on the death of bin Laden

On Sunday night, I received a text message with the news that Osama bin Laden was dead. My first thought was: well, this will be good for Obama's chances of reelection. Cynical and crass, I know. Afterwards, I had trouble falling asleep, as the apparent momentousness of the occasion began to set in. We've been hearing about this mission for so many years now.

Upon reflection, I think my initial reaction comes from a belief that while symbolically important, bin Laden's death hardly changes practical reality. The same risks abound-- iconic as we have made bin Laden, global terrorism is not a one man shop and people will continue to organize. The reduction of the problem to bin Laden's face has always been a gross simplification more suited to rhetoric than reality. Moreover, as many commentators have pointed out, the recent plethora of peaceful grassroots resistance movements across the near east have perhaps diminished the standing of al Qaeda and other similar groups and the appeal of their violent methods. There was much to be hopeful about before Sunday, and that remains the case today.

It's revealing to hear how people reacted and how they felt about the myriad public reactions. Conspiracy theorists questioned whether he was actually dead. These guys decided to get rich selling t-shirts. On Facebook, a friend noted the following:

It's weird to be joyous over someone's death. A bit unsettling.... but
that's how it is... how i felt..."

This sentiment was manifested at its most extreme by the crowds cheering in downtown Manhattan and at the White House. I count myself among many who found this deeply troubling. Some have used the term bloodlust to describe the frightening character of what were essentially pep rallies. It doesn't seem right to revel in death this way. I can understand that the 9/11 victims' families and friends must have felt a sense of closure upon hearing the news. I do not wish to belittle or deny their right to catharsis, and perhaps knowledge of this bit of justice will help them find some resolution. Nevertheless, these people must continue to live without their loved ones. While the world is certainly safer and better without Osama bin Laden in it, we cannot undo the damage he once wrought. Not even by killing him.

Fundamentally, I think it's important to acknowledge how fundamentally tragic this whole situation is. That we have even come to this moment is sad on the deepest level. Against this understanding, happiness seems wholly inappropriate and seems to miss the point entirely.

keeping it handsome

California is a weird place. People like to surf and they wear flip flops year round. And apparently, they are also obsessed with Cory Booker.

My friend Reid (of Gonna Start Picklin' fame) and a few of his friends in LA have started a great new podcast called Handsome Afternoons. They describe it as "four men about town discussing all things handsome. Politics, arts, and culture, with good cheer and warm weather." They've managed to mention Cory Booker twice in just five episodes.

The bottom line: it's very funny and entertaining. I recommend you give it a listen.

[iTunes link]
[posterous link]

the trump card

Donald Trump is an idiot and a fool. I'll assert that without argument and I'm happy to hear from those of you who disagree. Moreover, I'll anticipate his rebuttal and make it clear that I think he is an idiot and a fool even if he does have more money than Mitt Romney. His transparent sham of a presidential campaign ought to be laughable; unfortunately, it is deeply unnerving for all of the attention he has gotten. His high poll numbers probably say more about a lack of enthusiasm with the slate of Republican candidates so far than they do about voter interest in Trump himself. All the same, as someone who lives in the USA, I find it deeply depressing (if tantalizing as someone who wants the Democrats to win again in 2012).

Consequently, I was very disappointed when President Obama released his long form birth certificate, vindicating and legitimizing Trump and all the other crazy birthers he was riling up. It is hard for one to overstate how profoundly offensive this whole 'campaign' has been. Let's call a spade a spade: these absurd birther claims are awful and frighteningly vicious examples of racism. Trump reinforced the racial animus in his attacks when he bizarrely began to make claims that President Obama was somehow unqualified to attend Columbia and Harvard (read: affirmative action admit). Again, I will refrain from even making arguments here, because this is not a legitimate conversation or critique.

The point is this: what a low moment for a great democracy when the President has to sustain continued attacks on the legitimacy of his birth and citizenship, of all things! Have any past Presidents even come close to this kind of a blatant disrespect? In my view, the unnecessary release of this document was a surrender to lunacy. Trump doesn't deserve the time of day, let alone the satisfaction.

