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The universe of online computer games is home to 200,000 players at any time. It's also where you can find the newest innovation in military recruiting.

It's only August, but I'll go out on a limb and congratulate the
Village Voice
's Keith Harris for what I feel confident will stand
the test of time as the stupidest comment of the year. "Because his
vision of rock and roll is so grand, Springsteen requires a popular
consensus as surely as any invasion of Iraq. And as we've learned yet
again, nothing sparks phony consensus like national cataclysm. Maybe
that's why, for the past few days, a nagging thought has burrowed into
my brain that I wish was merely the snide aphorism I initially took it
for: If there hadn't been a September 11, Bruce Springsteen would have
had to invent one."

Like an Ann Coulter bestseller or a Rush Limbaugh radio rant, Harris's
review is idiotic but instructive. Aside from its self-evident (and
self-incriminating) silliness, what galls about the comment is its
willful forfeiture of the common cultural ground upon which Bruce
Springsteen plies his trade. Does 9/11 belong only to George Bush and
Donald Rumsfeld? Is American popular culture the exclusive preserve of
Spielberg, Bruckheimer and Britney?

While managing to keep both feet planted in the mainstream, Springsteen
has done more than any American artist to give voice to the American
"other" that pop culture would prefer to forget: the humiliated Vietnam
veteran, the fired factory worker, the hunted illegal immigrant, the
death-row inmate, the homeless person living beneath the bridge and
Amadou Diallo, a West African immigrant, accidentally murdered by
forty-one shots from New York's finest. With his 1994 AIDS ballad
"Streets of Philadelphia," Springsteen became the first heterosexual
rock star ever to sing in the voice of a homosexual man, in a work
that--as Ann Powers, who was then writing brilliant music criticism in,
uh, the Village Voice, observed--succeeded in crossing "the
barriers of class, race, and gender."

Springsteen is vulnerable to criticism on any number of grounds,
artistic and commercial, but his willingness to offer solace in troubled
times strikes me as pretty low on that list. Springsteen was literally
stopped in his car after 9/11 by someone who cried out, "We need you."
Monmouth County, where he lives, lost 158 people in the towers. He
played a couple of local benefits. He read, repeatedly, about the
meaning of his work to his fans in the New York Times's
"Portraits of Grief." He called a few widows, shared their stories and
made a record. It's what he does. "I have a sense of what my service to
my audience is going to be," he explains. "It's the true nature of work
in the sense that you're filling a place. And that place comes with its
blessings and its responsibilities." So sue him.

It is a separate question as to whether one thinks the art that emanated
from this impulse is wholly successful. With regard to The
Rising
, I can argue the point either way. But to take issue with the
very idea that art can be a balm to those in pain--or, as Springsteen
puts it, "music is medicine"--is cynicism itself. And to the degree that
this is at all representative of leftist attitudes, it speaks for an
impotent and self-defeating left: too smug and self-satisfied to engage
the culture of the common people, preferring instead to smirk on the
sidelines.

Granting both its sincerity and its (inconsistent) genius, The
Rising
does nevertheless raise some complicated questions about art,
politics and commerce. One has to go back to 1984--to Springsteen's own
Born in the U.S.A.--to find a rock record that was marketed as
energetically to mainstream America. After decades of relative
reclusiveness, Springsteen is suddenly everywhere in the mass media:
taking over the Today show in Asbury Park, on David Letterman two
nights in a row, ditto Ted Koppel, on MTV, Saturday Night Live,
simultaneous covers of Time and Rolling Stone; long
interviews with the New York Times, the LA Times and
USA Today. I half expected him to duet with Elmo or Big Bird over
breakfast. It should surprise no one that the record entered the charts
at No. 1 in eleven countries.

The problem arises--just as it did with Born in the U.S.A.--when
the work's cultural signification overwhelms its artistic essence; what
Nietzsche, in Twilight of the Idols, termed "the thing itself."
The dilemma for anyone who seeks to use popular culture to communicate a
message at odds with its market-driven heart of darkness is: who's using
whom? Did Springsteen accidentally empower Reaganism back in the
mid-1980s as he simultaneously denounced it? Is he somehow cheapening
the individual tragedies of which he writes and sings by performing
these haunting melodies at the ungodly hour of 8:30 am in the happy-talk
context of a Today show beach party?

