Bad Joke

Wafers-

Very good discussion on previous thread. What I wish to add is this: in all of the predictions I've made about the coming collapse of America, starting with the Twilight book in 2000, the one scenario I never anticipated was that the country would disintegrate in a bad joke. Trump may be a horror, but he's also funny. The same may be said of the absurd 'insurrection' of Jan. 6. There is something hilarious about it all, imo. T.S. Eliot wrote that the world would end with a whimper, not with a bang. But neither he nor I ever said that it would end with a joke. Yet there it is, for all to see. And while I think our allies view the events of Jan. 6 as tragic and/or outrageous, I also think they, as well as our enemies, have come to an additional conclusion: the US is silly. It's a frivolous country, and is no longer to be taken seriously, except as a rogue state that has its head wedged in its rump. Which would, of course, be a correct assessment.

-mb

413

Well, Waferinos, let me wish you all a Happy New Year. We will flush out Trumpi, but don't despair: Trumpism lives on. Can 74 million voters be wrong? Grover Cleveland made a comeback after 4 yrs of being out of the presidency, and it's an even bet that Trumpalumpi will do the same. But with or without the World's Greatest Douche Bag (WGDB), a Jackass Like No Other (JLNO), America will continue its downward spiral. Years ago, I predicted that this wd be the crucial decade, and it is now upon us. Stupidity, of course, is a significant factor in all this; and when I see the progs in ecstasy over Biden's wonderful diverse appointments, unable to recognize that in substantive terms this changes nothing, I have a warm, fuzzy feeling. Maybe you do as well.

Meanwhile, this blog soldiers on. By now all of you are aware of the problems I'm having, accessing it from Internet cafes. I will do my best to figure out a solution, as being able to run it only 12 days a month wd be a terrible defeat. After all, where else, in the English language, at least, can one go to discuss what is really going on in America, as opposed to the Disney fantasies offered by other media and outlets?

So stay safe and healthy in 2021, and together we can watch the America follies play out.

-mb

412

Well, Wafers, I'm still working on Part II, but it's a struggle. E.g., I fall into Kim's anus like Alice down the rabbit hole; during my descent, I pass by Tulsi, Ging (Newtrich), Dan Quayle, and other illuminati, including a cluster of Karens; and at last have lunch with Meghan Markle, who is wearing a very chic hat, but who bores me to death. I dunno; I think I may be losing my creative edge.

Anyway, we've had some good discussion up to now, watching Trumpi embarrass himself, the bubbas strutting around (impotently), and the vaccine finally making an appearance as thousands of Americans continue to die. I think this virus is going to be a life-changer; it may never be over, and it could well mutate into more virulent forms. Everyone in a mask: it looks like a scene in a dystopian sci-fi movie. And then literally millions of Americans living in an alternative reality, guaranteeing that the country has no real future. Older Wafers scratch their heads, wondering what happened to the US of their childhood, while savvy younger Wafers are clued to staying outside of the Matrix. Fun times, eh?

-mb

Crossing the Rectal Divide (Part I)

It's a recurring dream, and it refuses to go away. I have it every three or four weeks. In the dream, I'm dining alone in some fancy restaurant, and suddenly begin to beat on a plate with a soup spoon, while chanting, "Americans are degraded and debased!" As I get louder and louder, the waiter, who happens to be Indian, comes over to me.

"I'm sorry, sir, but you are disturbing the other customers. I actually agree with you: Americans are a sorry lot. But I have to ask you to keep it down, and not use a spoon." To which I reply: "The dregs of humanity!" This comes out as a shriek. "Can I offer you a bowl of cheddies?" he asks me.

"Why do you Indians always say 'cheddies'? It's cherries, for heaven's sake."

"Yes sir, I know," he replies. "We can't help it; it just comes out that way. Even Gandhi said 'cheddies'. 'Life is not a bowl of cheddies', he always used to say. Anyway, I think you'll find them veddy soothing."

