Monday, July 23, 2018

an Ethan Hein post that I wrote about has gone missing, the one about John Cage

Over the last seven years the various times in which I blogged about something and linked to content that vanished "normally" was something that I quoted in the media archives of Mars Hill, often something published with Mark Driscoll's name attached, that might vanish within days of a commentary I made using statements made in the Driscoll media.  As mark Drsicoll Ministries has kept moving forward some of those sermons reappear but substantially redacted so that large swaths of material I quoted from their originally published forms has been removed.
 
I haven't run into cases most o fthe time in which I reference a blog post on the topic of music that is up one month and gone the next.  But, sometimes, it happens.
 
Here was the blog post I wrote.
 
 
This was the blog post I was writing about that is now gone
 
This is the cached form of the page.
 
or ..
 
 
There was a direction some comments were going in as discussion went along I could sort of appreciate but didn't quite agree with.  Naomi had comments about the latently racist element of Cage's rejection of popular African American musical styles.  Cage was dismissive toward jazz throughout his life.  I am less certain that was indicative of Cage being a racist, not that I can establish that Cage was or wasn't racist because 1) I'm not a big Cage fan and 2) I'm certainly not a Cage scholar.   With those caveats out of the way I am still not convinced that the default mode we should take in criticizing Cage's dismissive views of popular music in general and jazz in particular should be construed through racial narratives.
 
What if, for instance, John Cage was a highbrow snob who disliked popular music because he distrusted commercial music regardless of skin color issues?  Cage could have been a snob who just didn't like pop music.  To put things another way, Cage may not have made it into the canon in his life but to invoke criticisms from Maoists like Cardew it isn't hard to imagine a criticism of Cage proceeding from a question about what class he served.  To be simple about it, Cage may not have disliked pop music because of racial issues but because he was having to cater to or pander to a patronage class and if that class had no use for popular musical styles Cage could ill afford to just declare that anything went, i.e. anything goes so far as using as much popular musical materials as you want. 
 
For instance ... :
 
naomi says:
Cage’s rejection of/lack of interest in black/african-diaspora musical traditions is an unfortunate blind spot given his own aesthetic interests. For ex. some of the later Coltrane stuff, such as Meditations & Ascension, or Coleman Free Jazz & so on, is just as rigorously constructed, experimental, & sonically grating (or “disinterested in the listener” or whatever) as anything Cage ever wrote. And Cage was not that invested in the classical music world either, which didn’t take him seriously during his lifetime. But his social circles were very much “high art”, specifically the fine arts—Rauschenberg, Rothko, Pollock, Duchamp et al—and he is taken much more seriously within the fine arts even today (there are drawings by Cage in art galleries around the world). That entire distinction between high and low art and all its latent white supremacy is therefore something he had to cling to to remain part of his community. Which is also unfortunate for musicians & listeners…. a Cage + Ornette collaboration would have been something to hear.

Also that’s fair enough re McClary—I didn’t read this specific article, but it’s a reasonable argument to make. I generally like her work, and appreciate her tireless trolling of the established academy, which has felled many a musicologist who, whilst attempting to retort angrily to her, revealed himself as an inveterate racist or sexist or homophobe et cetera >.>
 
Having linked to an article on sumptuary codes and online debates about cultural appropriation, it's not really a surprise if I suggest that I think what Cage did was more indicative of elitism or class vetting than a white supremacist thing.  High and low distinctions are not that hard to find in non-white cultures.  The caste system in India springs to mind.  For that matter the tiered status categories of pacific Northwest Indians springs to mind.
 
Nor does it seem to hold good that invoking a high low divide in which folk or popular art being distinct from high/classical art applies exclusively to whatever "white" culture is supposed to be.  Traditional Thai music (i.e. "classical" Thai music) can't be construed as defaulting to white supremacist ideology.  Since I've been reading up a bit here and there on Pacific Northwest Native American cultures and practices in the last few years strict rules about who can and can't perform X or Y song, or even hear it, doesn't have to have anything at all to do with latent or even explicit white supremacy.  I find it slightly annoying that contemporary scholarly discourse so swiftly defaults in some circles to assumptions that high/low distinctions might default to white supremacist views.  Maybe in some cases, sure, but the defaults taken up in online discourse have me doubting whether it's good to have such a literally and figuratively black and white set of polarities on these topics.   I'm not sure I buy a number of claims common in what seems to be the new musicology any more than I buy defensive claims made by "modernists" or even "traditionalists".
 
Since I mentioned Pacific Northwest Native American cultures on the topic of songs and who could hear them ...
 
When Dr. Ida Halpern recorded Pacific Northwest tribal songs she could establish that chiefs and others in the tribes owned slaves and could note that Pacific Northwest tribes had some strict rules about who could hear songs and share songs.  It was when the men and women who knew the songs realized the younger generation didn't want to learn the songs and that these songs would die with the generation that knew them that they agreed to work with Halpern to record the songs for posterity.  We can't forget at any step of that process that these were, within tribal terms, people of high status or, if you will, kinds of aristocrats. 
 
The assertion that high and low art has latent white supremacy might make some kind of sense if we only confined ourselves to a particular era of European history but, honestly, I don't take as given that high/low dualisms are latently white supremacist.  There can be dualisms about what music is appropriate to sing in church or a bar and fans of African American music may not need much reminding about how within African American music some music was considered inappropriate to sing for those who sought to spend a lot of time singing in churches.  That hardly means Son House or Charley Patton couldn't (let alone didn't!) record both sacred and secular song.  Breaching previously observed prohibitions about what was and wasn't appropriate to record or perform in the wake of new technological advances in recording and presenting music has been with us for millennia. 
 
It's possible to argue that Cage was too committed as a matter of branding and public relations to taking a low view of popular musical culture as part of catering to his patronage base without simultaneously insisting that this had to indicate racism on Cage's part at an implicit level; it is also not necessary to invoke latent white supremacist views for Cage's patronage base.  Some of them may well have been white supremacists but there are plenty of other ways to find fault with Cage without invoking statements of presumed white supremacism.  Xenakis' complaint about aleatory and indeterminacy was couched in terms of pointing out that your improvisers or going to improvise what they already know.  A Charles Mingus variation might be that you can't improvise on nothing, you're going to improvise on something. 
 
Now I did read the Lewis article Ethan linked to and it was an interesting read.  The definitions for Afrological and Eurological are much narrower and time-specific than online reactions tended to convey.  What sticks with me is that Cage comes across as though he was loathe to call improvisation improvisation as a point of class rather than race but it's a fair question why Cage and his associates seized upon aleatory and indeterminacy when they could have used the term "improvisation".  The arguments that improvisation in jazz was based on permutations of existing lexicons of formal and gestural clichés doesn't convince me.  I enjoy too much Baroque music to buy that kind of line.  Inventively manipulating conventions and received riffs is too central to the entire span of Baroque music for me to see a reason to drop that, and a similar observation can be made about jazz ... but partisans for one or the other style or era can tend to dig down into established critical/scholarly narratives in a way I just don't feel any obligation to do myself. 
 
Cage, however, did seem to find some necessity for using terms like aleatory and indeterminacy rather than improvisation.  Improvisation might be freighted with the baggage of being done within the context of an identifiable style.  Cage and others may have been committed to the old Romantic trope of tearing up the rulebook and figuring things out.  I've never been interested in tearing up rulebooks myself.   
 
The more I study music the more I get the sense that when 19th century pedagogues said what the guidelines were before admonishing students to not feel beholden to the rules there was a scholarly double bind at play.  On the one hand there were rules laid down as to what a good sonata was or what a good fugue was.  The presumption was that whatever Beethoven or Bach did was what was being conveyed ... though at this point jokes about the gap between what 19th century theorists prescribe and what J. S. Bach actually did are too numerous to need to do anything more than allude to.
 