Matt Lauer asked Springsteen whether he feared being accused of
exploiting the tragedy of 9/11, and Springsteen told him to listen to
the music and make up his own mind. The same might be said of his
willingness to embrace (and exploit) America's mighty mass-marketing
machine.

The answer has to be a personal one. In Asbury Park, I did some random
interviewing of people who had traveled many hours, and waited on
overnight lines, in the hope of seeing Springsteen perform four songs in
the Convention Hall for the Today broadcast. I spoke to a
firefighter who had gone into the burning buildings, a 16-year-old girl
who was repaying her mom for waiting ten hours on line to get 'NSync
tickets, a woman with her 5-year-old son, who, back in '85, enlisted her
entire family in a weeklong wait for tickets. Nobody mentioned Matt or
Katie. Nobody mentioned the marketing campaign. Nobody even complained
about the all-night wait and the uncertainty that they would be allowed
inside the hall. They were there for Bruce because Bruce was there for
them. In the midst of what Springsteen accurately terms "a theater of
humiliation on TV and on the radio, a reflection of self-loathing," they
had created a community around something better. This was their
hometown.

(Don't forget, while those Nation folks are on vacation,
www.altercation.msnbc.com.)

Hot media news: Women want hard-hitting reports on issues that affect them.

These days, it's the media conglomerates who are drunk with power--demanding a larger share of the nation's airwaves and threatening to turn the World Wide Web into an electronic theme park--and

Speaking on NPR recently, Cokie Roberts, the soon-to-retire co-host of
ABC's This Week, falsely informed her listeners that "the
President was exonerated by the Securities and Exchange Commission." In
fact, even though his daddy was the President of the United States
during the incident in question, after a remarkably relaxed
investigation the SEC informed Bush's lawyer that its decision "must in
no way be construed as indicating that [George W. Bush] has been
exonerated."

Call me sentimental, but I'm going to miss the old gal. With no
discernible politics save an attachment to her class, no reporting and
frequently no clue, she was the perfect source for a progressive media
critic: a perpetual font of Beltway conventional wisdom uncomplicated by
any collision with messy reality.

Lippmann/Dewey fans will remember that the very idea of a watchdog press
breaks down when the watchdog starts acting like--and more important,
sympathizing with--the folks upon whom he or she has been hired to keep
an eye. With Cokie, this was never much of an issue. Her dad was a
Congressman. Her mom was a Congresswoman. Her brother is one of the
slickest and wealthiest lobbyists in the city. Her husband, Steve
Roberts, holds the dubious honor of being perhaps the only person to
give up a plum New York Times job because it interfered with his
television career. And together they form a tag-team buck-raking/book-writing enterprise offering up corporate speeches and dime-store
"Dear Abby"-style marriage advice to those unfortunates who do not enjoy
his-and-her television contracts.

Cokie came to public attention at NPR, where she developed some street
cred as a Capitol Hill gumshoe, but apparently grew tired of the hassle
of actual reporting, which only helped her career. With no concern for
the niceties of conflicts of interest, she and her husband accepted
together as much as $45,000 in speaking fees from the very corporations
that were affected by the legislation she was allegedly covering in
Congress. Moreover, she claimed something akin to a royal prerogative in
refusing to address the ethical quandary it obviously raised. (A
spokesman responding to a journalist's inquiry said that Queen Cokie's
corporate speaking fees were "not something that in any way, shape or
form should be discussed in public.")

Apparently, nobody ever told Cokie that the job of the insider pundit is
to at least pretend to be conversant with the major political, economic
and intellectual issues in question before putting these in the service
of a consensually derived story line. The pedantic George Will and the
peripatetic Sam Donaldson at least give the impression of having
considered their remarks ahead of time, either by memorizing from
Bartlett's or pestering politicians. Not Cokie. Once, when a
reporting gig interfered with one of her many social and/or speaking
engagements, she donned a trench coat in front of a photo of the Capitol
in the ABC studios in the hopes of fooling her viewers. She was not a
real journalist; she just played one on TV.