Arguably, there was some political gain in this release. I don't see it-- obviously the Democrats would love for Trump to be the Republican nominee, because he would be so easily defeated. Nonetheless, it's hard to believe there is any actual chance of this happening. Given this, I can't see what the political motive would be. On the other hand, President Obama has obviously proven himself to be politically masterful, and his strategists no doubt have better instincts than mine.

Speaking of which, President Obama went on to crush Trump at the White House Correspondents' Dinner. Check it out.

mad about mad men

** Warning: this post contains spoilers about the finale of Mad Men Season 4.

The most captivating and heartwarming romance on Mad Men has been that of the audience slowly falling for Pete Campbell. Don Draper saw it before the rest of us did. As the third season drew to a close, Don warmed to Pete Campbell. In the final episode of the season, Don Draper singled out Pete to be a young partner at the new agency. With a start, I realized that I too had developed a soft spot for Pete Campbell. Without my knowledge, Pete had transitioned from being that whiny entitled brat to one of my favorite characters on the show. This transition was subtle, sneaky, and yet completely believable. It's a prime example of the kind of magic that Mad Men writers typically produce. Surprising, engaging and understandable.

Which brings us to the final episode of the last season: Tomorrowland. It was awful. Yes, after all these months, I'm still upset about how terrible this episode was. Maybe Don Draper is ahead of the curve again and I'm missing something, but until this proves to be the case, I'll remain frustrated and disappointed.

It wasn't just that we wanted to see Don stick it out with Faye. Television that always indulged our obvious desires and never surprised would be boring television. I didn't need things to go smoothly. I needed things to go believably. That Don would so abruptly convince himself that he was in love and propose to Megan was ridiculous and most importantly unsupported by the writing before that episode. Sure, we saw her come onto him clumsily in a prior episode. We saw him glancing at her in the penultimate episode, suddenly realizing that she was pretty. Still, what about the whole season with Faye? What about the laps in the swimming pool, getting past alcoholism? In short, why did the writers toss all of Don Draper's growth out the window, and why did they do it so clumsily?

Having said all that, do we really need to wait until 2012 for redemption?

West on Obama

reading make believe

When it comes to selecting books to read, I try to alternate between fiction and non-fiction. Of course I will occasionally break the rule if I become very engaged with an idea or with an author, but as much as possible, I try to stick to this heuristic. I like rules of thumbs and this one helps me to ensure that I am reading a good balance of fiction and non-fiction.

Some of my friends claim to only read non-fiction. This always strikes me as odd; my initial reaction is you're missing out on so much! When I ask why, people usually tell me that they feel like it would be wrong to waste time on fiction when there is so much out there for them to learn and become aware of. As the thinking goes, why read a made up story when there are real things to learn about. Surely our western revere for the liberal arts should leave us better off than to fall prey to this deeply flawed and illogical conclusion. To think that we don't learn from literature is deeply disrespectful to the world of art and betrays an arrogance in placing other fields of knowledge on a pedestal.

Fiction, and the fine arts generally, teach us things about humanity and emotion that we cannot always gleam from non-fiction. You won't learn as many facts. I can acknowledge this, but when did knowledge ever end (or even begin) with facts? Art gives us a better understanding of the peripheries. Fiction is a part of this tradition.

Oddly, I hear this sentiment most often from those friends who have some political and social awareness and engagement. Implicit in their reasoning is a haughty self righteousness: these people are too principled to waste time on fiction when there is a world to better. To this, I would respond: it is no coincidence that so many great thinkers have lauded the critical importance and indeed necessity of a vibrant arts community in any successful democracy. This is not just fluffy feel-good talk. Where else can we explore the boundaries of acceptability and possibility? In fiction and make believe, we can explore our potential. We can subtly dissent and ask questions of authority that in other forums may prove to be more uncomfortable. We can be provocative and say: "Oh that? It was just make believe." All the same, people will be thinking.

