The Convention souvenir show
“I’m so bored. I hate my life.” - Britney Spears
Das Langweilige ist interessant geworden, weil das Interessante angefangen hat langweilig zu werden. – Thomas Mann
"Never for money/always for love" - The Talking Heads
Thursday, April 14, 2022
The convention souvenir show
Monday, April 11, 2022
The election in France and Marx's journalism
The NYT coverage of the French election - entrusted to the shaky hands of that stalwart neo-lib, Roger Cohen - has been predictably awful. It has not reached, yet, the glorious bottom plumbed by the Times in the 00s, when its crack foreign correspondents in Iraq focused pretty much centrally on Chalabi in the election of 2005 - only to see Chalabi garner a big one percent of the vote total.
Sunday, April 10, 2022
macron: same old same old
Same old, same old. Macron's little ruse - taking the air out of the election by not campaigning - worked. He got the opponent he wanted. So a man who is really disliked, personally and politically, has taken the presidency of France twice. One of the unexpected results of a second round election is it elevates minority candidates. Macron's first round result - 28 percent - is a real gauge of his popularity. It is now an election between a toxic dump and a nuclear reactor accident.
Saturday, April 09, 2022
Macron, too clever by half, and oh so dislikeable
The garbage analyses of the French election in the Anglo press are predictable - and silly. Le Pen is the opponent Macron wants and needs - he himself is a much disliked man, with at best a 30-35 percent base. Le Pen is a candidate who is almost stamped loser - she is even more disliked than Macron. In this election, Macron has run by being above it all, to avoid the flops that happened in his first run, like the debate among the candidates where he was easily bested by Melanchon.
So, how to get re-elected as a rather disagreeable individual peddling "reforms" that have polled, forever, to be against the desires of the electorate? The best chance is to campaign so as to let the next candidate, Le Pen, with her solid 20 percent, have plenty of room to top the list of runners up. Which is exactly what he has done.
His aids and fans in the press - and one thing about Macron is, his most ardent fans, Macronie central, are in the press - have floated the story that, preoccupied by Ukraine, our man just didn't have time to run - he's busy saving the ship of state!
Macronie, that diverse spectrum - from stockbroker to arms dealer - perhaps buy this. But it does not gull the French electorate. They can smell the disdain. Which might be his undoing. A man who so visibly dislikes French workers in both the private and public sectors, with at little more for the latter, might have overstretched in his cleverness. Certainly I can't be the only one who plans to vote in the first round and, if my candidate, Melanchon, doesn't make it, abstain in the second round.I see no reason to vote for one of two public nuisances.
an allegory of politics
I am not a great fan of the left-right distinction. The reason is not that my “opinions” don’t fit within it – the reason is that its very grounding, in opinion, and not in practice, is a right tending structure. As a right-tending structure, it finds the end of politics is in voting, and the end of ideology is in arguments over the dinner table. Far be it from me to diss arguments over the dinner table – I was raised among them! – but politics and one’s leftness or rightness is as much a matter of practices. Many of those practices are embedded in situations that severely limit one’s degree of freedom. If I administer a workforce or invest in a 401K or do any of the innumerable things that constitute living a middle class lifestyle, that style is going to chose my politics much more than I am going to chose it. Which means that saying whether I tend “left” or “right” is a matter of existential analysis, more than a survey question about who I think is a greater human being, Donald Trump or Batman. That analysis is both of one’s choices and of the structures in which one is embedded without them necessarily being responsive to one’s choices. To choose to use less plastic, for instance, is a nice healthy practice, personally, but is likely to have zero effect on the sum total of plastic in the world. A conservative engineer who discovers, purely for profit, a less ecologically intrusive substitute for plastic would be objectively a much greater environmentalist, in spite of everything he or she thinks.
The way such a substitute
would spread out in the world would, of course, depend on other objective structures
that are “left” or “right” – and so on.
Tomorrow I am going to
vote for a leftis . This is a very very minor political act. As I grow older, I
become much more pessimistic about the meaning of such things; in America, even
when I have voted for winners, they turned out – as I should have known they
would – into net losers in relation to my “opinions.”
Opinions are
epiphenomenal. Spinoza wrote that a thrown stone, if it could think, would
think it was arcing through the air of its own free will. That’s a political
allegory.
Wednesday, April 06, 2022
Mirror violence - from Bucha to Fallujah to Grozny
In William Everdell’s the First Moderns,the author explores and extends the notion of the modern by exploring the “vortices” of modernization, the various conjunctions of theory and practice not only in the obvious places, the big metropoles, but on the periphery. And, indeed, even in the metropoles modernization was a negotiation between outliers and the establishment. One of the monuments of the modern, a triumph of modernist architecture with form totally following function Everdell claims, was invented by Weyler y Nicolau, the Spanish overseer of Cuba: the concentration camp. Or campos de reconcentraciòn, as he named them.
Monday, April 04, 2022
Bored
Spirit
enough to be bored — Whoever doesn’t have enough spirit to be able to find
himself and his work boring is certainly not a spirit of the first rank, be it
in the arts or sciences. A satirist who was, unusually, also a thinker, could
add to this, taking a look at the world and history: God must not have had this
spirit: he wanted to make and did make things, collectively, too interesting.”
– Nietzsche, Human all too H.
I am unsure about the jab at God at the end of Nietzsche’s
bit here, but every writer knows the
moment that comes upon him like negative inspiration, when he detaches and to
find himself and his work boring. That’s the moment that Bely cuts his
masterpiece, Petersburg, by a third; that may be the moment when Rimbaud said
fuck it, although I am too little devil or angel to venture there into that
affair. However, I’ve been pondering the economist’s version of happiness and
their refusal to understand the intricate dance between repletion and boredom. Economists
are so fucking weird because they combine the most sophisticated mathematical
models with psychological insights that would shame a ten year old. It is all
about not only licking a lollypop, but doing it forever and ever, and getting
everybody’s lollypop to lick. It is a gross and unrealistic view of happiness
that leaves out of the picture the mysteries of happiness which supposedly found not only the normative
aspect of the system, but the incentive structure inside it. I suspect
economists are so enthusiastic about growth not so much because growth is a
good in itself, but because it perpetually puts off the question: what is the
system for? And, of course, even Marxist economists will edge out of the room
once you start pondering the many dimensions of alienation. Economics is really
not the dismal science, but the clubbish science – and in clubs, it doesn’t do
to pose such questions. They are so easily answered by dinner, especially if
dinner includes port.
Now, in my flaming youth, amongst me and my pals, boredom
was our mark of Cain – it was the boredom generated by capitalism that we were
against. We tended to be big supporters of the situationists, without really
having a vast or even a tiny little knowledge of them more than they pissed
people off, and the autonomen, because we loved the autonomen boldness, the
kicking ass, the taking over of buildings people weren't using, the contempt
for the Polizei. This sounded like the shit to us, even though we heard
overtones of peasant hut nostalgia in some of the way these micro-utopias
turned out, with the holding hands and weaving or something and nothing that
actually, after a while, wasn’t… boring. We liked, instead, the via negativa,
through pure abjection, following the downward path of Bataille. It was all “we’re so pretty, oh so pretty” with a sneer.
However, although it was quite the enemy, boredom
was never really an issue, an affair, an object of thought. It wasn’t until we
began to take writing seriously, and tried to write fiction, that boredom
became interesting as a test. Boredom, after all, is always there guarding the path
of inquiry into meaning and purpose – it has sphinx like properties. I often
feel that at the heart of bourgeois vacuity is all the ways that are
constructed to avoid boredom’s riddle.
A vanishing act: repressive desublimation and the NYT
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