Still, her commentary was invaluable, if inadvertently so. As a pundit,
she was a windup Conventional Wisdom doll. The problem with Bill
Clinton, for instance, was that he was the wrong sort for Cokie and her
kind. "This is a community in all kinds of ways," she told Sally Quinn
during the impeachment crisis. "When something happens everybody gathers
around.... It's a community of good people involved in a worthwhile
pursuit." Here was her analysis of the complicated constitutional
questions impeachment raised: "People who act immorally and lie get
punished," she proclaimed, noting that she "approach[ed] this as a
mother." (Her own children are fully grown, but perhaps they're real
sensitive...) "This ought to be something that outrages us, makes us
ashamed of him." When the country refused to go along with the ironclad
Broder/Cokester consensus, she supported impeachment anyway, because
"then people can lead public opinion rather than just follow it through
the process." These same "people," meaning Ken Starr, Newt Gingrich and
Cokie's friends, made a return appearance in Cokieworld when the Supreme
Court handed Al Gore's victory to George W. Bush following the Florida
2000 election crisis. "People do think it's political, but they think
that's OK," she averred. "They expect the court to be political, and
they wanted the election to be over."

All this is relevant to those of you who are not dewy-eyed about Cokie's
departure--or Dewey-eyed about democracy, for that matter--because
Cokie's inadvertent honesty helps us understand how George W. Bush ever
made it to the White House in the first place. Why are we hearing about
Harken Oil only today? Why did the press ignore the evidence of Bush's
personal and professional dishonesty back in 2000, when it still
mattered? Meanwhile, these same reporters concocted stupid stories about
Al Gore's penchant for "exaggeration," misreporting the simplest facts
on his (essentially accurate) claims about the Internet, Love Canal and
Love Story. It's not as if evidence of Bush's unsavory past was
unavailable. I wrote about it twice on MSNBC.com, in the fall of 2000,
following a damning Talk magazine exposé of Bush's
suspicious business ethics, written by Bill Minutaglio and Nancy Beiles,
and based on documents made public by the Center for Public Integrity.
But nobody cared. The Times, the Post, the Journal,
CBS, ABC et al.--who had all championed Ken Starr's $70 million
investigation of a $30,000 unprofitable land deal--did not think Bush's
fortune-making sweetheart deals were worth more than the most cursory of
investigations. (Let's not even bring up the dubious Texas Rangers deal
or the missing years in his National Guard record.)

How did the media--and hence the nation--manage to miss these stories?
Just ask Cokie: As she explained back then in defense of herself
and her colleagues, "The story line is Bush isn't smart enough and Gore
isn't straight enough. In Bush's case, you know he's just misstating as
opposed to it playing into a story line about him being a serial
exaggerator." Thus spake Cokathustra.

For more, check out www.altercation.msnbc.com during The Nation's
summer lull. We never take vacations at Altercation.

Guerrilla Radio, published by NationBooks, is the remarkable story of B92, a Belgrade radio station founded in 1989 by a group of young idealists who simply wanted to "play rock 'n'

One of the most persistent myths in the culture wars today is that
social science has proven "media violence" to cause adverse effects. The
debate is over; the evidence is overwhelming, researchers, pundits and
politicians frequently proclaim. Anyone who denies it might as well be
arguing that the earth is flat.

Jonathan Freedman, professor of psychology at the University of Toronto,
has been saying for almost twenty years that it just isn't so. He is not
alone in his opinion, but as a psychologist trained in experimental
research, he is probably the most knowledgeable and qualified to express
it. His new book, Media Violence and Its Effect on Aggression,
surveys all of the empirical studies and experiments in this field, and
finds that the majority do not support the hypothesis that violent
content in TV and movies has a causal relationship to real violence in
society. The book is required reading for anyone who wishes to
understand this issue.

