Poetry is Dangerous

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Monday July 02, 2012 · 4:24 AM PDT

2012/07/02 · 04:24

This part is true: It’s September 11, 1973. The democratically-elected president of Chile is committing suicide with an AK-47. * With the backing of elements of the United States government, ** Augusto Pinochet is seizing power, ready to transform Chile into a quasi-fascist state and assassinate, execute, and torture with impunity across South America.

This part might be true: It’s September 11, 1973. Roberto Bolaño, poet, author, and all around leftist, has returned to Chile to “help build the revolution.” But Chile has fallen to a right wing coup d’etat, and Bolaño, like so many leftists, is arrested.

Shef

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Tuesday June 26, 2012 · 4:00 AM PDT

2012/06/26 · 04:00

The aughts seem to stretch on into 2012, and they really should be called “the naughts,” Harper’s Roger Hodge quips, for [t]hey will be remembered chiefly for their wants. For my particular generation--just out of college, up to its eyeballs in debt and ambition--the naughts are the decade that will not die. “This frustrated, discontented class has spent a decade with their noses pressed against the glass,” Christopher Hayes writes in his new book, Twilight of the Elites. We wait, “watching the winners grab more and more for themselves.”

At the turn of the teens, it looks like we’ll be waiting another decade, too.

Shef

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Sunday June 24, 2012 · 8:19 AM PDT

2012/06/24 · 08:19

The center was not holding.
-Joan Didion, “Slouching Towards Bethlehem”

[T]here is Occupy Wall Street, whose activists skew much younger, but who, if my experience in speaking with them is representative, are drawn from a similar class profile as MoveOn members and Daily Kos diarists. Most are college educated, now saddled with tens of thousands of dollars in college debt and no job prospects.
-Chirstopher Hayes, Twilight of the Elites

THE CENTER WAS NOT HOLDING. It was a country of bankruptcy notices and public-auction announcements, and people were underwater; their homes were underwater. Grover Norquist wants to drown the government in the bathtub, and the firefighters watched the Cranicks' home burn for want of a fee. It hits 100 degrees in Brooklyn: we break the fire hydrants, and children dance in the streets. Last year, heat waves caused rolling blackouts, and we prepare for the worst. Read More

Texas Justice

Shef

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Friday December 09, 2011 · 7:15 PM PST

2011/12/09 · 19:15

TOOLS OF THE TRADE

Until 1923, with the exception of four men executed by firing squad during the Civil War, Texas sent condemned men to the gallows. In 1977, lethal injection was chosen as the means of execution, and in 1982, Charlie Brooks, Jr. became the first man in Texas to die by the needle. His last words, duly recorded by the state that would kill him, praised Allah: “Verily unto Allah do we belong; verily unto him do we return. Be strong.” Seven minutes later, if all went according to plan, he would be dead.

In most states, lethal injection is a three-step process. It begins with the injection of a sedative, usually sodium thiopental—a drug that, as Rachel Maddow points out, is better known as truth serum. Then the prisoner is injected with pancuronium bromide, a muscle relaxant that collapses the diaphragm and lungs. Finally potassium chloride is administered to stop the heart.

In late 2010, the nation faced a shortage of sodium thiopental. In January of that year, the only American manufacturer of sodium thiopental stopped production. In response, the state of Georgia illegally bought the drug from “Dream Pharma,” which, according to the BBC, is based out of a London driving school. The state used the drug in two executions before the DEA intervened. If they hadn’t stepped in, the state of Georgia would have used the illicitly purchased sodium thiopental in the recent execution of Troy Davis.

Now Georgia, along with Texas and many other states, uses pentobarbital in the first step of their executions. Pentobarbital is a pet tranquilizer, used by veterinarians to put down animals.

Shef

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Thursday December 01, 2011 · 7:49 PM PST

2011/12/01 · 19:49

On September 21, 2011, thousands masked themselves with the face of a convicted cop killer and set the face of someone who pistol-whipped a homeless man as their profile pictures. The words, "I am Troy Davis," were on all their lips. I am as guilty of it as anyone—those desperate, deceptive acts of liminal solidarity. When Troy Davis died at the hands of his government for a crime he may not have committed, what else was there to do but speak the same shibboleth?

Davis was sentenced to death in 1991. He was executed by the state of Georgia twenty years later. "Davis spent half of his life on death row," Roxane Gay writes at the Rumpus—"spent that half-life knowing he was on a slow, agonizing march to an unrelenting end." In August of 2010 at his last best hope for a reprieve, he presented affidavits from seven witnesses who spoke at his original trial. Those seven had all, at least in part, recanted their testimony. The judge ripped them apart, calling their disavowals incredible or immaterial or both. The defense's case, he said, was "smoke and mirrors."

Shef

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Saturday August 13, 2011 · 10:26 AM PDT

2011/08/13 · 10:26

Moloch whose eyes are a thousand blind windows! Moloch whose skyscrapers stand in the long streets like endless Jehovahs! Moloch whose factories dream and croak in the fog! Moloch whose smokestacks and antennae crown the cities!
-Allen Ginsberg, “Howl”

The Roman senator Cato, I learned today, is supposed to have ended every speech by saying, “Carthage must be destroyed,” and when the Romans finally took his advice, Garret Keizer tells me in the most recent Harper’s, “they found within the walls of the domed city a multitude of clay urns containing the charred bones of children.” Sacrifices to the great god Moloch—a god who demands human sacrifice.

What, I wonder, will some future civilization think when they comb through the ghosts of America’s cities. There won’t be urns of bones; No, our children are sacrificed without fanfare or remembrance. But make no mistake, we feed them to Moloch with zeal of ancient Carthaginians.