On the other hand, artistic genius was held to be above pedantic rules and the genius was expected to break free of the conventions of scholasticism.  But the 19th century portrait of what musicians in the 18th century did was ... a bit skewed.  The rules that a student might be admonished to break were not necessarily rules that were laid down by 19th century composers or theorists so much as guidelines that emerged from within 19th century pedagogy.  Chopin could write what Hepokoski and Darcy called a Type 2 sonata in his B flat minor sonata and while contemporaries could sniff that he was too beholden to old school norms, didn't some consider the sonata too weird to make sense of it?  But that this "Type 2" sonata was, in fact, pretty normal can be established not just by reference to the famous Chopin sonata, a survey of early 19th century guitar sonatas shows that a Type 2 sonata form could show up as often as a "textbook Type 3 in Hepokoski and Darcy's taxonomy of sonata forms. 
 
Which is a roundabout way of saying that just because a range of scholars and writers think of Cage's disdain toward popular music reflected latent white supremacy is not a reason to consider that the case. If someone can prove from Cage's own writings that he was a white supremacist let them.  At the moment it seems we could propose that Cage was a snob and needed to be one based on the patronage class he needed to appeal to without getting anywhere near the idea that Cage or his patronage base were white supremacist as construed in 21st century scholastic or polemical terms.   
 
For my time and interest Coltrane and Coleman are way, way more fun to listen to than Cage!  Their work marks the end point for me in terms of the jazz I find fun to listen to.  I admire a lot of jazz from Armstrong up to Coltrane and Coleman and after that I, well, I really do like some George Russell stuff into the 1980s and 1990s but I guess I'd say that I couldn't get into Third Stream, Weather Report-type stuff and the Marsalis-type stuff.  If I had to think of some reason why that was it might simply be because by the 1970s and 1980s the boundaries between popular song and jazz as a self-identified art form became as non-negotiable and impermeable as the boundaries between "classical" music and popular song had already been for a generation or two.  A lot of what I love about a composer like Haydn, as I read the scholarship on his work and consider my own enjoyment of his music decade after decade, is that he treated the boundaries between "high" and "low" as more permeable than later theoreticians and music historians seemed willing to do with the rise of German idealism.
 
Which is a very roundabout way of my suggesting that we do a full frontal assault on German idealism rather than just assume that white supremacism is automatically involved. 
 
Cage as the apotheosis of Romantic ideology completely separated from any stereotypically Romantic musical sounds seems easy enough to establish but I figure I've probably written enough on this topic by now.  I don't have any complaints if people have complaints about Cage as composer or Cage as philosopher or Cage as musician but ... I do hope we can go back through contemporary criticisms of Cage to see that there were more ways to critique his work than a riff (however understandable, within a range of perspectives) that would say that Cage's dismissal of jazz reflected the latent white supremacism of "high" and "low". 
 
But then the whole post is gone from Hein's blog, just around the time I was finally getting around to writing some more thoughts about some things I agree and don't agree with about ways to proceed in criticizing Cage's stance on jazz.
 

it looks like the appeals court won't rehear Blurred Lines case, for those who kept tabs on this case

https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/thr-esq/blurred-lines-verdict-upheld-by-appeals-court-win-marvin-gaye-family-1096215

https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/thr-esq/appeals-court-wont-rehear-blurred-lines-case-1126253

It's been a while since I made any reference to this case.  I found myself not all that convinced that what was at stake for Thicke and Williams was whether or not a style can be copyrighted.  Looking at this as a guitarist who plays classical guitar I don't come to the debates around this case as someone who's making work that is in a genre where a super-majority of the available work is near or after 1970s copyright law changes.  Classical guitar has a huge body of work that is, very often, public domain.  Critical editions come along with notes about left and right hand indications but that is a point of editorial expression more than the ideas that are comprised by the notes on the page in handwritten manuscripts or engraved publications from the 19th century.  I.e. the ideas vs expression continuum hasn't gone away and for classical music the issues don't come up in the way they might more readily emerge in a style like hip hop or other popular styles.  The intellectual property issues for taking ideas published in scores by Sor or Giuliani and recomposing them into newer styles are not the same as a few musicians encountering allegations that they used Marvin Gaye's work to build a song. 

The more recent  statements from the court, as reported, mention that the issue of access could be considered comparatively moot in the case of work by Marvin Gaye.  To unpack that a tiny bit, in cases regarding plagiarism one of the things that has to be established is that the alleged infringer had access to the infringed work.  The court basically said that the bar was higher for a musician as famous as Gaye than it would be for someone far more obscure, which is to say that Gaye's music is sufficiently universal in terms of whether you or I might hear it in a store or a public space that the burden of proof that the defendants couldn't have heard Gaye's work is a bit heavier.


I have to admit I haven't felt all that bad for these guys.  I don't really like the song, now that I've finally heard it. 

But that Marvin Gaye's estate and lawyers could be seen as the bad guys in all this was an interesting discovery to make.  Does this throw a monkey wrench into some elements of debates about cultural appropriation?  Not sure that it does because I'm not sure the cultural appropriation debates are made ientirely in good or bad faith. 

Sunday, July 22, 2018

some dour thoughts on Helsinki and executive legitimacy and the legacy of the United States arranging for puppets and proxies ...

Because I've reached a point where I regard the United States as a kind of spent force in global power terms, a credit card that has been maxed out but has not yet had to pay its bills yet, the headlines about Russian hacking and the election hasn't exactly outraged me.  I don't think we were in a good spot in 2016 if the choice between the two parties was to vote for someone who could be described as a predator and someone who could be described as an enabler.  If anything the cumulative Clintonian legacy on foreign policy seems dangerously hawkish.  Even as someone who has self-identified as moderately conservative much of my life the Bill and Hillary Clinton legacy of bombing the former Yugoslavia or backing Gulf War 2 or the War on Terror ... I don't see that legacy as meaningfully separable from the neo-conservative militarism that, for a time, blue state voters seemed set against.

Not that I ever wanted Trump in office ... but it has seemed for decades we're stuck with the candidates that sufficiently powerful business interests were going to give to us.  No sooner had Obama been elected did I doubt we were going to get any rollback of military presence or that, crucially, if we did then the soldier might be replaced by a drone or a mercenary. 

So while a certain amount of panic about the way things went at Helsinki doesn't entirely surprise me the surprise is that some of my fellow Americans feel that the United States must be in the pocket of Russia.  Does the prospect of the United States being in the pocket of international corporations on the order of Google, Facebook, Amazon, Apple, Microsoft, Lockheed Martin, Boeing, or a panoply of banks seem ... safer?  But let's just set that off to the side.

Let's just go straight to Slate, with a piece opining on how the real threat to American democracy isn't Russia, it's the American right.

https://slate.com/news-and-politics/2018/07/the-real-threat-to-american-democracy-is-the-right.html

There are people concerned that the way that Trump was able to win the Electoral College vote put the masses of urban, city-dwelling voters at the mercy of the electoral interests of rural hick Republican-voting farmer types.  Minority rule, in a phrase, is what has been mentioned in the wake of 2016.  It might be that we're stuck with a lose-lose scenario for minority rule.  Should the densely populated urban areas be able to dictate policy back to the rural fly-over regions?  Should a handful of what amount to city-states in electoral/districting terms be allowed to guide the course of policy across the entire United States?  Should a sheer population majority have the power and the rights to be a geographical minority rule simply because of herd values? 

There's no reason to be sure that the mass in the Milgram experiment suddenly has to be right just because we'd prefer cities to guide policy a la The Stranger's "The Urban Archipelago".  The big sort and its geographic and electoral implications seem to have become a self-fulfilling prophecy but in the wake of gerrymandering and district changes the result wasn't Hillary Clinton as president as predicted by comedians and entertainers but the era of Trump.

The question is, arguably, which minority rule is going to prevail, not whether or not some form of minority rule is going to start characterizing electoral dramas.

A few years back some were wondering whether Obama's election might foretell the irrelevancy of the Republican party.  There are probably fools right now who hope that one day the Democratic party could become the "right wing" party and that everything else would be to "the left" of the Democratic party.  People who are that ignorant of how history plays out might benefit from Richard Taruskin's macabre but humorous observation about how in the history of European nations the one thing the left and right agree on when you go far enough in either direction is that European nations need to exterminate more Jews.  There were plenty of men in 19th century Europe who espoused radical and progressive ideals who loathed Jews and wanted them removed or expelled or even exterminated from Europe.  Deciding that any of the bloodshed of the last century by the left and right could be dismissed on the basis of some no true Scotsman fallacy is not the way to go.  Or as Jesus said to some of his adversaries, by saying they would never have killed the prophets of old they testified to being the sons of those murderers.