I should say at the outset that unlike Freedman, I doubt whether
quantitative sociological or psychological experiments--useful as they
are in many areas--can tell us much about the effects of something as
broad and vague in concept as "media violence." As a group of scholars
put it recently in a case involving censorship of violent video games:

In a field as inherently complex and multi-faceted as human aggression,
it is questionable whether quantitative studies of media effects can
really provide a holistic or adequately nuanced description of the
process by which some individuals become more aggressive than others.

Indeed, since "media violence" encompasses everything from cartoons,
sports and news to horror movies, westerns, war documentaries and some
of the greatest works of film art, it baffles me how researchers think
that generalizations about "effects" can be made based on experiments
using just one or a few examples of violent action.

Freedman, by contrast, believes that the experimental method is capable
of measuring media effects. This may explain why he is so indignant
about the widespread misrepresentations and distortions of the research
data.

He explains in his preface that he became interested in this area by
happenstance, and was surprised when he began reading the research to
find that its results were quite the opposite of what is usually
asserted. He began speaking and writing on the subject. In 1999 he was
approached by the Motion Picture Association of America (MPAA) and asked
to do a comprehensive review of all the research. He had not previously
received organizational support and, as he says, "was a little nervous
because I knew there was a danger that my work would be tainted by a
connection with the MPAA." He agreed only after making it clear that the
MPAA "would have no input into the review, would see it only after it
was complete, and except for editorial suggestions, would be forbidden
to alter what I wrote. Of course," he says,

they asked me to do the review, rather than someone else, because they
knew my position and assumed or at least hoped that I would come to the
same conclusion after a more comprehensive review. But there was no quid
pro quo. Although I was nervous about being tainted, I am confident that
I was not. In any case, the conclusions of this review are not different
from those of my earlier review or those I expressed in papers and talks
between 1984 and 1999.

The book proceeds meticulously to examine the approximately 200 studies
and experiments that Freedman was able to find after an exhaustive
search. (He suggests that the exaggerated numbers one often
hears--1,000, 3,500 or simply "thousands" of studies--probably derive
from a statement made by psychologist John Murray in the early 1980s
when the National Institute of Mental Health sponsored a review of the
media violence research. Murray said that there were about 2,500
publications of all kinds that were relevant to the review. This is far
different, of course, from the number of empirical experiments and
studies.)

Freedman begins with laboratory experiments, of which he found
eighty-seven. Many commentators have noted the artificiality of these
experiments, in which snippets of a violent film or TV show are shown to
one group of viewers (sometimes children, sometimes adolescents or
adults), while a control group is shown a nonviolent clip. Then their
level of "aggression" is observed--or rather, something that the
experimenters consider a proxy for aggression, such as children hitting
a Bobo doll (an inflatable plastic clown), delivering a "white noise"
blast or--amazingly--answering yes when asked whether they would pop a
balloon if given the opportunity.

As Freedman and others have pointed out, these laboratory proxies for
aggression are not the real thing, and aggressive play is very different
from real-world violent or destructive behavior. He comments:

Quite a few studies with children defined aggression as hitting or
kicking a Bobo doll or some other equivalent toy.... As anyone who has
owned one knows, Bobo dolls are designed to be hit. When you hit a Bobo
doll, it falls down and then bounces back up. You are supposed to hit it
and it is supposed to fall down and then bounce back up. There is little
reason to have a Bobo doll if you do not hit it. Calling punching a Bobo
doll aggressive is like calling kicking a football aggressive. Bobos are
meant to be punched; footballs are meant to be kicked. No harm is
intended and none is done.... It is difficult to understand why anyone
would think this is a measure of aggression.

Freedman notes other serious problems with the design of lab experiments
to test media effects. When positive results are found, they may be due
simply to the arousal effect of high-action entertainment, or to a
desire to do what the subjects think the experimenter wants. He points
out that experimenters generally haven't made efforts to assure that the
violent and nonviolent clips that they show are equivalent in other
respects. That is, if the nonviolent clip is less arousing, then any
difference in "aggression" afterward is probably due to arousal, not
imitation. Freedman's favorite example is an experiment in which one
group of subjects saw a bloody prizefight, while the control group was
shown a soporific film about canal boats.

