Read this takedown of the “Obama trip costs $200 million a day” lie and let me know.
If you think it’s unfair that we’re only talking about one sliver of the political spectrum here, feel free to dig up something on the Alar scare or some other overeager bleeding-heart cause, go ahead. But I’d have to say this sliver of the spectrum has a remarkable ability to stick with the inaccuracy even after it has been clearly shown to be false.
Years ago, I remember seeing the show Beyond Belief: Fact or Fiction on Fox. I had already done some grad-school research on Rupert Murdoch and come away convinced that he wasn’t a political ideologue but rather a man who didn’t share most folks’ ethical concerns about how to make money. So at the time, I joked the show was Phase 1 of Murdoch’s strategy to run “news” and “entertainment” out of the same Fox division. (Yes, I anticipated FNC’s evolution. What do I win?)
Murdoch is indeed very good at this. His businesses could, as the cliche goes, sell ice to Eskimos. The Economist doesn’t specify FNC by name but remarks with wonder at the Fox-fed Tea Party:
It is a neat trick. Conservative elites pretend to be part of a marginalised cultural force while at the same time orchestrating an electoral bloodbath led by America’s least marginalised people. The fact that this is working so well tells us a lot about who the elites really are and where the power really lies.
Far away from the glamor and high pay of cable lies punditry is the indispensable Politifact. What’s most amazing about Politifact is that it’s virtually the only bulwark we have against the incredible distortions that pass for political advertising these days.
Consider this: We raise a huge stink when a wide receiver catches a touchdown pass and uses a prop in celebration. “Oh, it’s unsportsmanlike! It’s taunting! What horrible role models!” And yet we tolerate behavior several times worse from our politicians.
You’d think you could find some respite from these shenanigans if you watched, say, the History Channel. Apparently not. Today, I stumbled upon Ancient Aliens, which rounded up a gaggle of alleged experts to explain that the archaeologically significant site of Mohenjo-daro, Pakistan, had turned up evidence of an atomic blast taking place thousands of years ago, surely evidence of alien intervention.
In rebuttal, one guy got one sentence.
I dug up a more thorough rebuttal here. But what does it say when the History Channel is entertaining notions of easily refuted nonsense, and I have to find a Google Group to find the truth?
No, I’m not reviving Mostly Modern Media as a political ranting blog. It’ll still be mostly about modern media, which can include everything from newspapers to iTunes. (I am also going to make an effort to put more funny things on here. No point in keeping my wit confined to Facebook when I can inflict it on others as well.)
Over the weekend, The Washington Post ran a truly wretched Outlook piece by Charles Murray, who has resurfaced 16 years after causing an academic shitstorm with The Bell Curve. Murray basically claims there’s a “New Elite” that’s actually rather stupid and out of touch with mainstream America because we don’t watch NASCAR and MMA. (How about one out of two?)
The Economist‘s bloggers came up with two responses. Democracy in America runs one that’s a little unfocused but effectively skewers Murray for simultaneously sympathizing with Tea Partiers’ resentment of the “elites” while reinforcing the notion that the “elites” are, in fact, better:
“Attention all tea-partiers: Charles Murray thinks Barack Obama is smart, and you’re dumb.”
A more concise and more effective response comes from Lexington, which questions Murray’s right to tell us who’s a “mainstream American” and who isn’t.
America is surely too vast and complex for authenticity to be appropriated by any particular social group or pattern of behaviour. Sarah Palin claims to represent “real” American values. But how many Americans have really skinned a moose (or whatever else she claims to do)? And, really, what does it matter?
That nails it.
I went to an elite school (my mom didn’t, and my dad went to a top-flight state school). I even got a master’s degree. Where I live, that makes me typical, not an exception. I don’t think any of my neighbors, classmates or colleagues need to hear Murray, Sarah Palin or anyone else telling us we’re not mainstream Americans. And I don’t think the media ought to be giving them such a megaphone to tell us.
But we “elites” tend to be either postmodernists who want to give everyone a voice or simple masochists.
In 2010, I won’t be making any comment on politics and the media. Everything I post, no matter how well-intentioned, spawns a comment thread that I really don’t enjoy. And a lot of it is based on political beliefs that I don’t necessarily have. My comments aren’t driven by a desire to favor one party or one politician. They’re driven by a frustration that the truth is being obscured. Basically, we in the media are getting played like a Mike Mangini drum kit.