So, ever since Trump was technically, legally elected it's been clear that for more than just some fraction of blue state voters that Trump was never legitimately president.  Sometimes a journalist will even spell out what is often merely implicit in online discourse:

 
 
 
Donald Trump is a natural-born citizen over the age of 35. Under the rules in place at the time, he received sufficient electoral votes to secure the presidency. American law does not provide for presidential election do-overs no matter what wrongs a candidate is revealed to have committed after the fact. Trump is the lawful president, but legitimacy is not decided by technicalities.
 
There’s a reason we have two different words for legality and legitimacy. Each new wave of information about Russia’s targeted assistance to Trump—and the Trump campaign’s acceptance of that assistance—subtracts from this presidency’s quantum of that second, higher quality. His supporters may not care. But legitimacy is important precisely because it shapes the behavior and beliefs of non-supporters. And in Trump’s case, those non-supporters are the large majority of the American population.

https://newrepublic.com/article/149955/trump-not-putins-puppet
...
While Trump’s latest trip abroad provided some important insights into his worldview and ideology, which has long stumped observers, for many it simply confirmed once and for all that he is Putin’s puppet. Charles Blow, the New York Times columnist, wrote that “Trump is a traitor and may well be treasonous,” a sentiment that other Trump critics appeared to share. “Dear Allies - Call on Trump to resign,” MSNBC contributor Scott Dworkin tweeted. “The world can’t afford to have Putin’s puppet acting as if he’s president.” Even Hillary Clinton chimed in: “Question for President Trump as he meets Putin: Do you know which team you play for?”

These and other critics couldn’t think of any other explanation for Trump’s behavior over the past week. (Last week, in a New York magazine cover story, Jonathan Chait floated a theory that Trump has been a Russian asset since 1987.) But there’s a more plausible explanation. Trump sees himself in—and aspires to be—the Russian president, not just as a nationalistic authoritarian but a distinguished culture warrior.

To be fair to the critics above, Trump’s behavior was indeed troubling. During the NATO summit, Trump insulted and alienated leaders of the United States’ closest allies, and it became clear early on that he had no intention of toning down his rhetoric. After declaring that Germany was “captive to Russia,” blasting other members as “delinquent,” and threatening to “go it alone” if other countries didn’t raise their spending, the president held a bizarre press conference on Thursday to declare the summit a success and once again refer to himself as a “stable genius.” The NATO summit was a success in at least one sense: As Alex Ward put it in Vox, the big winner of the summit was Vladimir Putin, who “wants to divide NATO.” 

...

Well, why wouldn't Russia want NATO divided?  Didn't the expansion of NATO and EU membership in the last twenty years annex a variety of nations that in the Soviet era could be construed as buffer states or part of the "Iron Curtain"? 

Yes, we can and should be considered about the power the executive branch has and yet by and large it's not clear to me that anyone has scaled back executive powers since Trump got elected, or before.  Years ago I had a conversation in which someone said that the problem with Bush 2 was that, if anything, he didn't have enough power. That was back in 2006 and I replied at the time that if this person, within ten years, was complaining about executive tyranny should a Democrat be the president, then this would signal to me that the person was less concerned with limited government and restrained governance than with Republicans having the power of the executive branch. 

Decades ago I had relatives who were fretting about UN helicopters and the likelihood that Bil Clinton would suspend the Constitution; declare an emergency or martial law; and appoint himself dictator for life.  During W my blue state friends or family had comparable concerns about W; when Obama was elected within DAYS of the announcement I got spam about how he was some Manchurian candidate puppet of communists at the behest of Muslims (why Muslims and communists would collaborate on such a project seems to have been something that would have to be assumed rather than explained at the time); and now, here in the age of Trump, blue state pundits seem to have returned the favor by deciding as a group that Trump simply can't be the legitimate president of the United States, however technically legal the selection process may seem.   It would be easier at several levels to have some sympathy for objections to fake news if it didn't seem as though the blue and red had their own pragmatic definitions of fake news.

Maybe having half my lineage being Native American has played a part here but the whole idea that merely saying "not my President" means anything at all seems ... absurd.  There is not a single thing that you can change by simply deciding that X or Y is not "your" president. 

So ... maybe Trump was legally elected to the chagrin of the establishment.  If so, then making a case that Russian hacking influenced the electoral college result in some way is a case that, by the mere fact of it being made at all, insists that we view the electoral process as illegitimate.  There's no take-backs on this kind of thing.  If it turned out that Russia hacked the 2016 election in a way that really influenced the outcome then it's a question that will hang over any and every subsequent moment of electoral decision unless we, you know, insist on making it impossible for such a thing as deciding to do something about it.

But I'm not sure that everyone who would be willing to claim the first half understands the necessarily war-mongering implications of the second half. 

https://www.theatlantic.com/international/archive/2018/07/the-anti-trump-hysteria-isnt-helping/565373/

...
So now much of the foreign-policy establishment—I count myself a proud member, though not a letter signer—is a little angry. They didn’t vote for the man. They don’t like the man. He is terrible. But he did get the necessary majority in the Electoral College and, being Trump, his attitude toward all those letter signers has been—I win, you lose. So, to paraphrase Bill Clinton: That’s President Terrible to you.
But it’s Trump’s words that are terrible. His policies are, in the main, not. The United States has crushed Russia beneath escalating sanctions, pulled out of the dreadful Iran deal, armed the Ukrainian opposition to Putin, stood up to China’s theft of American intellectual property, actually bombed Syrian chemical-weapons sites, and increased defense spending. Sure, there’s plenty to dislike in Trump’s foreign policy, including his trade wars, his dismissal of allies, his toying with NATO, and his Obama-esque desire to skip out of Syria. But his stupid rhetoric masks a mostly normal, if not always sensible or desirable, foreign policy. And Trump’s national-security strategy is at least coherent when compared with the incoherent global retreat embraced by the last administration.

...

Yes, Trump is a shallow, vain, not terribly bright, lazy president of the United States. He might even have been interested in dirt Moscow scraped up on Hillary Clinton. And he will do some damage—which is to be expected, as our last few presidents have also done some damage. Maybe he will do more. But he can also do some good. He is not the anti-Christ, any more than Barack Obama was a Muslim, or Hillary Clinton was trafficking in children. Frothing conspiracy theories about Trump only drag everyone into that world. Nonstop outrage is exhausting and counterproductive.

Perhaps Twitter has dragged us all away from the considered responses this presidency requires.
Perhaps Trump is driving us all mad. But it’s time to get a grip.

Twitter ... if Russian bots on social media influenced the election then my first thought is that blaming the Russians for figuring out how to weaponize social media should have us reconsidering whether we use social media and whether it's a good thing that social media could be so influential as to be a target for Russian hacking, however that form of hacking may have transpired.

Given the data breaches at OPM or Target or ... just go back and look at all those data breaches.  Did anyone imagine that so many national-level corporate data breaches would just amount to "no impact" on an increasingly cyber-spaced political climate?  Here's hoping nobody would be surprised that Russian hacking would be on the horizon.  Whether it "worked" is not exactly the same thing.

But if it "did" work then it reminds me that years ago I was blogging about how what made 9/11/2001 daunting was that people with reasons to take aggressive and symbolic action against the United States didn't use anything like traditional warfare or weapons; they weaponized our commerce and transit systems against us.  I wrote a few years ago that the likelihood that this would happen again seemed low.  Whatever the "next thing" was going to be, it was probably not going to be some overt form of military action but some other way to transform our commerce system into a way to make things difficult for us in the United States and the perceived global legitimacy of the United States.