But the most striking point is that even given the questionable validity
of lab experiments in measuring real-world media effects, the majority
of experiments have not had positive results. After detailed analysis of
the numbers that the researchers reported, Freedman summarizes:
Thirty-seven percent of the experiments supported the hypothesis that
media violence causes real-world violence or aggression, 22 percent had
mixed results and 41 percent did not support the hypothesis. After he
factored out experiments using "the most doubtful measures of
aggression" (popping balloons and so forth), only 28 percent of the
results were supportive, 16 percent were mixed and 55 percent were
nonsupportive of the "causal hypothesis."

For field experiments--designed to more closely approximate real-world
conditions--the percentage of negative results was higher: "Only three
of the ten studies obtained even slightly supportive results, and two of
those used inappropriate statistics while the third did not have a
measure of behavior." Freedman comments that even this weak showing
"gives a more favorable picture than is justified," for "several of the
studies that failed to find effects actually consisted of many separate
studies." Counting the results of these separate studies, "three field
experiments found some support, and twenty did not."

Now, the whole point of the scientific method is that experiments can be
replicated, and if the hypothesis is correct, they will produce the same
result. A minority of positive results are meaningless if they don't
show up consistently. As Freedman exhaustively shows, believers in the
causal hypothesis have badly misrepresented the overall results of both
lab and field experiments.

They have also ignored clearly nonsupportive results, or twisted them to
suit their purposes. Freedman describes one field experiment with
numerous measures of aggression, all of which failed to support the
causal hypothesis. Not satisfied with these results, the researchers
"conducted a complex internal analysis" by dividing the children into
"initially high in aggression" and "initially low in aggression"
categories. The initially low-aggression group became somewhat more
aggressive, no matter which programs they watched, while the initially
high-aggression group became somewhat less aggressive, no matter which
programs they watched. But the children who were categorized as
initially high in aggression and were shown violent programs "decreased
less in aggressiveness" than initially high-aggression children who
watched neutral programs. The researchers seized upon this one highly
massaged and obscure finding to claim that their results supported the
causal hypothesis.

Freedman examines other types of studies: surveys that compare cities or
countries before and after introduction of television; experiments
attempting to assess whether media violence causes "desensitization";
longitudinal studies that measure correlations between aggressiveness
and preference for violent television over time. No matter what the type
of study or experiment, the results overall are negative. Contrary to
popular belief, there is no scientific support for the notion that media
violence causes adverse effects.

Why, then, have not only researchers and politicians but major
professional associations like the American Academy of Pediatrics and
the American Medical Association repeatedly announced that thousands of
studies have established adverse effects of media violence? One reason
was suggested to me recently by a pediatrician active in the AAP. The
organization's guidelines argue for scientific support for policy
statements. This puts the AAP in a serious bind when, as is the case
with media violence, its leaders have a strong opinion on the subject.
It's tempting then to accept and repeat assertions about the data from
leading researchers in the field--even when it is distorted or
erroneous--and that's what the professional associations have done.

Another factor was candidly suggested by Dr. Edward Hill, chair of the
AMA board, at a panel discussion held by the Freedom Forum in New York
City last year. The AMA had "political reasons," Dr. Hill said, for
signing on to a recent statement by professional organizations asserting
that science shows media violence to be harmful. The AMA is "sometimes
used by the politicians," he explained. "We try to balance that because
we try to use them also."

Because Jonathan Freedman believes the scientific method is capable of
measuring the impact of media violence, the fact that it hasn't done so
is to him strong evidence that adverse effects don't exist. I'm not so
sure. I don't think we need science to know from observation that media
messages over time can have a powerful impact--in combination with many
other factors in a person's life. Some violent entertainment probably
does increase aggression for some viewers, though for as many or perhaps
more, the effect may be relaxing or cathartic.

If the media do have strong effects, why does it matter whether the
scientific research has been misrepresented? In part, it's precisely
because those effects vary. Even psychologists who believe that the
scientific method is relevant to this issue acknowledge that style and
context count. Some feel cartoons that make violence amusing have the
worst effects; others focus on stories in which the hero is rewarded for
using violence, even if defensively.