So before I shut my mouth, I’d like to make one humble suggestion for the media in 2010: It’s time for a reverse McCarthyism.
Here’s what I mean: McCarthy was a master manipulator of the press. He knew when to make his statements to coincide with press deadlines. Wire services put the newest info first; most newspapers cut wire stories from the bottom up. The result: A lot of newspapers with a whole lot of unchallenged McCarthy statements. (See Joe McCarthy and the Press, by Edwin Bayley.) Edward R. Murrow changed all that by challenging McCarthy and calling out his misstatements.
We couldn’t get played like that again, could we?
Here are a look media manipulation, then and now:
| Similarity | Then | Now |
| Media weaknesses | Deadline structure Reticence to challenge officials |
Focus on conflict and snark Postmodernist “all viewpoints are valid” approach Lack of time |
| Exploited by … | Well-timed releases Spurious claims |
Outlandish, misleading or incorrect statements |
| Populist/paranoid appeal | Anti-Communism Anti-intellectual |
Anti-tax Anti-intellectual Anti-war Anti-terrorism |
So the challenge for journalists in the coming year will be to channel their inner Murrow (or Jon Stewart) and challenge what they’re hearing. If that appears to favor one “side” in the oversimplified red-blue political divide, tough. Maybe discrediting some of the more extreme folks on one “side” will let more reasonable voices come to the fore.
Good luck with that. In the meantime, I’ll be tuning out a lot and reading some alternative media. Maybe even some books.
Happy 2010, everyone.
I don’t read as many album reviews as I did in my late teens and early 20s, so I was pleased to see from this insightful Rolling Stone review that the art form isn’t dead.
The key sentence, repeated on the Wikipedia entry for the album, is this: “The result is a dark, strangely compelling record that trades the group’s bright melancholy for something nearer to despair.”
I’m not an expert on DCFC by any means, having just gotten past the name (had I known it came from Neil Innes, I would’ve made the leap sooner) and heard some wonderful songs on Pandora. But I can tell that they walk a very fine line in their exploration of melancholy places — sometimes brilliant, sometimes whiny. Aimee Mann walks that line as well, though when she falls short, her efforts just sound dreary. DCFC runs the risk of lapsing into a depressed 16-year-old’s journal entry.
Let’s make this clear first: Narrow Stairs is a very good album. Most of the album’s best offerings are uplifting in some way despite the subject matter. Cath … takes care not to judge too harshly when someone gives up a bit of passion to marry the “well-intentioned man.” Grapevine Fires captures the anxiety and impending sense of loss while watching wildfires sweep over neighborhoods while sounding a few notes of resilience. My favorite song that hasn’t had wide release is Your New Twin-Sized Bed, which is written in second person and gently prods the subject not to give up so easily.
Judging from the comments rounded up in the Wikipedia entry, the band was worried about releasing I Will Possess Your Heart, written from a stalker’s point of view. They needn’t have worried. It’s really no different in theme from Sarah McLachlan’s Possession, and it’s just as well-written.
For me, any controversy begins with No Sunlight. The bouncy melody and enthusiastic first verse disguises the fact that the rest of the lyrics are completely nihilistic. It’s a clever artistic technique to have lyrics and music so different in tone, but the lyrics are just too lazy for the song to work. Perhaps if it were a little more ironic, it would work as some sort of “Oh, they’ll be hanging me in the morning” death song you’d expect from the Irish, but it’s all too simple. When the protagonist was young, the sun was shining and he loved it. Then as he got older, clouds formed, and he didn’t like it. That’s disappointing.
The album closer, The Ice Is Getting Thinner, is just as disappointing. It’s entirely too hopeless and entirely too simple.
Also disappointing is the video for Grapevine Fires, which removes one interesting theme in the lyrics — a little girl dancing in a cemetery — and substitutes a storyline in which a main character’s girlfriend is devoured by the fire, either metaphorically or literally. Once again, the complexities are removed, and we’re left with something a little too heavy-handed, like those latter-day ER episodes in which they just tried to outdo themselves in tragedy.
The point here isn’t to pick on Death Cab for Cutie, not when they’re clearly a cut above their peers. This is constructive criticism. Musically, every song on this album is interesting. Most of the songs also have something to offer lyrically. They’re capable of greatness, and they achieve it on several songs here and a soundtrack offering called Meet Me On the Equinox, a breathless take on the old “carpe diem” sentiment. They just need to remember to pull back from the edge and take another look at the scenes they’re painting when they get too close to hopelessness.