Meanwhile, the owner of the place calls the local mental institution; the medics arrive in a white van, put me in a straight jacket, and cart me off to the Happy Valley Lunatic Asylum. I continue screaming; they put me in a rubber-lined room, so I can't hurt myself. The door opens, and the resident psychiatrist, Dr. Ludwig von Schmaltzkopf, comes in and sits down. I'm lying on the floor, exhausted.

"Mr. Lokshen Kugel," he says; "I agree with you: the country consists of 330 million putzes. 'Dolts' is too mild a word for them. But you cannot go around yelling this in upscale restaurants. The putzes will get annoyed. Do you understand me?"

"But who will tell them?" I counter.

"Not you, Mr. Kugel. Try writing a letter to the Times instead, OK?"

"But the Times consists of putzes," I reply. At this point I wake up, sweating and breathing heavily. My wife stirs in her sleep.

"Lokshen, honey," she says; "did you have your America dream again?" I nod.

"Lokshen, you can't go on being a one-man anti-asshole crusade. Time you went to see a shrink."

"They'll just give me pills," I tell her. "That won't solve anything."

"It might stop you from having this ridiculous dream," she suggests. "Why don't you just confine yourself to writing your study of Kim Kardashian's buttocks, Crossing the Rectal Divide?"

"I've hit a brick wall with that. I can't cross the divide, so to speak, until I actually examine Kim's anus, see what's going on in there. I wrote her, explaining the project, and asking if we could set up an appointment, but she never wrote back. Meanwhile, my dream is the only thing keeping me going, the only inspiration I have left."

"It's also making you ill," says Sophie. "Why not just fly to LA, and pay Kim a visit. Who knows? Maybe she'll drop her pants. Then you might solve the problem of Americans being assholes by examining an actual American asshole."

My eyebrows go up. "Who's crazy now?" I ask her.

"I'm just trying to get you to lighten up. It's either that or the loony bin, for real." She sighs. "You could also drop in on Meghan Markle, ask her why she thinks Americans are preoccupied with her and her stupid hats. I mean, beyond the fact that they are morons. Americans, I mean, not the hats," she adds.

"A hat can't be a moron," I tell her.

"No, but it can be moronic, which means that Meghan hat-worshippers are morons."

"Why would people worship a hat?" I ask.

"Oh, they think that if they wear a Meghan hat, the hat energy will rub off on them, and they'll be like British royalty. By the same token, if you publish your book and include photos of Kim's anus, you'll sell millions of copies. We'll be rich, and we can relocate to the French Riviera."

"But what if people start to fetishize me, chase me down the street hoping to tear off my T-shirt, or even my pants?"

"Lokshen, I think we may be getting a bit ahead of ourselves. For now, concentrate on your book, and have Dr. Flanksteak give you a pill." Always so helpful, my Sophie.

I booked a flight to LA, also bought a speculum, a flashlight, and a large tube of KY jelly. I'm going to get to the bottom of this, I told myself.

I knocked on the door of Kim's mansion. Kanye West opened it. "Hey dude, wassup?"

"I just want to say how sorry I am that you weren't elected president," I tell him, squelching the desire to add that he looked like a complete buffoon. This is an American idol? I thought to myself. No wonder the country is going down the drain.

"No sweat, amigo; el Señor Trump just made me his homie."

"Wow, that's great!" I reply. "Exactly what does that entail?"

"Oh, I just hafta tell everyone that Biden stole the election. No big deal. But why are you carrying a speculum, a flashlight, and a tube of KY?"

"I'm here to inspect your wife's anus," I tell him, smiling rather dementedly.

"Far out! Hey Kimmie, get that big booty of yours over here. There's some white boy here, wants to have a look at the Royal Asshole." She comes to the door.

"Kanye," she says, "once and for all: you're the Royal Asshole. Unless maybe it's Meghan Markle."

"Ms. Kardashian," I interject, "I'm honored. Could we repair to your bedroom?"

"'Repair'?" she exclaims. "Jesus, you white boys sure talk funny."

"True," I reply, "but then we voted for Trump, and Kanye is now his homie. So let me play that funky music."