But equally important, the continuing claims that media violence has
proven adverse effects enables politicians to obscure known causes of
violence, such as poverty and poor education, which they seem largely
unwilling to address. Meanwhile, they distract the public with periodic
displays of sanctimonious indignation at the entertainment industry, and
predictable, largely symbolic demands for industry "self-regulation."
The result is political paralysis, and an educational structure that
actually does little to help youngsters cope with the onslaught of mass
media that surround them.

When Ted Rall's cartoon "Terror Widows" appeared on the New York Times website on March 6, angry letters of complaint poured into the

Writing in a forthcoming issue of The Journal of Israeli History
about Israeli revisionism, Mark Lilla of the University of Chicago's
Committee on Social Thought makes the observation that while American
neoconservatives like to present themselves as people who "care deeply
about ideas," in truth "they are engaged in intellectual life...not out
of curiosity or natural inclination, but out of a purely political
passion to challenge 'the intellectuals,' conceived as a class
whose political tactics must be combated in kind." Hence, the
"quasi-militaristic rhetoric," the "cavalier use of sources and
quotations," and the frequent "insinuations of intellectual bad faith
and cowardice, even treason." This style marks them, Lilla notes, as a
new breed: the "counter-intellectual."

A former editor of the neocon policy journal The Public Interest
and author of The Reckless Mind: Intellectuals in Politics, Lilla
observes that among his older friends, some "had once been genuine
intellectuals who made important contributions to history and
criticism." Their obsessive hatred of the culture of the sixties,
however, induced them to renounce "any intellectual ambitions that did
not serve the cause of restoring the cultural status quo ante. As
for the young people they inspired and frequently sired, they became
counter-intellectuals without ever having been intellectuals--a unique
American phenomenon." Neocon history, Lilla explains, is one of
"political success and intellectual failure." He laments, "To judge by
the kinds of articles published in magazines like Commentary and
even Partisan Review in this period, it was hard to imagine that
writers like Lionel Trilling, Clement Greenberg, and Delmore Schwartz
had ever graced their pages."

The mass media never noticed this transformation. If you look, for
instance, at the reviews of David Brock's book Blinded by the
Right
--wherein Brock laments the moral and intellectual decline from
Norman Podhoretz to homo-hating son John--even die-hard liberals take
the old guys on their own self-flattering terms, as if the neocon
parents were men and women of profound idealism while the "minicon"
children can muster only attitude. Well, as John Lennon used to say,
"The dream is over." The neocons have shown their true intellectual
colors, and they are not pretty.

As The Chronicle of Higher Education recently reported, Irving
Kristol, Gertrude Himmelfarb, Hilton Kramer and the intellectual
historian John Patrick Diggins have all withdrawn from a conference
honoring the work of Sidney Hook, to be held at the City University of
New York. Diggins, according to conference organizer Robert Talisse,
went so far as to threaten not only to convince others to stay away but
also to convince certain funding institutions to withdraw their money
(and hence, destroy the conference). The alleged crime: Somebody invited
Cornel West to replace Richard Rorty as a featured guest.

Now whatever one may think of Brother West's recent political
activities--and I think very little of them--he is a recognized scholar
of both Hook and the pragmatist tradition in which the latter labored.
Rorty, for instance, whose authority on pragmatism nobody dares to
question, praises West's The American Evasion of Philosophy as "a
novel piece of intellectual history." The book contains a long and
thoughtful discussion of Hook.

The Chronicle reports that this Gang of Four felt West to be "not
enough of a scholar" to justify their presence. This is a bit like a
little league coach claiming Barry Bonds is "not enough of a hitter" to
play a game of sandlot ball. Kristol and Kramer have made careers as
ideological entrepreneurs and polemical publicists. They cannot boast a
single work of lasting scholarly significance between them. Gertrude
Himmelfarb and John Patrick Diggins are both serious, albeit unusually
combative and ideology-minded, historians. Both have shamed themselves
with this act of combined intellectual cowardice and conservative
political correctness.