Shef

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Thursday July 21, 2011 · 7:45 AM PDT

2011/07/21 · 07:45

Here's a joke as old as television: What's the most dangerous place in Washington? Between a congressman and a camera.

Here's a joke as old as the debt ceiling negotiations: What's the most dangerous place in Washington? The mind of a House Republican. Also, between a House Republican and a camera. Also, between a House Republican and a ham sandwich. Really, anywhere near a House Republican is a dangerous place.

Shef

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Tuesday July 19, 2011 · 3:21 PM PDT

2011/07/19 · 15:21

(For notes on how I put this graph together, see me after the flip...)

That bump you see in the New Home Price Index is the housing bubble. If that's a bubble, what do you call the skyrocketing cost of elections? I'm not sure what it means that the last decade has seen such a massive spike in the amount of money floating around, but it can't mean anything good.

That last spike, the one in 2010, that is just the start of Citizen's United; just imagine the spike in 2012 when President Obama's up for reelection and the inevitable corporate-backed attack ads hit.

As I see it, there are three ways to defend ourselves. If you're like me, then you don't have a lot of money to give, but you do have enthusiasm. I know that I intend to give my time and energy—and lots of it. The second way to defend ourselves is to support the few progressive counterweights we have, organized labor and groups like MoveOn.org. Lastly, information is power, and if we can shine a light on this money by passing something like the DISCLOSE act, then we might have a shot at shaming corporations when and if they give big money to conservative causes.

Shef

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Monday July 18, 2011 · 9:18 AM PDT

2011/07/18 · 09:18

In 1964, Barry Goldwater lost. And not by a little, either: he lost by a lot. He carried 6 states and 52 electoral votes. Sixteen years later, Ronald Reagan won. And not by a little either: he won by a lot. He carried 44 states and 489 electoral votes. It took sixteen years, to paraphrase George Will, for the votes to be counted, and Barry Goldwater won.

In February of 2011, the people of Wisconsin lost. And not by a little, either: draconian cuts, a full assault on the rights of working people, a budget repair bill that repaired only the bottom line of the moneyed. Less then a year later, the people of Wisconsin are winning. It'll take a little while, but when the votes are counted, the people of Wisconsin will win.

Shef

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Sunday July 17, 2011 · 6:47 AM PDT

2011/07/17 · 06:47

“I believe in God and I believe in free markets”
-Ken Lay

Sometime yesterday afternoon, my mailman arrived with the post. It never ceases to amaze me that, for a modest fee, you can hand a man an envelope and have it arrive a few days later anywhere in the country. Someone put something with my name on it in a blue box, and yesterday it came to me. Amazing.

It is the weight of the world, carried by men and women in blue shorts and overflowing messenger bags. Even though, these days, I get more bills and advertisements than things I really want to see, I still get the Nation, the New Yorker, Harper's, and, every once and a while, a hand-written letter from a correspondent—yes, I still have a few of those; there are still tidings from afar, news of the world, a letter signed love, yours, truly.

Yesterday, it was Harper's. And this morning, I sat on my stoop with a cup of too-hot coffee and paged through it. The “Easy Chair” section of Harper's remains my favorite. They are essays in the true sense of the word. Attempts, tries, tests, experiments—from the French essayer. I'm trying to understand the world, they whisper. I can't help think, when I read good essays, that blogging, with all it's faults, yes, is purest form of essay writing: A little short, quick publishing times, sometimes poor polishing, but blogging is trying—experimenting. That, though, is a thought for another essay.

Shef

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Friday July 15, 2011 · 11:49 PM PDT

2011/07/15 · 23:49

There weren't fiddles in first-century Rome; there were lyres. And when the great fire of Rome consumed the city, there's little more than rumor and myth to say that he was playing anything—lyre or fiddle. But that's the historical analogy we have. It's a pregnant image, after all, and we've always favored casting the American republic as Rome of old.

These days, it's a hard analogy to shake.

Our political media and political representatives are consumed with the high theater of debt negotiations, playing the sweet song of shared sacrifice and debt reduction to themselves while America watches her jobs burn.

But we can't push the analogy much further. Even Nero couldn't have imagined that his fiddling would put out the fire. Songs don't put out fires.

Shef

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Wednesday March 30, 2011 · 7:55 AM PDT

2011/03/30 · 07:55

Look, I like Lawrence O'Donnell. Sure, he's a slow talker and occasionally a bit repetitive, hammering home on issues whose relevance seems dubious at best, but I like him. He reminds me of a grandfather—a grandfather who tells me about the issues of the day and beats up (in very grandfatherly way) on people who generally deserve it. I think I even like him more than Keith Olbermann, with whom I had a very complicated relationship (call me, Keith, you handsome devil).

But last night (or this morning, when I watched the video online), he made the curious pronouncement that Rand Paul's position on Libya was incoherent. In general, when I hear that Republican X's position on issue Y is incoherent, I say something to the effect of, no shit. (Deficits are bad; let's cut taxes! Freedom is good, unless you're a woman, or gay, or me! The middle class is in trouble; let's shovel money into the mouths of corporations and the really, really, really rich! I could do this all day.)

Rand Paul is confused about a lot of things, but his position on Libya—roughly, we should have intervened, but President Obama's action was unconstitutional as it didn't get a declaration or war or authorization of military force from congress—is not only understandable, but true.

(Before I continue, I should probably tell you that Rand Paul is something of an ass, and please God let this be the only time I find myself defending him.)

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Poetry is Dangerous

The Naughts: A Review of Twilight of the Elites

Slouching Towards Somewhere

Texas Justice

We are not Troy Davis

Human Sacrifice

The Most Dangerous Place in Washington

Money Money Money

Willing to Lose

Nothing to Fear

Fiddling

Lawrence O'Donnell is Wrong