Sunday, August 10, 2014

Downfall II: Oval Delirium

Watched NIXON BY NIXON: IN HIS OWN WORDS on HBO. If you need a reminder of what criminals presidents are, check it out.

I remember Nixon in real time. He resigned when I was 14, my liberal stepmother choking up and feeling sorry for him as he quit in self-pity.

Fuck him, I thought. I knew little about politics then, but I recognized nastiness when I saw it. (Plus, my mother and stepfather were big fans, as were their friends, so that added to the indictment.)

As American politics verged to the right, with Clinton and Obama appropriating and implementing reactionary policies, Nixon seemed in retrospect almost benign. But his taped conversations reveal him for the venal piece of shit he was.

Anti-Semitism. Misogyny. Racism. Queer bashing. A complete disregard of and active hostility to political pluralism. And perhaps most distasteful of all, bloodlust for the Vietnamese.

The blood on Nixon's hands hardened into crust. Kissinger's too; listening to his banal endorsement of carpet bombing is particularly sickening. But it was Nixon who set the bar.

He berates his generals for not being savage enough. He openly wishes he could wipe out Vietnam altogether -- "level it," as he repeatedly says. None of his aides dissent. All go along with the slaughter.

None of this brought down Nixon. However weary the country was with Vietnam, it was regarded as standard, if misguided, policy. Only when Nixon attacked a powerful target did his political career collapse.

Unlike antiwar dissidents, the Democratic Party had serious mainstream pull. It was one thing to spy on the Black Panthers and the Yippies; it was quite another to wiretap people connected to corporate and private wealth.

Early on, Nixon brushes off Watergate. At best it'll be a footnote. But after his re-election, more and more emerges about the operation. Nixon can't believe it. He rails like a madman in his bunker, seeing enemies everywhere.

They did exist. Nixon had baited powerful people for too long, and this was their revenge.

Of course, Nixon was never punished for his crimes. US presidents never are. He was allowed to retire and write books about grand strategies. His apologists appeared throughout the media, scolding us for destroying a great man.

Nixon destroyed himself. He became a cautionary tale for future presidents. (Iran/contra was much worse than Watergate, yet Reagan survived untouched. Appropriately enough, they named an airport after him.) Still, imagine how Nixon would enjoy Obama's NSA and drone wars.

He'd be right at home, along with the rest of us.

Monday, April 15, 2013

The Other Johnny Ace

I loved Jonathan Winters. I share some of that love in my latest Splitsider piece. Or peace.

Friday, April 12, 2013

Here, Queer, Etc.

Un-friending someone on Facebook is the new Fuck You.

Social media has forged fraudulent ties. Relationships based on fantasy and nostalgia. A delicate ephemeral balance. Upset that, watch anger rain down.

I discovered this recently after banishing a handful of Facebook friends. Some for being boring. One for racist jokes. One relative (we've since reconnected). And my ex-wife.

It took her nearly two weeks to notice, but when she did, she expressed shock. Why?! What did it mean? It seemed to her an act of aggression.

Not quite. Fact is, I'm currently writing about her and us in JANITORGOD, my next book. My ex haunts me more than I care to admit. Getting it down is ripping me up.

This is a good thing. Necessary and long overdue. Dealing with her on Facebook clouded my creative judgment. So, click click, goodbye!

Many of you have asked if I've done the same thing with this space. For a time, yes. The idea of blogging bored me. What more to say?

I've put most of my creative juice into the book, with energy leftover for casual Tweets. This sharpened my focus and prose. I look at old posts, disgusted by the fat. Taking a break was the right move.

Does this mean I'm back? Maybe. Depends on my mood.

There's so much pious bullshit to counter. America has always been cracked, but the symptoms are getting worse. We truly are a lunatic nation.

Who wants to immerse themselves in that? There's no real escape, but one can lower the temperature. A bit, anyway. The flames still burn.

Speaking of friends, I've reconnected with Mark Neely, whom I knew in my early NYC days.

Mark was a working actor. Appeared on TV and in films (he's Julia Louis-Dreyfus' boyfriend in SOUL MAN). He introduced me to 1920s jazz. Had an intense, infectious laugh.

Mark and I laughed a lot together. His sense of humor was even weirder than mine.

He'd made several short films for his amusement. I must have watched them a dozen times. Then he suggested we make one together.

It was largely an improvised shoot. We were inspired by the early Keystone shorts. Comedies made in public with passersby staring into the camera and at the actors.

It's an odd little movie. Not much to it. Brings back memories of that time more than it raises laughs.