Well ... thanks to the polemics between blue and red and red and blue some of that work has been getting done without any foreign parties having to be involved at all.  If any time a red executive or a blue executive gets sworn in the opposing electoral demography swears that the victory may be legal but can't be legitimate (Obama wasn't born in the U.S. canard, for instance; or the GOP gerrymandered to a degree that should be illegal and Russian hacking means Trump should be impeached ... or impeach Bush ... I hope you're getting a sense of how long this has been going on over the last twenty years) then what countries besides the United States have to say can be moot.

But let's suppose that it were both practical and possible to hack an election in some way at a national level.  This is the part where it's become easier to go back and look up the ways in which the United States has transformed nation states into vassals and puppets.

https://www.theatlantic.com/politics/archive/2018/07/the-us-has-a-long-history-of-election-meddling/565538/

... Donald Trump’s refusal in Helsinki to credit his intelligence agencies’ findings about Russian electoral interference has unleashed a nationalist fury in Washington unseen since September 11. In this moment—thick with accusations of “treason” and references to Pearl Harbor—discussing America’s own penchant for election meddling is like discussing America’s misdeeds in the Middle East in the wake of 9/11. It’s apt to get you labeled a traitor.

That’s a problem. Discussing America’s history of electoral interference has never been more necessary. It’s necessary not so Americans can downplay the severity of Russia’s election attack. It’s necessary so Americans can determine how—and how not—to respond. The less Americans know about America’s history of electoral interference, the more likely they are to acquiesce to—or even cheer—its return. That’s dangerous because, historically, American meddling has done far more to harm democracy than promote it.

...

and then we get to a matter of foreign policy and election history that could be easy to forget because it's twenty years old.

...
What many Russians, but few Americans, know is that 20 years before Russia tried to swing an American presidential election, America tried to swing a presidential election in Russia. The year was 1996. Boris Yeltsin was seeking a second term, and Bill Clinton desperately wanted to help. “I want this guy to win so bad,” he told Deputy Secretary of State Strobe Talbott, “it hurts.” [emphasis added]
Clinton liked Yeltsin personally. He considered him Russia’s best hope for embracing democracy and capitalism. And he appreciated Yeltsin’s acquiescence during NATO’s march eastward, into the former Soviet bloc.

Unfortunately for Clinton, ordinary Russians appreciated their leader far less. Yeltsin’s “shock-therapy” economic reforms had reduced the government’s safety net, and produced a spike in unemployment and inflation. Between 1990 and 1994, the average life expectancy among Russian men had dropped by an astonishing six years. When Yeltsin began his reelection campaign in January 1996, his approval rating stood at 6 percent, lower than Stalin’s.
So the Clinton administration sprang into action. It lobbied the International Monetary Fund to give Russia a $10 billion loan, some of which Yeltsin distributed to woo voters. Upon arriving in a given city, he often announced, “My pockets are full.” [emphasis added]

Three American political consultants—including Richard Dresner, a veteran of Clinton’s campaigns in Arkansas—went to work on Yeltsin’s reelection bid. Every week, Dresner sent the White House the Yeltsin campaign’s internal polling. And before traveling to meet Yeltsin in April, Clinton asked Dresner what he should say in Moscow to boost his buddy’s campaign.

It worked. In a stunning turnaround, Yeltsin—who had begun the campaign in last place—defeated his communist rival in the election’s final round by 13 percentage points. Talbott declared that “a number of international observers have judged this to be a free and fair election.” But Michael Meadowcroft, a Brit who led the election-observer team of the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe, later claimed there had been widespread voter fraud, which he had been pressured not to expose. [emphasis added] In Chechnya, which international observers believe contained fewer than 500,000 adults, one million people voted, and Yeltsin—despite prosecuting a brutal war in the region—won exactly 70 percent. “They’d been bombed out of existence, and there they were all supposedly voting for Yeltsin,” exclaimed Meadowcroft. “It’s like what happens in Cameroon.” Thomas Graham, who served as the chief political analyst at the U.S. embassy in Moscow during the campaign, later conceded that Clinton officials knew the election wasn’t truly fair. “This was a classic case,” he admitted, “of the ends justifying the means.”
Why does this history matter now? Because acknowledging it begs a question that few American pundits and politicians have answered yet: Is the problem with Russia’s behavior in 2016 that it violated principles of noninterference in other countries’ elections that America should respect as well? Or is the problem simply that America’s ox was gored? [emphasis added]

During the Cold War, America’s leaders saw nothing wrong with electoral interference, so long as the United States was conducting it. ...


...

The author cited above could, if anything, have soft-pedaled the Clinton legacy a tiny bit.  If we assume, for the sake of thought experiment, that Russia "did" make a concerted bid to hack the election to put a corrupt or incompetent leader in the Oval Office, couldn't someone with a little history of global politics in the United States at least "consider" the possibility that making a point of trying to wreck the odds of a Clinton win in 2016 could be considered a form of payback for the placement of Yeltsin in power twenty years ago?  You don't have to think the least bit highly of Trump as a person or a president to get that in international politics and covert meddling that the old phrase "turnabout is fair play" could at least come to mind, if only once.

But ...

let's just stop a moment, step back, and consider the legacy of Gulf War 2 and the War on Terror and the fact that 9/11/2001 happened.  If the intelligence establishment, if the intelligence communities that sold us on the idea of WMDs and the necessity of war in Iraq managed to be, well, either wrong or dishonest about those things how sure can we be they're being honest with respect to allegations of Russian hacking?  If we're angry that with the election of Trump that an imperialist racist executive is calling the shots then, well, did we just forget how racist and imperialist Woodrow Wilson was?  Possibly?   Was the way that Kennedy and Johnson escalated our involved in Vietnam ... not militaristic or imperialist?  On the whole it has seemed that if you want a not-technically-war military action you go with Republicans but if you want an official war you had best go with Democrats.  The question isn't really about how militaristically adventurous the executive is going to ultimately be, if we look at the last century and a fifth, it's more a question of what technicalities will be invoked to justify that adventurism. 

I had enough friends in college who were from the former Yugoslavia and acquaintances from central and eastern Europe that the Clinton foreign policy legacy that always springs to mind for me is deciding to bomb in the interest of "human rights" but perhaps that was just NATO and EU adventurism of a sort; a commitment to a kind of Atlanticist Euro-American dominance that the East could see as the same old imperialism that Soviets were set against during the Cold War.  Whether you believe that or not isn't really the point here, the point is that what could be construed as a crisis of the legitimacy of Trump now may embody a larger crisis of the legitimacy of the United States that won't go away even if we lived in an alternative universe where the other Clinton was currently president. 

To fail to grasp the significance of U.S. meddling in Russian and neighboring elections over the last twenty years, but specifically during the Clinton administrations (and appreciate that history as relevant to recent allegations of Russian hacking) is to in some way to fail to grasp the "payback" element that any American could understand being involved "if" we can prove there was a hack and could also prove that the hack was in any way measurably successful.  It's not clear yet that those later parts can be established but if they could be the payback element becomes more and not less prominent in our consideration of what should be done next.   After all, if "we" gave Russia  Boris Yeltsin who could be thought of by at least some as a corrupt puppet beholden to corporate or even foreign interests then ... well ... couldn't Trump be considered simple "payback" should it be possible to prove there was a hack and that the hack worked?  Moreover, couldn't the payback be considered to be necessarily tied to the Clinton era backing of Yeltsin? Just a weekend thought experiment.  I'm rusty on a lot of policy issues related to foreign policy so I can't claim I'm as in the loop about this kind of stuff as I tried to be about twenty years ago.  It was interesting to live during what was the end of the Cold War and I was curious as to how foreign policy would be adjudicated in a post-Cold War America. 

That's not even counting the time the United States made an attempt to keep Bolsheviks from gaining power a century ago.

https://consortiumnews.com/2018/07/18/when-the-u-s-invaded-russia/
Now, sure, the communist legacy was monstrous but as the anger over  the possibility of Russian meddling in American election could show us, nobody likes the idea of their own civil conflicts or elections being decided in some way by the manipulations or outright aggressions of a foreign power.