"All right," she says; "let me drop my pants so we can get this over with. What are you looking for, anyway?"

"America," I tell her.

"Well, Kugel-face, you've definitely come to the right place. You won't hafta dig very deep, either."

(To be continued)

410

Wafers-

Well, that last thread had a lot of good discussion in it. Now, we can continue our analysis of the theater of the absurd, i.e. American politics. The nation is broken in two, and each part refuses to recognize the presidency of the other part. More than 70 million people, apparently, regarded Obama as illegitimate--the whole "birther" business fomented by Trumpaloni. So when the latter squeaked through on razor-edge margins in 2016, he was never given a chance by the other 70+ million Americans. Granted, he is an awful human being--perhaps one of the most awful in the history of humanity--but he was legitimately elected, and from Day 1 the Dems went to work to discredit that election: impeachment, plus daily attacks in the press (items normally reserved for the editorial page were now on the front page--opinion as "news"). Of course, Trumpi did himself in with his botching of the covid crisis, and his callousness toward George Floyd and black people in general; but nevertheless, the Dems took their gloves off and went for the jugular. In that sense, although his claims of voter fraud this election are completely farcical, I can sympathize with the poor douche bag: of course he wants to instil in the public mind, his base in particular, that this election got stolen. Joe Biden's call for unity sounds heartwarming, but the reality is that again, 70 million Americans will regard his presidency as illegitimate. Sure, it would be great if he can get a handle on the virus, on climate change, and on racism; but the bottom line is that the country is a broken political entity, like Humpty Dumpty, and I can't see the king's horses or men being able to put it together again.

Of course, from a declinist point of view, it's just as well. I've suggested before that the American empire can collapse via a number of different scenarios, and fascism was certainly one route. If we have now averted that, there is a more likely scenario on deck: we just tear ourselves apart, and continue to do so until secession becomes the obvious solution. Whether that will generate a better world than the one we have now is anyone's guess, but what I do predict is that the world will regard America with pity--as politically irrelevant. I think it was David Susskind who once remarked (rather unkindly) that Canada was "a large, snow-covered land limping toward anonymity." Leaving the snow aside, that might be more our fate than Canada's.

Anyway, I'm looking forward to this new thread.

-mb

Of Size and Scale

Wafers-

While we're waiting for Schmiden to win and Trumpi's absurd lawsuits to crash and burn, I thought I might provide a bit of intellectual diversion. As follows:

Beyond right and wrong there is a field; I'll meet you there. --Yalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī

A short while ago, someone sent a message to this blog, in which he voiced his concern that communism was threatening to take over America and the West. For me, it was like listening to Rip Van Winkle, who had fallen asleep for 30+ years and woke up thinking that Ronald Reagan was president. But it got me reflecting on the danger--not of communism or capitalism per se--but of size. It could be that the real problem with the Russian empire, or the American one, was the word "empire." In other words, it was not about ideology as much as the scale of the enterprise. After all, if we are talking about modern industrial societies, the most successful ones on the planet would appear to be the Scandanavian countries, which keep both socialism and capitalism in check by means of a mixed economy.

Another way of saying this was posed many years ago by the American anthropologist Richard Schweder, who suggested that most ideologies were functional or viable within limits. There is, however (he went on to say), a perverse tendency to always go overboard; to go to extremes. One thinks, for example, of the political correctness movement, which has become intolerant of any dissenting opinions to the point that it has acquired some of the characteristics of the fascist groups it opposes. Or as I wrote in the wake of 8 November 2016 (see Essay #15 of Are We There Yet?), how its extremism finally provoked the backlash that put Donald Trump into office.

As far as socialism goes, it does, as noted above, seem to work in controlled contexts, such as the Scandanavian countries. Modified socialism, as it were. But apply it on a vast scale, as in the case of the former Soviet Union, and you wind up with totalitarianism--Arthur Koestler's Darkness at Noon. (Of course, Russia has been autocratic for something like a thousand years, long before the Bolshevik revolution; but that's a whole other discussion.) As for capitalism, a similar argument was made by Richard Powers in his brilliant novel Gain, which is a condemnation of the scope of hustling, not of hustling per se (we all have to make a living). In the novel, in the late eighteenth century, two brothers open a soap-and-candle shop on the Boston docks. It proves to be very successful, so much so that 200 years later it has evolved into a huge pharmaceutical conglomerate, poisoning rivers and giving the folks who live near them cancer. The point is obvious.

