre and characters, and replace them with market-tested stuff someone thought would make the film accessible to a broad audience (the films are distinct in the way they drop a lot of Tolkien's characters for more modern film types; Tolkien's Aragorn, who, while admittedly not my favorite in the books, (he's honestly kind of boring, though less so than Jackson's)-- is very much the uncorrupted, idealized medieval lord of an old bloodline, a sleeper king in ranger's cloth, very wise and self-aware, is replaced in the films by some very modern, angsty dude with the same name but no family resemblance, a guy who makes fun of his war comrade behind that man's back, (while flirting), has a generic anti-establishment sarcastic attitude, and, in a rather tired character arc, has to be convinced by Elrond to take his place as a leader of men--basically a modern type dropped into Middle Earth in a tunic and boots and a sword in a back-sling).

I don't actually care, on principle, that they changed Tolkien's shit--just when they replace his better material with the stuff of low comedy, schlocky horror and shallow characterization, all of which cut against the almost impossibly epic storyline and the nature of the genre. I also care, to a lesser extent, when the filmmakers don't follow the obvious cues about the differences between the medievalized world and our own, which are part of the point of following the story, and part of what makes interesting the worlds of Tolkien and his ilk (i.e. medieval armies, especially orc ones, do not wear uniforms or assemble in highly organized battle formations--that stuff is exclusive to modern warfare and (and, to a limited extent, a few ancient states such as Rome). I generally find it hypocritical that, despite all the hype they generated about their attentiveness to hand-made detail and the creation of a different world, they didn't bother to do even very limited research into, say, medieval war or ways of life, of the sort that would have prevented exactly this transposition of modernity onto the medievalization of the 'imagined reality' which is half of the very heart of the modern fantasy genre. I may be putting words into someone's mouth, but I wouldn't be surprised if Mr. Van Dyke was in part irritated by this sort of thing also.

Besides that, all sorts of things about the film-making are surprisingly shoddy: the editing (the shield Legolas throws in front of himself, then jumps on as it slides up from behind him), the props (the orcish bow at the CLIMAX of 'Fellowship' which quite obviously has absolutely no tension on the string being pulled by the monstrous Urukhai as he prepares to kill our hero(es)), the costumes (many of which were carbon copies of another, as though middle earth took place during the age of mechanical reproduction and interchangable parts) and the effects (Christopher Lee watching in horror as his empire in Isengard is destroyed by a three-foot high waterfall sweeping away some four-inch high models; 'Superman' is the only other major film with a comparably bad water sequence, and it actually takes a lot of shit for it, despite being made on much more limited resources. And, you know, in 1978. But for some reason it's okay in 'TTT'). I have no idea why Jackson got a free pass on all that garbage-quality film-making. The acting and characterization also generally lacked much nuance (though the fault here is clearly more in the screenwriting than in the actors, who honestly didn't have much to work with and have done good work in other places, Elijah Wood possibly excepted). ...So far as I'm aware, there are relatively few comparable flaws in pieces like 'Avatar' or the original 'Star Wars' films--especially 'Star Wars', even though those were much more limited, budget and effects-wise. ...Admittedly, Cameron was basically allowed to swim in a sea of money for his latest creation, which cost about as much as all three Jackson films combined, and that fact has certain salutary effects (though I'd note that 'The Terminator,' shot on a 6.4 million dollar budget, holds up a lot better in terms of film-making craft, once money is taken into account, than anything Jackson's ever done, so...fuck all.

Also, none of Cameron's films have five different endings in a single edit, none of which even fulfill their avowed aim (i.e. the excuse for their redundance) of giving the audience some sense of resolution regarding the films' characters.

I'm just going to stop talking, now. But Jackson can make me revise my opinion by producing a version of 'The Hobbit' (which, let's be honest, is a better work than 'The Lord of the Rings' anyway) that's better than its live-action predecessor. It shouldn't be hard. The cheap, animated Bass-Rankin version of the book got most of the important points despite being pasted together from children's drawings animated at about four frames per second.

Lloyd Alexander's The High King: The Return of the Magical?

A thought, and a challenge to 'The Doom that Came,' the avuncular and popular blog that focuses on speculative fiction literature:

In a recent (cough: October 2011) entry, Doom extolled the virtues of Lloyd Alexander's beloved fantasy quintology (if that is the word, or at least a word) for children 'The Chronicles of Prydain,' a fantasy series second only to 'The Chronicles of Narnia' in prestige among the genre, and probably first in quality (much love to CS Lewis for being a pathbreaker in children's fantasy, but he had some substantial limitations as a writer which Alexander did not share), in particular its first volume: The Book of Three. Among other things, Doom noted the exceptional magical content of this first volume was not shared by its successors:

"One major reason that my opinion of The Book of Three varies so much, from one reading to the next, is that the book is quite different from the others.  There’s much more magic about, and this makes the whole atmosphere of Prydain feel different.  Both Gwydion and Eilonwy cast magical spells in the first book, something the prince of Don never does again and the princess of Llyr never again of her own volition.  When Gwydion later resists the tortures of an evil enchantress, he gains the power to smash aside the walls of his prison and then to speak with animals.  Another mighty castle, once the seat of Prydain’s kings, is thrown down into flinders by a massive explosion when the holy sword that lay immured beneath it is stolen.  In fact, much of the book reads like a (rather action-packed) travelogue, as the main characters visit the evil queen’s doomed castle, the valley where Medwyn lives and which only animals may ordinarily enter, the underground realm of the Fair Folk, and finally the golden castle of the Sons of Don.  In a way, the reader is introduced to all the wonders of the land, side by side with the protagonists.  But when they revisit that same land in their later adventures, it often seems much less magical, and the magic they do encounter is less awesome, sometimes even tawdry."

The whole thing can be read here:
http://doomthatcame.wordpress.com/2011/10/19/the-book-of-three/

My question is simple (HUGE SPOILER ALERT). I haven't read one of these books in at least fifteen years, though often enough before that. But doesn't 'The High King,' the pentology's (maybe that's the word) last volume mark a partial return to the more overtly magical nature of the first volume? Partly this is to be expected: four books of development pay dividends in the final volume, and these returns are in part magical and metaphysical. Nevertheless, don't we see Dyrnwyn, perhaps modern fantasy's prototypical flaming magic sword, do wonders once again? Don't the animals who led our protagonists to Medwyn's hidden valley in the first book return to 'take vengeance' against the evil Huntsmen of Annwvin' (spelling) when the latter are pushed into a tough spot? Doesn't dark turn to day (through magic means), and the iron crown of Annwvin burn through the skull of a pretender king? Don't the immortal fates show their true form, doesn't a book strike down a man with fire, and a deathless race meet their match?

All this must be measured against the nature of the book's conclusion (side-note, Alexander writes better endings than anyone), which cuts against magic continuing, and involves the Fair(y) Folk closing their doors forever. But I'd be interested to see any response Doom That Came has on these or other scores.