Author: no3reed

In a comment to BooMan’s excellent FP diary on the Imus imbroglio, Kahli wrote:

I only hope that this incident can lead to some constructive conversations about the way we discuss our differences in this country.

Now, this is in no way a criticism of Kahli, but I find such talk, and the closely-related calls for a “national conversation” or “national dialogue” – on race, on economic inequality, on many other matters of import – increasingly puzzling.

In part this is because, with my overly literal mind, I have a hard time imagining what a “national conversation” would be.  (Who would provide all the snacks?) But to the extent that I can envision what is meant by this phrase, I cannot envision its happening at the present time. For the fact is – or so it seems to me – a very large part of the present U.S. population, by no means restricted to dittoheads and such, firmly believes that listening itself is a form of weakness. (And weakness is to be detested.)

“Strength”, on the other hand, is displayed in the making of confident assertions, absent any qualifications, any expression of uncertainty, any supporting reasons. Qualification, after all, resembles equivocation, and to be equivocal – about anything – is (to a certain sensibility) to be weak, gutless, afraid or unwilling to “take a stand.” And as Nietzsche pointed out, the awareness of a need to give reasons is symptomatic of a diminution of confidence (whether that is a good or a bad thing is something on which Nietzsche was, admirably, equivocal.)

The Imuses, O’Reillys, Limbaughs … the Judge Judys … etc. … are merely an obvious surface manifestation of this. One sees it all over the place. Our so-called political/news “debate” shows. Many a “discussion” thread on the dailyKos. NPR call-in shows like Diane Rheem’s or “Talk of the Nation”, where I, at least, am frequently amazed to hear how many listeners will write or call in to a guest with considerable expertise and experience in some area, someone from whom one might think most of us had something to learn, not with a question, but with a “comment” … proceeding to instruct the guest (and the rest of us) as to the way things really are, without the slightest pretense of seeking a response or further information.

I won’t even get into my numerous depressing years in the classrooms of “elite” and “not-so-elite” universities, trying to encourage a spirit of inquiry.

Or, to take a trivial example, consider those pre-game sports shows on ESPN and the like. You know, the ones where they have four retired football players and one “nerdy” announcer sitting around the table “discussing” the upcoming game in terms that basically boil down to: “You’re wrong.” “No, you’re wrong.” “Both of you are wrong.” “No, you’re wrong.” “You’re all wrong.” (Chummy macho laughter.)

It’s too facile to say that this sort of stuff is so pervasive on the airwaves because people find it entertaining. No, many of them find it positively admirable. To repeat: Authoritative assertion, strength, admirable. Listening, weak, detestable.

How, in such circumstances, can there be a serious, constructive, “national conversation” on even a trivial matter? It would just be “NFL Today” writ large. Very large.

Though it’s fatuous, it bears stating: you cannot talk somebody into listening.

I hope I’m wrong about all this. And if anybody can explain to me why I am … I’m listening.

I was never able to be too enthusiastic about April Fool’s Day, probably due to my recently deceased mother. Having been unlucky enough to be born on April 1, she endured many cruel jokes in her childhood that she related to me in my own, giving me a deep uneasiness about the whole thing.

Once, when she was a little girl, some schoolmates told her they would throw her a birthday party at the home of one of them, with cake, presents, the whole bit. On the big day, she got all dressed up and headed over in excitement. When she got to the home, the schoolmates were there — but of course, no cake, no presents, no party. “April Fool’s! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!”

Small wonder that she, as an adult, never really liked children all that much.

Happy birthday, Mom. Miss you.

And to all you birthday boys and girls out there who share my mom’s misfortune: Happy happy birthday. No fooling.

In his recent memorable rant, Arthur Gilroy summed up the necessity to dispense not only with the current administration, but the entire machinery – including pseudo-lefty bloggers and their ilk – that helps to maintain, and benefits from, the current, deplorable, status quo. He did so with a line from basketball player Michael Ray Richardson:  “The ship be sinkin’.” It got me thinking of other lines from athletes I’ve heard or read over the years, and how oddly well they fit into the current political terrain.  (They’re also funny in their own right.) See if you agree.

Batting first is basketball star Jason Kidd. Kidd was drafted into, and signed with, a pretty hopeless NBA team. Not to worry. As Kidd excitedly proclaimed in his press conference: “We are going to turn this team around 360 degrees!”

Sounds a wee bit like the Iraq Study Group and much of the hype we’ve heard about it, doesn’t it?