Going back to my music-magazine-devouring days, I remember Husker Du sounding a bit of regret over their mope-rock album Candy Apple Grey, saying they had a few fans with dark circles under the eyes coming up and saying, “I really loved that album.” Like Candy Apple Grey, Narrow Stairs captures a band at the peak of its musical power. Husker Du added some musical savvy to a punk-rock foundation; Death Cab for Cutie has extraordinary melodic talent.
Husker Du’s Bob Mould broke into a pretty good solo career with a song called See a Little Light. Perhaps a little light would help the gifted Death Cab for Cutie reach the next level and produce a masterpiece with their next release.
Hate Disney World if you must. Fine. It’s a small world, but there’s still room for diverse opinions.
Just have a reason for doing so other than thinking you’re just too cool for the whole experience.
At Slate, Seth Stevenson takes a shot at the land of the Mouse:
After spending the past five days here, I’ve come to the conclusion that Disney World teaches kids three things: 1) a meaningless, bubble-headed utopianism, 2) a grasping, whining consumerism, and 3) a preference for soulless facsimiles of culture and architecture instead of for the real thing. I suppose it also teaches them that monorails are cool. So there’s that.
Except that he doesn’t develop any of those points.
He sees “bubble-headed utopianism” in the “It’s a Small World” ride but concedes that he finds it charming. “It’s an unassailable message, and there’s also something comforting in the ride’s retro simplicity.”
The rest of his complaints:
1. Disney World sells packages to people who go roughly once a year. Isn’t that excessive? People buy time shares near warm-weather golf courses all the time. Think of Disney World as some great golfing that happens to have a few amusement parks within a shuttle or monorail ride, and is it really so strange?
2. Had Disney lived longer, his utopian vision might have mutated into something like L. Ron Hubbard’s. OK. And if Jim Morrison had lived longer, the Doors might have become a Christian rock band. Lots of historical determinism there, and it has nothing to do with the park itself.
3. Disney World is like a church of Disneyism! Just look at all the weddings in the Magic Kingdom! Weddings, you say? That’s a sign of religion? If that were true, shouldn’t we all pray facing Vegas?
4. Between the Mickey/Minnie gender roles and the princess/pirate split among kids, Disney World reinforces gender stereotypes. OK, sure, the storytelling in Disney films can be a little old-fashioned. But plenty of kids have favorite characters who aren’t so easily pinned down. What the hell is Stitch, anyway?
5. Everything is so sanitized. The fireworks always start at exactly 9 p.m. The berms hide the Dumpsters. Concealed trash? Fireworks starting on time? Those freaking Nazi bastards!
Look, if I want to see Dumpsters, I’ll walk out behind my local grocery store. (It’s not in front? Those freaking Nazi bastards!) If I want to see a little utopian fantasy land, I’ll go to the Magic Kingdom.
And he doesn’t even scratch the surface of what you can actually see in Disney World. Animal Kingdom’s safari ride gives you the closest view of wild animals you could possibly want. If you’re tired of the “Small World” utopianism, take your pick from the rides at any of the parks.
He briefly mentions Epcot — “Mightn’t it be better to broaden your children’s horizons just a tad? Like, maybe visit Canada—instead of just the Canada pavilion in Epcot?”
Notice that he mentions Canada. Notice how different — and how elitist — this sentence would read if he had said, “Like, maybe visit Japan — instead of just the Japan pavilion in Epcot?”
Those of us who have neither tens of thousands of dollars nor eight weeks of annual vacation to travel the world with our kids appreciate the chance to go culture-browsing at Epcot. Even if we had all the time and money in the world, we might still take the Epcot highlight reel.
We don’t live far from the National Zoo, but we still check out the panda cam on occasion. If we use a shortcut like that instead of packing up and driving 30-40 minutes, would we really pack up and fly to Mexico every time we want to see something vaguely Aztec?
Essentially, this guy’s arguments boil down to some what-ifs and some complaints about consumer behavior. If people take Disney World as something more than an occasional escape, if they buy time-shares, if their girls dress as princesses, if they only see international culture at Epcot and if they get married at the Magic Kingdom … then they might have warped views on gender roles and garbage collection.
When he takes Disney World for what it is rather than what obsessed fans with no sense of reality make of it, he enjoys it.
But how unhip a story would that be?
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