Harvard president Larry Summers, a neocon hero, lost West to Princeton
at least in part because of his willingness to confront him with
unfounded rumors that the deeply committed teacher was stiffing his
students. West saw his name dragged through the mud in conservative and
some not-so-conservative publications due to his willingness to take his
scholarship and inspirational personal presence beyond the territories
traditionally traversed by Harvard's University Professors. The great
irony of the CUNY conference on Sidney Hook is that it finds West doing
just what Summers and his critics complained he had neglected:
participating in the scholarly life of the academy.

One wonders just what is so frightening. Perhaps it is a sense of being
outgunned. I have seen West debate the elder Podhoretz at a conference
sponsored by the Whitney Humanities Center at Yale, and the two proved
so mismatched I left feeling a little sorry for Norman. Equally likely,
however, is the fear that a leftist like West will remind audiences that
their putative hero died a proud socialist. He may have been a fanatical
anti-Communist, but his passions derived from an honest engagement in
the life of the mind, something the neocons long ago forfeited in their
love affair with power.

Ironically, West told Sam Tanenhaus that he didn't know he had been
invited to the conference and was wholly unaware of having caused a
conservative boycott. He explained, however, that he had been planning
to go anyway--as a spectator. He saw a notice about it in The New
York Review of Books
and looked forward to catching up on the recent
scholarship on Hook. West recalled that back in 1985 he had flown from
California to Washington, DC, to be present for Hook's Jefferson Lecture
and had the opportunity to tell the then-83-year-old philosopher how
important his work had been to him.

Hook never succeeded in fusing Marx with Dewey, just as West, in this
view, is still quite a distance from combining Gramsci with Sly Stone.
They agreed on virtually nothing about the cold war or the culture wars.
But they did share a commitment to follow their ideas wherever they
might lead, and to take on all comers in a spirit of good faith and
honest engagement. We can all learn from that.

Southern Exposure, which somehow looks--even in its third decade,
in the twenty-first century--as if very advanced high school students
had just stapled it together and put it on your doorstep (that's a
compliment...The Nation strives for that effect, too), is still
doing a fine job on its old beat: investigating the strange mix of
culture and corporatism that has made the South what it is today. By
extension, every issue poses the same basic question: What exactly is
America? In looking at the South in great detail over many decades,
Southern Exposure has begun to propose, although not explicitly,
some answers.

First, America is a place that advocates equality but thrives on
inequality. In the 2002 Spring and Summer issue, which is subtitled "The
South at War," James Maycock has published a piece on the black American
soldier's experience in Vietnam--especially for people who did not live
through the civil rights movement and that terrible Southeast Asian
conflict, this piece will be riveting. "I'm not a draft evader,"
declares one African-American draftee on reaching Canada. "I'm a runaway
slave."

America is also a place where the Marlboro Man has not abdicated, as
Stan Goff shows in his gonzo essay on Vietnam and American masculinity
(in fact, it has crossed my mind that all those ads may have been psy-ops prep for George W. Bush's ascendancy). And last, America is a
place that loves the Army. In its useful and unassailable roundup on the
Southern states and the war industry, Southern Exposure comes up
with important facts. The dollar amount of military contracts to Florida
companies alone last year amounted to $15.2 billion. The military, of
course, is a good place to have your money right now. For example,
Florida's education budget was slashed by 4.2 percent last year while
the stock of Northrop Grumman and Raytheon, two of the largest companies
with investments in Florida, were up 25 percent and 40 percent,
respectively. Nutshell portraits of thirteen states provide a real sense
of the give and take between politicians, the military and the job
market, and population in places where the military chooses to spend.

Note also: Of the top twenty-one cities involved in military production
in 2001, excepting Hartford, St. Louis, Indianapolis and Seattle, every
city on the list is in the South or in California. According to
Southern Exposure, 66 percent of the weapons sold to Israel under
the Foreign Military Sales program were produced in the South. The South
has helped situate America in the world today; that puts it in a unique
moral position. But after reading this issue of Southern
Exposure
, one really wonders: Do most Southerners care?