“These recommendations add up to nothing less than a 360-degree change of direction!”

At the end of which, of course, we wind up exactly as we started – minus the energy it took to spin around.

Batting second is baseball player Luis Polonia. Just after being traded by the New York Yankees, Polonia was asked why he thought the Yankees traded him. His response: “The Yankees are only interested in one thing. And I don’t know what it is.”

Consider, in that light, the many explanations of the past election – an election whose message was as plain as could be – given by ousted Republicans and clueless pundits and “centrist” Democrats.

“The voters are only interested in one thing. And we don’t know what it is.”

I think that pretty well captures it.

Batting third is a NY Islanders’ goalie whose name I don’t recall. Some years back the Islanders had put on an ill-advised promotion: Mug Night. Every fan in attendance got a free Islanders mug. The Islanders that night played as atrociously as was their wont, and the fans commenced to bombard their own players with their free mugs. Asked afterward how it felt, the goalie quipped: “I’m just glad it wasn’t machete night.”

The recent thumpin’? Ask any Republican. “We’re just glad it wasn’t machete night.” Machete night, however, is on the schedule; you can look it up.

Finally, batting clean-up is baseball player Mickey Rivers, a memorable character who played for the Yankees back when that team was utterly laughable. (And haven’t those years gone down the sports memory-hole? But I digress.) Rivers was asked by a reporter what he thought the Yankees needed. His response was so succinct, so expressive, and so applicable to the present – and to Arthur’s point (I think) – that I’ve made it my signature line. Thus, see below. Cheers!

What we need is a whole new everythin’. — Mickey Rivers

(Inspired by Simon Malthus’s diary and, especially, by certain comments by kansas therein. An expansion of previously posted material.)

There was once a tail who spoke to the dog whose tail it was.

“You would think yourself a dog?” the tail growled menacingly. “Don’t make me laugh! You are a tail; you have always been a tail; you will never be anything other than a tail.

“Now wag, little tail, wag!”

The dog, being a dog and hence responsive to authority, accepted this judgment and did as it was told. As it waved back and forth, its paws dangling absurdly beneath it, it said to itself: “Well, this is all in order, if unpleasant from my standpoint. I must keep in mind that I am just a little tail. Oh, if only I were a dog!”

Passersby stopped to observe the remarkable phenomenon. Some, the more discerning, commented: “Well, we’ve all heard of the tail wagging the dog, but I’ve never seen it actually happen!”

Others said: “Would you look at that. A tail with four legs and a head.”

Inspired by recent events, and by an Arthur Gilroy diary on rather different matters, this variation on “Lover Man” (if you don’t know the song, go look it up):

I don’t know why but I’m feeling so sad
I long to try something I never had
Never got much winnin’
Even with some sinnin’
Power Man, oh, where can you be?

The world’s opposed and I’m always chastised
I’d give my soul just to be recognized
Got an education
Even dedication
Power Man, oh, where can you be?

I’ve heard of deals
But I’ve got my ideals
Still ideals must be traded I know
So I will trade, and I won’t be afraid
That the trade leads where I shouldn’t go

Someday we’ll meet
And you’ll tell me I’m fine
No one will ask
What is me or what’s mine
Waitin’ for you here now
Don’t I make it clear now
Power Man, oh, where can you be?

the toast to DeLay.  Doesn’t this pretty much capture what is at the heart of this “tribute”?

Let’s drink to Hammer; now, raise up your glass!
We know he’s been coarse and we know he’s been crass,
The Hammer’s come down on us all once or twice,
But let’s give him credit; he gave us a slice
Whenever we curtseyed and bowed and played nice.
It’s painful to watch him be tossed on his ass;
So let’s drink to Hammer; now, raise up your glass!

Let’s drink a toast to our friend Tom DeLay!
He’s done what he wanted, and done it his way.
It’s terrible that he’s approaching the end,
But speaking sincerely, and as a true friend,
In this line you look for what’s just `round the bend —
Hell, Tom’s the one got me to thinking this way!
So let’s drink a toast to our friend Tom DeLay!

Raise up your glass with a grateful goodbye!
Thank Tom for the perks and thank Tom for the pie.
Though Tom won’t be long here, or so we expect,
His spirit lives on if you’ll only reflect;
We’ll do what he taught us, but not genuflect
In front of his glowering, menacing eye;
So raise up your glass with a grateful goodbye!

Note: Previously posted as the last comment on a dying DKos diary.