The possibility that Clinton lost in 2016 and without there having to be collusion or hacking; that Clinton lost because after decades of the cumulative Clinton legacy involving foreign policy adventurism and elections rigging that even a faux populist could win against her is not something that those who are devoted to the Clintons would be willing to consider.  As someone who's never really liked or trusted the Clintons or liked or trusted Trump I don't write all of this because I think we "should" have someone like Trump in office ... but if Trump makes the United States look to itself the way it often looks to the world in the post-Cold War era we might have an opportunity to learn that whoever "they" are, they don't hate us because of our freedom, they can hate us because we pretend to love freedom for all when we are mainly concerned about freedom for us, whatever freedom is supposed to mean, and we have shown that we're not afraid to rig a few elections if it gets us the freedoms we feel we deserve regardless of the freedoms others might lose along the way ... if they had freedoms. 

I've written about this idea a few times but we may be moving back toward a multi-polar world in terms of global power politics. Why anyone in the United States should be shocked by this suggests a uniquely terrible form of American hubris--if we've exported our manufacturing base over the last thirty years; if we've shifted from production to "service economy" and "financial services" then we've outsourced plenty at the expense of profit.  Where are the new powers emerging?  Well, at the risk of being both pugnacious and glib about the point, the places where powers have emerged would sure seem to be in the regions to which "we" outsourced a lot of stuff because the company bottom lines made it seem it was cheaper to move all that stuff elsewhere.  Whether to the East or the South, we've moved things so that profit margins can improve and yet should those regions gain enough influence or political momentum to dissent from a Pax Americana "end of history" then ... why are Russians the bad guys?  Didn't we "win" the Cold War?  Didn't we effectively make Yeltsin our puppet? 

If people who could otherwise grasp that anti-Soviet Islamic groups who were given aid by the United States could turn on us and prepare a 9/11/2001 attack is it that much harder to imagine that "if" a 2016 cyber attack was staged by Russians that that, too, could be considered a form of retaliation for generations of U.S. imperialist intervention abroad? 

In the Hollywood depictions of the 1950s the paranoia of the Red Scare regarding Russian influence and communist influence is depicted as paranoid.  here we are sixty years later and it would seem that we're supposed to believe that after the end of the Cold War the Russian threat is even more pernicious than before?  I'm ... just not ... quite seeing that. 

By all means if it turns out the election was hacked we should confront some difficult truths about the corruption and corruptibility of our electoral system ... but if all of that becomes an excuse to take military action against Russia then, no, I don't think that's a good idea--if Democrats become the party of a new Red Scare that doesn't bode well for anyone's future. 

The only thing that may be scarier for Americans at this point is that "the end of history" has ended and we're looking at the re-emergence of a multi-polar world.  That uni-polar world in the wake of the end of the Cold War was, yes, a Clinton era ... but perhaps living in a world in which we are forced to admit other global powers exist could be good for us if we don't choose the path of trying to remain on top  After all the ways we've exported our industrial base abroad and outsourced even swaths of our service economy we can't make America great again and we can't pretend that it "is great" as a rebuttal to Trump voters if it turned out, after all, that Russians somehow hacked our election.  How great can America really be if Russian hackers with bots attacking Twitter could change the course of an election?  Either way it seems like it's lose-lose.

HT Bryan Townshend at The Music Salon blog--a Tablet mag article by Claire Lehrmann on cultural appropriation as a revival of sumptuary codes

https://themusicsalon.blogspot.com/2018/07/friday-miscellanea_13.html

The term "sumptuary code" is new to me but it's an interesting concept. 

https://www.tabletmag.com/jewish-news-and-politics/263933/cultural-appropriation

In 1961, the anthropologist William Rowe documented a curious feature of Indian village life. When those of a lower caste—particularly if they were “untouchable”—wore clothing containing threads worn by a higher landlord caste, members of the landlord caste tore the garments from them, beat them and fined them. Rowe called this behavior “upcasteing” and observed that it was a serious social offense.
 
Similar practices barring access to signifiers of a caste or social grouping superior to one’s own can be found throughout the historical record. In the 7th century B.C., Greek law stipulated that a free-born woman “may not wear gold jewelry or a garment with a purple border, unless she is a courtesan.” In ancient Rome, only Roman senators were allowed to wear Tyrian purple on their togas—ordinary Romans could not. In feudal Japan, people of every class submitted to strict laws about what they could and could not wear, according to their social rank. In Medieval and Renaissance Europe, the nobility policed the clothing of the middle classes, making sure to keep them in their place. In any society in which there has been high levels of inequality—where monarchs and aristocrats have ruled over commoners and slaves—equality in dress has been considered, at the very least, bad manners.
 

Not too difficult to see where this is going, eh? But if you haven't caught the drift of the argument it becomes more forward.

While sumptuary laws (rules that govern conspicuous consumption, especially of food and clothing) fell mostly out of fashion in the West during the Enlightenment period, they appear to be back in style again, thanks to the orthodoxies of social-justice activism fueled by social media. On April 28, a tweet appeared which read:
 
My culture is NOT your goddamn prom dress.
 
2:34 PM - Apr 27, 2018 · Salt Lake City, UT
 
The tweet was retweeted nearly 42,000 times and “liked” 178,000 times—viral in social media terms. The flare-up was reported on internationally, and dozens of op-eds both condemning and defending the tweet and the dress spilled forth. Writing in The Independent, Eliza Anyangwe officiously declared that the teenager who wore the offending dress, Keziah Daum, was “the embodiment of a system that empowers white people to take whatever they want, go wherever they want and be able to fall back on: ‘Well, I didn’t mean any harm.’” The title of the piece was “Cultural Appropriation Is Never Harmless.” But it failed to define what cultural appropriation actually is.
 
For most observers, these complaints are bemusing and baffling. For many, no defense or condemnation of cultural appropriation is required, because such complaints are almost beyond the realm of comprehension in the first place. Without cultural appropriation we would not be able to eat Italian food, listen to reggae, or go to Yoga. Without cultural appropriation we would not be able to drink tea or use chopsticks or speak English or apply algebra, or listen to jazz, or write novels. Almost every cultural practice we engage in is the byproduct of centuries of cross-cultural pollination. The future of our civilization depends on it continuing.
 
Yet the concept was not always so perplexing. Originally derived from sociologists writing in the 1990s, its usage appears to have first been adopted by indigenous peoples of nations tainted by histories of colonization, such as Canada, Australia and the United States. Understandably, indigenous communities have been protective of their sacred objects and cultural artifacts, not wishing the experience of exploitation to be repeated generation after generation. Although one might be quizzical of complaints about a girl wearing a cheongsam to her prom (the United States has never colonized China) even the most tough-minded skeptic should be able to see why indigenous peoples who have historically had their land and territories taken away from them might be unwilling to “share their culture” unconditionally. Particularly when it is applied to the co-opting of a people’s sacred and religious iconography for the base purposes of profit-making, the concept of cultural appropriation seems quite reasonable.
 
Well, in American academic terms the colonization could be  thought to happen in terms of enforced labor on the rail lines and things like that.  Critiques of American exceptionalism and imperialism don't have to assume that the United States colonized China to find white appropriation of Chinese cultural customs or objects problematic.  Still, the counter-proposal that those objecting to cultural appropriation seeming to be attempting to enforce sumptuary codes could stand.  What can seem to those attempting to prevent cultural appropriation might see as a battle against colonialism or imperialism (and I'm not necessarily trying to say that can't really be how they see it) can ALSO be interpreted as the enforcement of sumptuary codes on the part of a self-designated implicit aristocracy that might balk at the prospect of being labeled an actual cultural aristocracy.  What kind of aristocrat?  Well, at the risk of just being too snarky, the kinds that can afford to go to liberal arts schools and get degrees in the liberal arts or social sciences are the aristocrats ... even if they would exempt themselves by dint of not being the proverbial one percent.

Lehrmann goes on to make the case even more explicit.
 