Yoga's Antiterror Position

After reading about B-29s and F-16s and macho men and Hellfire
missiles made in Orlando--of all places--I was happy to read a few
magazines that go to other extremes. Of the two big yoga magazines
available on the newsstand, Yoga Journal is the yogis' Vanity
Fair, and Yoga International is their Real Simple. We
can dispense with the latter except for the pretzel-position pictures,
but Yoga Journal is a very good niche magazine--good niche
publications take their subject and use it expansively, as a jumping-off
point. The June issue has an excellent and anthropologically important
piece by Marina Budhos on how yoga practice in the West, especially
among Americans, is changing the age-old practice in India, the
Americans behaving like cargo cultists in reverse.

Budhos found that many of the Indians in an Indian ashram (where, by the
way, the hatha yoga teacher was "a really tough Israeli") were attending
because they "were interested in teaching yoga as a career." Many of the
foreigners were simply having yoga fun on vacation--although, as I have
discovered while doing the tortoise position, the word "yoga" and the
word "fun" should never be used in the same sentence. Daniel Ghosal, an
Indian-American, says the Americans who come to India for yoga are seen
by the Indians as "kind of 'cracked.'" Indians don't think of yoga as a
social trend. "The lighting of candles and all that," Ghosal says
dismissively. "To Indians, it's just yoga."

"The Path of the Peaceful Warrior," by Anne Cushman, is also an amusing
piece. In it--after lighting a fire with newspapers in which she sees
headlines about terror and anthrax burning away, and after "folding into
the silence and surrender of a deep forward bend" (that's classic yoga
writing; you just have to push past it)--Cushman proposes a "Yogic
Battle Plan for the War on Terror." I suppose it's better than beefing
up your naval program at Newport News...

The first step: "Stop." I like that. That should be the entirety of an
Op-Ed piece on the Middle East crisis.

There is also "Contemplate death." Under that weighty heading, Cushman
includes this nice aperçu: "The American government's
instruction to 'Be on high alert, yet go about your ordinary life' may
have struck many people as all but impossible, but that paradoxical
injunction is actually...a core yogic practice." (Don't tell Rumsfeld!)
Under "Look Deeply," Cushman cites Tricycle editor James
Shaheen's remark that bin Laden was "inadvertently speaking the Buddhist
truth of interdependence when he said, 'Until there is peace in the
Middle East, there will be no peace for Americans at home.'" "Practice
nonviolence" is another step in the yogic battle; "take action," the
last. By the end, Yoga Journal is beginning to sound like the
editors of Southern Exposure.

Sad News

Earthtimes, the monthly environmental and social paper
spiritedly edited for twelve years by the effervescent Pranay Gupte, is
folding up shop after July for lack of funding. As Gupte said in a
farewell note to colleagues: "Undercapitalization is always bad for
business; zero capitalization is worse. Since my basement press is
beyond repair, I can't even print rupee notes any longer to sustain
Earthtimes." That's Gupte and the tone of Earthtimes,
too--in moments of pain and crisis, a quiet, self-deflating, sustaining
humor.

Blogs

Charlie Rangel, "Top Secret America" and a new addition to Altercation.

July 23, 2010

Eric explains his problem with Nascar.

July 22, 2010

How many times is the Obama administration going to roll over for Glenn Beck?

July 21, 2010

Christopher Hayes responds to Joan Walsh's claim that recently published JournoList e-mails prove his "Obama worship."

July 21, 2010

Even after all the "lamestream media" coverage, new data shows Sarah Palin's "Mama Grizzlies" video was largely ignored by her supporters and watched mostly by consumers of traditional media.

July 14, 2010

A recap of the week in politics and media, with Palin, Weigel and beetles.

July 9, 2010

On the Weigel and McChrystal sagas and more of the week's absurdities.

July 2, 2010

Eric bemoans life and responds to some reader e-mail.

July 1, 2010

Flies, rats, bees, demagogues, demons and dog whistles.

June 30, 2010

Esther Kaplan, Editor of the Nation Institute's Investigative Fund, argues that investigative journalism has played a vital role in unearthing just how and where the three American hikers were detained by Iran.

June 30, 2010