It's also about religion, in the broad sense of the term. Whether Left or Right, it is easy for people to get caught up in abstractions, and lay waste to everything around them as a result. We see this clearly in that remarkable TV series, The Americans, in which two Soviet agents living in the United States (played by Matthew Rhys and Keri Russell) so blindly follow orders from Moscow that they murder one "enemy" after another (most of them innocent) for the sake of The Cause, until at the end, with Gorbachev emerging as a challenge to the Kremlin's old guard, they have to confront the fact that their lives have been meaningless, a gigantic illusion. On the capitalist side, we have millions slavishly pursuing the supposedly endless expansion of the American Dream, which, after a certain point, also issues out in meaninglessness. (I recall David Brooks, a few years back, writing about how, despite having a $4-million apartment in Manhattan and celebrity status as a New York Times columnist, he was depressed. Gee, what a surprise!)

The sad fact is that the number of political writers who realized the crucial importance of not getting seduced by an ideology--not going "whole hog," as it were--is pitifully small: Koestler, Camus, Orwell, Eric Hoffer (The True Believer), and the American monk Thomas Merton, among others. Koestler's word for this fanaticism or fundamentalism was "devotion," a word with obvious religious overtones; and toward the end of his life he suggested that the only hope for the human race was that scientists develop a pill to combat it. Which does raise the question of the psychological dimensions of the phenomenon. (More on this in a moment)

The Scandanavian example does point to an important post-imperial possibility (although China has certainly failed to get the message): decentralization. Alternative politics can emerge with the breakup of empires, although the post-Soviet collapse led to a great deal of regional brutality. America, too, will (I believe) have its own secessionist breakup, probably within two or three decades, or even less; yet it is not likely that these new independent states will be able to shed the narcissism and competitive individualism that seems to be woven into the American DNA. E.F. Schumacher notwithstanding, small is not in and of itself necessarily beautiful.

I go beyond the issue of decentralization in the second story of my recent short story collection, The Heart of the Matter, which is also called by the same name. Whom might we look to for sensible political alternatives? In that story, I suggest John Ruskin, William Morris, Gandhi, Lewis Mumford, and Ernest Callenbach as guides to a reasonable future, although, as we might expect, they have to date been dismissed as "quaint" or utopian. All of these writers were in favor of decentralization, but they saw something equally important, in addition: the necessity of inner peace, of balance, of a human consciousnss that was not endlessly self-aggrandizing. "The spirit of our days," wrote William Morris, "has to be delight in the life of the world." Hard to disagree.

This brings us to the psychological aspect of the problem. There is, in fact, a sixth writer we need to consider, namly the much-maligned Italian thinker, Niccolò Machiavelli. As I argue in Genio: The Sources of Italian Genius, Machiavelli has been badly misunderstood. Beneath the level of political opportunism--which he certainly did advocate for princes--there is a deeper level that transcends Left and Right, and that is the opposition of ego vs. decency. I do believe that if we are to have any future at all, as a human race, it is going to have to be green, sustainable, and decentralized, containing elements of both capitalism and socialism, and free of the ideology of "growth." But these are necessary conditions, not sufficient ones. For enlisted in the service of ego, these things can also turn into "religions." (If you've ever met a Green fundamentalist, you know what I'm talking about.) Machiavelli understood that in the real world--the world of rulers and their subjects--it was ego that prevailed; but what kind of world was that, finally? The man was no buddhist, but he did see that in order to evolve toward decency, the ego had to become aware of what it was doing, and why; to acquire self-transparency, in a word. As James Joyce famously put it, "History is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake." Waking up: this is the long road ahead.

(c)Morris Berman, 2020