Nevertheless, the concept quickly becomes baffling when young Westerners, such as Mr. Lam, of the cheongsam tweet, use the term as a weapon to disrupt the natural process of cultural exchange that happens in cosmopolitan societies in which culture is, thankfully, hybrid. When controversies erupt over hoop earrings or sombrero hats or sushi or braids or cannabis-themed parties, the concept of cultural appropriation appears to have departed from its formerly understood meaning—that is, to protect sacred or religious objects from desecration and exploitation. It appears that these newer, more trivial (yet vicious) complaints are the modern-day incarnation of sumptuary laws. [emphasis added]
 
Elites once policed what their social inferiors could wear, in part to remind them of their inferiority, and in part to retain their own prestige and exclusivity. In Moral Time, the sociologist Donald Black, explains that in feudal and medieval societies, sumptuary laws were often articulated with religious or moralizing language, but their intention and effect was simply to provide a scaffold for existing social hierarchies. Writing in the 15th century, French philosopher Michel de Montaigne made the astute observation in his essay “Of Sumptuary Laws”: “’Tis strange how suddenly and with how much ease custom in these indifferent things establishes itself and becomes authority.”
 
Now that doesn't necessarily mean I'm all that on board with the Lionel Shriver spiel, which I've blogged about in the past.  
 
Shriver’s full speech can be read here. To argue that it “drips of racial supremacy” is to project something that is simply not contained in the text. She defends fiction as a vehicle for empathy, not derision. Nowhere does she argue that the “right to identity” be “given up.”


Yet Shriver’s metaphorical kneecapping was complete. Her speech was officially disavowed by the organizers of the festival, who threw together a “Right of Reply” seminar session the following day. It is important to note that it was never suggested that Shriver actually committed colonial crimes that had harmed people of color. It was simply suggested that she was guilty by association, presumably because of the color of her own skin.

I wasn't really all that won over by either Shriver or Shriver's critics a couple of  years back and so while I get why Shriver's talks would be pertinent to discussing sumptuary codes as protesting cultural appropriation I'm just not sure Shriver's approach is the best alternative.  In the sense that any white author could be guilty of cultural appropriation by dint of having the "default" culture there's nevertheless a problem with that in that cultural appropriation tends to have just a "punching down" element to its deployment in academic and polemical discourse.  If anyone is unclear on what I'm getting at a "punching down" cultural appropriation would be when middle class or upper class whites get into jazz or blues or whatever African American music may be at hand in a big at a kind of artistic authenticity (cf Raymond Knapp's monograph on Haydn and Camp).  "Punching up" could be the ostensibly lowbrow jazz musician quoting Chopin at the end of a piece like Ellington's "Black and Tan Fantasy". 

And that gets at a paradox about preventing cultural appropriation in connection to sumptuary codes.  People who are I a position to see cultural appropriation as "punching down" have to be educationally high enough to see something as "punching down" in a way that the truly uneducated (whatever we mean by that) may not.  or to put things another way, when people say genres in music don't exist but were invented by record labels to sell music there's another way to put that, a way not preferred, perhaps, by college students and graduates--the lines between white and black working class music may not be as big across that real divide as the divide between working class music (white or black) and the middle class or upper class standards of art and artistic achievement and art history that would cordon off the high and low. 
 
In their newly released book, The Rise of Victimhood Culture: Microaggressions, Safe Spaces, and the New Culture Wars, the moral sociologists Bradley Campbell and Jason Manning describe the three main moral cultures that exist today, which they give the shorthand labels of dignity, honor, and victimhood. A dignity culture, which has been the dominant moral culture of Western middle classes for some time, has a set of moral values that promotes the idea of moral equality and was crystallized in Martin Luther King Jr.’s vision that people ought to be judged according to the content of their character, not the color of their skin.


Victimhood culture departs from dignity culture in several important ways. Moral worth is in large part defined by the color of one’s skin, or at least one’s membership in a fixed identity group: i.e., women, people of color, LGBTIQ, Muslims, or indigenous peoples. Such groups are sacred, and a lack of deference to them is seen as a sign of deviance. The reverse is true for those who belong to groups that are considered historical oppressors: whites, males, straight people, Zionists. Anyone belonging to an “oppressor” group is stained by their privilege, or “whiteness,” and is cast onto the moral scrapheap.

... maybe ... but even Jewish people can be against applied Zionism.  That gets complex and delicate really quickly. The implications of this can be more complex in both theory (!) and practice than Lehrmann may be granting.  Intersectionality means that at one level merely being a person of color is not necessarily sufficient if you are to advocate against cultural appropriation.  You might theoretically rate high on sexuality but low on the basis of skin color  and class.  Which is to say that a gay man who is white and votes for Republicans may get no quarter on the matter of being part of an oppressor caste merely by dint of sexuality/orientation.  Caitlyn Jenner is no longer thought of in heroic terms in the LGBTIQ orbit simply for having decided to transition ... which may or may not indicate another, more paradoxical element about elements that are tangential to cultural appropriation concerns.  Merely being trans isn't enough, either, to keep a person from being seen as basically sympathetic to an oppressor group. 


Lerhmann's proposal that those concerned with preventing cultural appropriation are enforcing sumptuary codes more than they are actually combating cultural appropriation or even defining why it's bad draws on some other writing, which is not too surprising. Victimhood culture gets invoked.

In a recent interview in the online magazine which I edit, Quillette, I asked Campbell and Manning what they thought about cultural appropriation. They explained that they found such complaints baffling, like everybody else, but that they also “illustrate victimhood culture quite well.” One of the key components of victimhood culture is its projection of collective guilt, social offenses between individuals are no longer about the actual people involved, they are about “one social group harming another.”

One might make the case that while complaints about cultural appropriation are annoying, they are ultimately harmless. What is the harm in showing deference to peoples who have historically been the victims of exploitation, discrimination, and unfair treatment? What is the harm in showing respect and compliance with these new rules—isn’t it a way of making up for past sins?



The short answer to these questions is, no. The notion that a person can be held as responsible for actions that he or she did not commit strikes at the very heart of our conception of human rights and justice.


This reminds me of an incident a family member had.  There was an American Indian guy who declared to my relative, "You stole my land.  You sent me to Vietnam."  The relative pointed out that, having been born in the mid-1970s they could not have stolen the man's tribal lands or sent him to Vietnam.  Since this was Seattle the relative asked the American Indian man, "What tribe are you?"

"I'm Apache." the man replied.

"Well, go back to Texas. This was Duwamish land."

"I ain't ever heard of a Duwamish tribe." the man said.

"Well, then, you're out of luck because my dad's American Indian and his tribe was always here.  So, if anything, this is more legitimately my homeland than it ever was yours and you should go, if that's how this has to be."

That is a general reconstruction of how the conversation went, give or take some necessary imagining since I wasn't there for the incident myself.  One of the risks of an American Indian randomly claiming to a guy who looks white that said white-looking guy stole his land and sent him to Vietnam is that there's a chance, however tiny, that the accosted guy turns out to be descended from a native PNW tribe that couldn't possibly have been involved in sending an Apache to Vietnam in the 1960s or 1970s.  If the best rebuttal at hand is to say you've never heard of the Duwamish tribe then, well, it blunts the potential power of the claim "you stole my land."  The tribes of the PNW couldn't really have been much involved in dispossessing the Apache. 

But that doesn't mean that people willing to deploy lazy racist stereotypes won't keep using them, obviously. 

Despite the length and breadth (if not always depth, perhaps) of the Western tradition of liberalism it seems as though groups have a hard time shaking the notion of real and lasting group guilt.  In Christian theological terms a term that comes to mind is imputation.  It can seem weirdly easy in the abstract for someone to say they don't see how or why it's fair for a person to be held to the consequences of a sin that some primal human like Adam or Eve may have committed ... and yet the cases against celebrating or observing Columbus Day suggest that it's really, really easy to understand collective guilt and imputation when the subject is Western European colonialism.  Since I affirm that original sin is real and significant it's very easy for me to affirm collective guilt in connection to Adamic sin on the one hand and the outworking of that Adamic legacy in Western imperialist terms.  The tension is arguably for those who insist on rejecting altogether one conception of imputation while insisting on the relevancy of inherited group guilt in some other context. 

So ... while urging us to remember that in the West we argue that a person is responsible for their sins alone (Ezekiel 18:20 comes to mind) ...