I lived on the Upper East Side with my girlfriend Mary. We were macrobiotic, which explains my rail-thin figure.

I performed improv in the West Village. Was about to write my first Letterman submission. Thought I was the shit.

Within a year, Mary left me. I moved to LA and wrote for Ray Combs, staying for a time with Mark. Life seemed more serious out there.

Hoo haw.

Anyway, here it is. Shot in September 1984. A few weeks before I turned 25. My Echo and the Bunnymen haircut was growing out. And at 1:18, I was nearly hit by a car. Art!

Friday, December 7, 2012

As SNL Fades

Last Monday, I popped up to NYC to attend a memorial for Tom Davis in SNL's Studio 8H. It was a very emotional evening, in more ways than one. Here's how I saw it.

Monday, November 26, 2012

Mystic Memory Chords

My hair smelled like ketchup for a week.

To animate a fifth grade history report, I staged a reenactment of Lincoln's assassination. Promises of stage glory snared fellow students; but since it was my script, I got to play Lincoln.

A girl I had a crush on was in this class. Janet was ahead of the other girls in overall maturity. She seemed like a woman to me. Impressing her required Method-like attention to detail.

It was a compressed production. I breezed through Lincoln's more memorable quotes, fake beard, construction paper stovepipe hat, and long overcoat adding to the effect.

Then came the action sequence. Sitting on a foldout chair watching an invisible play, my Lincoln nodded appreciatively, unaware of lurking doom. The kid who played John Wilkes Booth had trouble with the cap pistol in rehearsal, and I feared that his ineptitude would ruin the crucial moment.

Thankfully, the pistol fired, making a loud pop. Concealed in my hand was a glob of ketchup. I slapped my head in reaction to the shot, ketchup squirting through my fingers and onto the floor. A low ohhh came from the students. I caught a quick glimpse of Janet smiling.

Go to black. Battle Hymn of the Republic plays on a cassette machine. Behind a partition I wrapped my head in a white cloth soaked with ketchup. Lights slowly up. I'm lying on a bench serving as a death bed. The kid over me said "Now he belongs to the ages" as my head slumped to the side, ketchup dripping on the tile.

Dennis Perrin's Sam Peckinpah's Lincoln.

My teacher thought I'd sacrificed historical importance for special effects, but the kids seemed to like it. Until the next day and several days after that.

"Your hair stinks, Perrin! Ever hear of shampoo?"

Yes, but it took over a week to finally erase the smell. By then, whatever minor inroads I'd made with Janet vanished. But skinny nerdy Shannon with glasses and retainer followed me around for a bit.

Growing up, Lincoln was shoved in our faces, far more than any other president. At the time of my staging, Nixon was president, so Lincoln stood in even sharper relief.

No one I knew questioned Lincoln's greatness. It took Gore Vidal to show his darker side, drawn largely from Lincoln's law partner and friend William Herndon. This inspired nasty reactions from what Vidal called the "Lincoln priests," academics devoted to a more uplifting version of Honest Abe.

In the end, it seems the Lincoln priests have won. Obama's shameless evocation of Lincoln provided them fresh juice, and I suspected that Steven Spielberg and Tony Kushner channeled this into their film.

Much of it is there. As others have noted, Spielberg bathes Lincoln in near-holy light. The monument made flesh. Lincoln's haggard, worn features seem to glow. He is man, myth, and deity.

But that's lighting and framing. Daniel Day-Lewis gives Lincoln unprecedented life. Not even Sam Waterston's 1988 revisionist portrayal comes close.

Day-Lewis' Lincoln speaks in a higher register than previous interpretations, rural twang evident but not overwhelming. According to Herndon, Lincoln and wife Mary Todd engaged in furious arguments. Day-Lewis and Sally Field's recreation is absolutely riveting. A pissed off Lincoln must have been intimidating. But it appears that Mary Todd gave as good as she got.

Hints of the reluctant abolitionist Lincoln are present, yet Spielberg and Kushner spend more time on the passage of the 13th Amendment than on Lincoln's view of slavery. This frees Day-Lewis to concentrate on personality instead of politics. And he does a damn fine job of it.

I ended up liking this Lincoln more than I'd imagined. He was, as Vidal showed, an ambitious, depressed, brilliant man. I doubt that many American moviegoers would enjoy or appreciate Vidal's version. But the thought of Day-Lewis playing that Lincoln entices beyond words.