We used to take calls for collective punishment much more seriously. In the 1949 Geneva Convention it was determined that: “No protected person may be punished for an offense he or she has not personally committed.” Collective punishment was seen as a tactic designed to intimidate and subdue an entire population. The drafters of the Geneva Convention clearly had in mind the atrocities committed in WWI and WWII where entire villages and communities suffered mass retribution for the resistance activities of a few. In their commentary on the outlawing of collective punishment the International Red Cross stated: “A great step forward has been taken. Responsibility is personal and it will no longer be possible to inflict penalties on persons who have themselves not committed the acts complained of.”


In times of peace, collective punishment may come in the form of social media dust-ups over sombrero hats or Chinese dresses. Gradual softening on the taboo of collective punishment does not bode well for the health of liberal democracies. Which is also why it is important for us all to remember that social-justice activists who complain about cultural appropriation only represent themselves, and not the minority groups to which they belong. When Jeremy Lam complained about Keziah Daum’s cheongsam, other Asian-Americans and mainland Chinese people rebuked him for being “offended over nothing.” Hundreds of Chinese and Asian-American people have now responded to Daum’s original tweet commenting on how pretty she looked in the dress, and how they felt that she did nothing wrong. Replies include:
 
As these responses make clear, victimhood culture only exists in certain insulated bubbles. It is by no means the dominant moral culture in the United States, nor any other nation—yet. Most of us still live in a dignity culture where equality, diversity, and inclusion remain paramount principles to aspire to. ...

Lehrmann could have, perhaps, been even more explicit and outright suggested that victimhood culture seems to exist in those insulated bubbles of generally better-educated college students and graduates who are attempting to enforce sumptuary codes in the name of social justice.

...As the drama of social-justice activism unfolds, one of the biggest mistakes we could make is to think that the loudest and most dogmatic voices of minority groups speak for these groups as a whole. Minority groups are not homogenous, and are full of people who are conservative, liberal, apolitical, and dissenting. Just because a progressive activist claims to speak on behalf of a marginalized group does not mean we have to indulge their delusions of grandeur.


It also would be a mistake to think that multiculturalism has been a failure. Human beings have a remarkable capacity for cooperation and solidarity with each other—including those whom they are not related to—when they feel that their neighbor is on their team. What helps people move past cultural, ethnic, or religious differences is sharing in a common goal, and feeling a common bond of humanity with their fellow citizens. When activists draw attention to differences between cultures, and attempt to draw boundaries around them, punishing those who step out of line, this sets the stage for escalating intolerance and division. We must not let them succeed.

For my part I can never see myself as strictly or purely white or Native American.  While I'm able to have some sympathy for the "why" of some worries about cultural appropriation and even see that as a legitimate concern I can't do so as someone who has a purity of cultural or ethnic lineage from which to sympathize.  Fusion and hybridization do not seem like they are automatically bad to me for what I trust should be obvious reasons.  And by and large my hunch is that people from Russia or the Ukraine or Japan or Latvia will, I hope, not be upset if I decide to blog about music from those regions or draw inspiration from them. 

Cultural appropriation has certainly been raised as a concern in music-making but ... now that I'm thinking about it ... it has seemed like some of the more headline-getting scuffles over cultural appropriation have involved food and clothing, more literal sumptuary code issues. 

asfasfsadf

Rod Dreher writes about the Cardinal McCarrick coverage, it seems that was with Harvey Weinstein, so with McCarrick, it was an "everybody knew" situation

 
 
 
What I knew at the time I made those phone calls was that McCarrick forced unwilling seminarians to share his bed at the beach house. I didn’t know that he raped priests. This, I guess, is why the lawyer could characterize my story as “embarrassing, but not criminal.”

What I don’t know is whether or not the people who went on that mission to Rome knew that McCarrick was guilty of more than unwanted touching. The two settlements with McCarrick accusers came later. I hope that all of them today are thinking hard about who and what their continued silence on the McCarrick matter is protecting.

Here’s the point: The Church knew. The Vatican knew. What is crucial for you to understand is that the Vatican advanced McCarrick to the cardinalate even though it had been warned about the kind of man he was. It let McCarrick take the lead in speaking out on sexual abuse, even though it knew he was himself an abuser. The Vatican knew what it had on its hands, but sat back while Uncle Ted said things like this, from a Boston Globe story in April, 2002:

Over the last several days and weeks, prominent church opinionmakers, including two cardinals, have suggested that the clergy sexual abuse crisis is a relatively minor phenomenon that is being turned into a major scandal by the media and others with an ax to grind.

Cardinal Theodore E. McCarrick of Washington, for example, told The Washington Post this week that some newspapers are having a ”heyday” with the issue.

”Elements in our society who are very opposed to the church’s stand on life, the church’s stand on family, the church’s stand on education … see in this an opportunity to destroy the credibility of the church,” he said. ”And they’re really working on it – and somewhat successfully.”

They knew that Theodore McCarrick molested priests and seminarians, but they allowed him to rise to the inner ring of the Church hierarchy anyway. Why do you think that is?
...
 
Dreher shifted from Catholicism to Orthodoxy, as he's recounted a few times.  He has written that he was advised to never imagine that in becoming an Orthodox convert he was switching to the church that had fewer controversies or abuses.  That should advisedly serve as a more general warning that you should never imagine that the team you just joined has fewer atrocities than the one you just left.  It's a point I'm likely to keep hammering at on account of the time I spent at Mars Hill.  If someone like Driscoll can shift from saying he's a Calvinist when he wasn't initially back to not really endorsing Calvinism then the potential take-away isn't the formal dogmas by themselves but how people treat people.  A demagogue is someone who will tell you that what you believe makes all the difference in how you treat people as a matter of "ideas have consequences".

Alternatively a nebulously defined "love test" is not necessarily going to be an improvement.  Any sufficiently shocking shock jock can claim to flip the middle finger to this or that "puritan" and present themselves as the more truly human alternative.  But ... Weinstein's Hollywood was not in the ideal position to condemn Catholic abuses as if from a platform of moral superiority, was it?  After decades of looking some other way on the matter of a Weinstein or even a Bill Clinton the question of where the outrage is supposed to be founded upon in the age of Trump is not necessarily a moot point.  This isn't a matter that can be dismissed simply as "false equivalence".  It can still be said that the Trump who ended up in office was still a Trump who was, somehow, a reality television show star and fixture.  So perhaps, whatever the open secret may happen to be, the entertainment industries are not looking like they are in the best position to be against what someone who at some level has been one of their own has managed to do.  How you treat people is certainly important but it can seem that the scandals of the last decade with men and power across the conventional red/blue, right/left divides suggests that the most dangerous thing we can do is imagine some kind of spectrum exemption. 

Which is why it isn't a big shock to consider that one of the warnings in the New Testament is that you watch your life and doctrine closely.

I've been thinking about this kind of thing since the demise of Mars Hill in the 2014-2015 period and I'm not  optimistic that people who left and became activist for social or political causes are not, at heart, still ultimately cultists.  The most dyed-in-the-wool of them are probably most convinced they have repediated the cultist ways of the past because of what they are fighting for now even if how they are fighting for those causes might show they have not changed at the level of the heart.   Mark at some point perhaps thought that by dint of simply not being Catholic he wasn't going to be part of a church culture that could silence abuse and exploit people  If he ever did think such a thing then the irony of how Mars Hill rose and fall anchored to his brand and celebrity might be the stuff of a book ... perhaps a book someone else can write at this point. 

The temptation people will have is to switch over to whichever team embodies the opposing ideals of whatever group they decided they had to leave.  The trouble is human cruelty and capacity for atrocity are not dependent on ideological checklists.  People can be bad when it suits them and while institutions can slow down that tendency institutions can, obviously, protect and conceal bad behavior.   If the Catholic Church has had a much, much better paper trail this is hardly any indication any Protestants or Orthodox or atheists or any other self-identifying group is necessarily better.  It has begun to seem as though the Hollywood that can revel in stories of people rejecting the systemic and systematically covered-up abuses of the Roman church in film over the last thirty some years still knew about what Harvey Weinstein was up to. 

Evangelicalism, whether its progressive or reactionary form, is not in a position to really presume superiority.  That any hacks like Mark Driscoll and Rachel Held Evans have careers at this point in 2018 speaks unfortunately to the level of products the Christian industrial complex is willing to shill.  For that matter ... I'm not that awestruck by the New Atheist side of things.  A Christopher Hitchens can negatively impress me in much the same way a Mark Driscoll can negatively impress me.  Atheism doesn't preclude chauvinist remarks any more or less than theism does. 

that's the nature of the age we seem to live in.  Merely turning out to be right that group X is rife with abuse and lies and secrets hardly means that Group Y is any better. What we seem to be discovering in the post-Weinstein moment is that the entertainment industry that looked down on the institutional abuses and cover-ups was the pot calling the kettle black.  I'm not even convinced that the entertainment industries are necessarily going to ever et better.  The codes of conduct may be changed and some things, we can hope, will get better ... but I have the gloomy suspicion that the ways in which people are exploited will be transformed and commuted without necessarily going away. 

an essay on Blues Traveler's "The Hook" which is one of those songs that I still find annoying but which was shrewd enough to make its own rote Pavlovian riffitude its subject

https://music.avclub.com/why-hook-by-blues-traveler-is-actually-a-pretty-geniu-1798232765

I hated Blues Traveler when they were first showing up on the radio.  I still don't like them.  That said, there's a certain admirably impudent element to "The Hook", admirable in the sense that the song wallows in highlighting the musical clichés and lyrical tropes it would otherwise use if it weren't highlighting them. 

The whole song can be thought of as lampshading musical and lyrical clichés.

Although ... I think there are ways you could be more pointed about lampshading those clichés in songs myself.

But, anyway ... if you've ever gotten tired of hearing four-chord formula songs but maybe didn't know what that had to do with I-V-vi-IV progressions this could help you out. 

and don't stop believin`

a Buzzfeed article muses on why there are so few great films about middle-school as distinct from high school

https://www.buzzfeednews.com/article/annehelenpetersen/eighth-grade-bo-burnham-elsie-fisher-middle-school-movies

...
Yet Eighth Grade, like its cinematic big sister, Lady Bird, offers something quieter: Kayla doesn’t suddenly become accepted, or cool, or charismatic. Her “growth” is about what one would expect from an actual eighth grader, which is to say, she becomes mildly, mildly, more accepting of the person she is and will become. At the end of the film, the popular girls are still popular, the “cute” boy still lacks any discernible personality, and awkwardness doesn’t disappear so much as very, very gradually dissipate. Enduring eighth grade isn’t about becoming an adult; it’s about seeing the light at the end of the tunnel — and Eighth Grade is the first movie I’ve seen that effectively captures that fleeting yet essential piece of hope.
...

It may be immersion in writing as a field can obscure something else about the middle-school film as a genre and certain constraints it may have to deal with, though the observation that there seem to be few "great" films about the middle-school experience is probably true.

Mainstream cinematic culture is so saturated in a post-Joseph Campbell notion of the Hero's Journey and popular-level cinema is so swamped with films that are tasked with re-enchanting the world for the movie-going populous or re-enacting those moments considered substantial rites of passage or touchstones to coming of age that, well, middle-school films are hamstrung by the existence of age of consent constraints on what a "normal" set of rites of passage into adulthood (and by implication adult sexuality) is expected to be normative regardless of gender, sex, or orientation. 

A middle-schooler narrative in film has to see light at the end of the tunnel but what, exactly, "is" that light supposed to be?  Discovering one's sexual market value?  Discovering that you can eventually find a way to pay for your own meals?  Autonomy?  Social connection?  A middle school student never arrives, in legally recognizable terms, at any of the things that make for an identifiably adult protagonist in a cinematic narrative so the light at the end of the tunnel is the plausible option.  The possibility that in seventh or eighth grade or whatever-is-formally-before-high-school you'll discover that whatever you're likely to become it won't be what you want is probably off the table. 

To go by writings of a student debt crisis, stagnated unskilled labor, rumblings of wars and cyber-wars, and concerns about the legitimacy of the current regime "should" there be films in which middle schoolers are presented as discovering some proverbial light at the end of the tunnel.  If adults are alternately horrified or elated by the current era is presenting, even by way of journalistic interpretation of a film, some light at the end of tunnel as the end-point or rebirth point for a middle schooler the only option on the table here? 

When I think back on the "middle school years", the grades 7 and 8 where I grew up, it's not elementary school and it's not high school.  You're too old to have childlike innocence in some stereotypical sense but you're not in high school.  The in between aspect of the experience invites (bad puns, obviously) ruminations on what kind of society you will have no choice but to grow up into.  I suppose it's an era in which you begin to discover what kind of social capital you have acquired and to what uses you may put it. 

The idea that there's any light at the end of the tunnel reads like a bromide. When you're a low double-digit teenager you don't necessarily feel like there's light at the end of the tunnel.  Depending on experience and relational contexts you begin to discover not so much light at the end of the tunnel but all of the ways in which the adults who have implicitly and explicitly been established as guides and role models begin to seem as if they are just muddling through, struggling and perhaps failing to be the "grown ups" that you're told you will one day be and it gives you time to consider whether you will "succeed" at whatever that is and have time to wonder about whether or not, even if you "could", whether or not you are sure you want to.  Middle school age is not necessarily the era in which there's some light at the end of the tunnel as though the tunnel was without lights.

 If anything the metaphor seems inverted.  When you're a child and adults are around you who care for you the way forward is well-lit.  The tunnel is just a tunnel and you can go forward or stay put but the path is confined.  IF anything I sometimes think that the tunnel is into the darkness of adult life not darkness in the sense that it's all evil so much as that the further away from the social and civil protections of formal and physical childhood you get in "conventional" society the less light there is indicating where you "could" or "should" go.  For people who have found they have high levels of social or emotional capital, perhaps, the light is at the end of the tunnel because they see all the possible things they can do with it.  For kids who grew up without a ton of social or emotional capital cultivated in a social web of contacts the emerging end of the tunnel may not be full of light but darkness. 

I was not exactly one of those kids who couldn't wait to be a "grown up".  I didn't see grown up life as characterized by freedom.  It seemed to be full of responsibilities and obligations, many of which the people in my life who I saw obliged to deal with obligations were simply not able to meet adequately.  They tried but their best efforts were very often not enough.  Some kept trying and others sort of shuffled on to other things. 

If you're not some Chosen One hero the world you grow into is a world that largely has no particular use for you.  Middle school years can be when you become old enough and observant enough to discover just how small you are in the world at a literal and metaphorical and social level. 

I admit I don't remember my middle school years as being a particularly happy or stable time. 

Sometimes it seems as though film has been taken up by journalists and scholars and historians and by film fans as rites of induction and initiation and passage.  Representation requires that there be a film for a demographic rite of passage.  I just have doubts lately about whether this is a good thing.  I still watch movies and I still enjoy movies.  It's just that in the last few years I have been considering complaints about the formulaic nature of blockbusters and yet the formulaic nature of art house films hardly seems less formulaic.  there is a type of "realism" that isn't realism at all.  When films like The Post seem less nuanced than superhero films I wonder whether or not having so cinema-saturated a culture traps us in scripts of cultural understanding we scarcely step back to consider. 

Not that there weren't scripts and mythologies in literary culture.  I just don't see the push for a post-canon society that I sometimes see as being possible.  There's always going to be a canon and a set of cultural scripts.

To put it in a probably unfair way, Hollywood and even indie film present the world to Amerians or Westerners as one that is full of unlimited possibilities when the reality is you have to figure out what script you can follow given the constraints you were born into.  The entertainment industry seems only able to think in terms of you either choose to be some normal conformist or you can be some dazzling art monster.  Perhaps the most ostentatious variation of this cliché is embodied in the animated series Rick and Morty, one of the more hyped and over-hyped animated series of the last eight years. It's like if Futurama could use more swears and more sex humor. It may be the apotheosis of many of the weaker tendencies in Adult Swim anything.  It probably warrants a separate post.