As for the politics of the film, I recommend friend Corey Robin's essay and links. For me, Spielberg's Lincoln was an entertaining historical drama that stirred warm feelings I thought long ago dead.

The boy who loved American history remains. Ketchup bottle in hand.

Sunday, November 18, 2012

Blood On The Wind

All state leaders are crazy to one extent or another. Part of the gig. Impossible to avoid.

But Benjamin Netanyahu enjoys his own personal brand. He's easily one of the most unbalanced men currently in power.

Netanyahu seems to enjoy his reputation. He takes great relish in meting out murderous violence, justifying it with a sly grin. His hatred and contempt for the Palestinians is unmatched.

A great number of Israelis appreciate and support Netanyahu's act, which is why he has no hesitation in terrorizing Gaza. It wins him votes, sharpens his renown.

The cruel irony is that every time Israel flips out, it further weakens its ultimate power. Without US protection, money and weapons, Israel would be in worse shape. It's not doing well as it is.

Would a humbled Israel behave more humanely? I've read arguments that say yes, but I doubt it. At least in the short run. It's hard to turn off a killing machine that essentially defines your culture. Changing a brutal nationalist mindset is tougher still.

So, for the time being, we have a heavily-armed rogue state doing pretty much what it wants without fear of serious repercussions. This forces its backers to beat and strangle the truth more than they usually do, primarily in the States.

Major media reporting on Gaza isn't just bad, it's macabre. To hear the New York Times, NPR or CNN tell it, Israel is the nation under siege. Like London during the blitz. Gazan firepower is relentless and forever deadly. How embattled Israelis hold up under such pressure is a testament to their strong values and national pride.

This narrative has been in place since I first wrote and spoke about the Middle East over 20 years ago. Time has not been kind to the official narrative; more and more people have studied the actual history, spread further by social media.

Instead of democratizing major media minds, this expanding awareness compels corporate outlets to pound harder the official narrative. The result is beyond ridiculous. Reporters and commentators appear as liars and fools. Since they serve interests more lucrative than truth, I doubt this keeps them up nights.

Also, anti-Palestinian racism plays a large role, but unlike the stale narrative, that hatred remains fresh.

Meanwhile, the slaughter continues on our dime and with our acquiescence. Reactionaries love Israeli violence, especially if it coincides with Biblical "prophecy." Liberals are too in love with Obama to raise their meek voices.

That leaves the rest of us. Whoever we are.

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Second Time As Tragedy

Spent the final week of election season in Paris. Apart from peeks at CNN Europe and the BBC, I was mercifully free of American hysteria.

Taxi drivers preferred Obama over Romney, whom they'd never heard of until recently. But overall there was indifference to the contest. American electoral politics appeared distant and strange to them. They didn't display the envy our media insist is shared globally. Instead, I envied their detachment.

Obama won easily, as this space predicted months ago. I told liberal friends to relax, that their flawed savior would sail to victory. They didn't want to hear it. Many whipped themselves into bizarre frenzies, fretting about the coming Romney Reich, the GOP Gestapo, and related apocalyptic visions.

I know that contemporary liberalism defines itself primarily through fear, but this was borderline insane. An Obama supporter emailed to ask that I stop predicting Obama's win. "You're scaring me," she said. I replied that she was scaring herself. She said that kind of thinking might jinx the outcome.

That's what amused me most about the election: I absolutely despise Obama's behavior, yet I had more confidence in his campaign than most of the Democrats I know.

Once the inevitable occurred, liberals became as delirious as they had been afraid. Suddenly, everything was right. They knew it all along. Americans weren't as stupid as they had assumed.

In reality, nothing changed. A few hours after his victory, Obama bombed Yemen, killing who knows how many people (or "terrorists" as the bodies are officially tagged). The next day he began pitching his Grand Bargain, a new deal where Medicare and Social Security are expected to receive the kind of cuts that Dems warned would happen had Romney won.

The rest of Obama's corporatist agenda, from widening surveillance to extrajudicial executions to privatizing public education, is laid out before him. He's free to be the Real Barack, which he's pretty much been up to now.

There will be no significant liberal resistance to this. Unlike Obama's first term, when libs could feign a betrayed innocence, there is no hiding from what is obvious. Obama's grisly record can be justified, explained away, downplayed or ignored, but it cannot be suppressed.

Obama is the first true 21st century president: a corporate technocrat streamlining authoritarian rule. Eventually, a Republican president will be elected to enjoy the expansive power Obama has given the office. Liberals might take notice then, but it'll be more about personality than policy.

Hate the sinner. Tolerate the sin.