It seems to me that fiction is particularly important as an antidote to the worship we accord to free market capitalism in so many developed economies. In choosing to read fiction and partake in the arts, we acknowledge the inherent limits of the market-based analysis that so often consumes us. We acknowledge that not everything can be priced and that the best of an enlightened society means broadening our thinking beyond a cold and simplistic understanding of utility. Moreover, as I alluded to above, the arts provide a safe space where we can collectively challenge prevailing norms and explore our limits in a socially acceptable way.

I would love to hear from some of you who choose to only read non-fiction. From my vantage point, you are stunting your own personal development and also failing to engage fully as social and political beings. I'd welcome your arguments otherwise.

strength in numbers

Enough is enough. I'm tired of all the hate being directed at labor unions.

The casual ease with which Americans now talk about outlawing unions and collective bargaining is breathtaking in its audacity. The normalcy accorded to this very radical idea is evidence of just how far right political discourse has moved in the USA. The state legislature in Wisconsin passed just such a law and despite some early press coverage, the story has turned out to be basically a non-event. Teachers have once again been made out to be villains in order to advance this agenda. We have an odious Supreme Court that is so cruel and dismissive of individuals that it effectively denied women the right to sue for any substantive back pay if they discover that their employer has been paying them less than a man with an identical job. Against this legal backdrop, unions are more important than ever!

Where is the moral wrong is forming an organization to represent collective interests? Though the very word 'union' has come to connote corruption and inefficiency, let's not forget that it's ultimately just a group of people coming together to negotiate from a position of greater strength. The owners are always organized: it's embedded into the very structure of a corporation. Management acts collectively on behalf of the owners. Similarly, in the case of public employees, government organizations act collectively on behalf of the taxpayers. To assume that unionized employees are somehow 'cheating' the companies that employ workers is either disingenuous or dangerously ignorant. If anything, the unfair situation is in preventing workers from organizing and leaving them to negotiate in isolation against an obviously organized ownership.

I am by no means trying to make the argument that unions have not made some bad decisions. Of course they have. Nevertheless, it takes a suspension of reason to leap from this fact to the conclusion that unions should not have the right to exist. Consider that most every type of organization has made mistakes; notably, corporations have routinely made devastating financial and environmental mistakes in only the past few years. Consider also that a union can only negotiate. Thus, every bad deal struck by unions has been a deal struck by bad management. Where are the calls for outlawing corporate organization? There haven't been, because that would be irrational. If one sets aside ugly politics and stops to think, it becomes evident that the same is true for unions.

wondering

when did we start calling comic books graphic novels?

if you think this is over then you're wrong

In a matter of weeks, a new Radiohead album was announced, talked about, released electronically and hotly debated. That all of this happened without a word on this blog shows how much I've neglected this writing. Writing is important and valuable to me, so I will humbly apologize and try to kick start this up again with my thoughts on the new album, The King of Limbs.

Many of you know me as a faithful and loyal fan of Radiohead. In high school, I sought out their 'secret' listening parties in obscure locations around Toronto so that I could hear the new albums just a few weeks before their wide release. I dutifully wore (wear) t-shirts with funny bears on them and smiled knowingly when other fans would subtly acknowledge my rock music credibility. I loved Hail to the Thief. I sincerely believed that Radiohead had not made a single misstep since Thom Yorke jumped into that pool on MTV in 1994. So maybe I was a little crazy. But not too crazy, and not without company in my opinions.

After winning reelection in 2004, George W. Bush memorably said "I've earned political capital and I intend to use it." In many respects, Radiohead have built a career out of attempting to do just this with the 'artistic' capital they've earned from a loyal base of fans. OK Computer was widely heralded as one of the greatest rock albums in a generation almost immediately after its release. From this point on, beginning with Kid A / Amnesiac a few years later, Radiohead went on a tear of repeated reinvention with each new album. Inevitably, rather than scare off fans or critics, the albums were (rightfully) met with wide acclaim. Try as they might, Radiohead couldn't shake off fame or relieve themselves of their accumulated capital. At some point along the way, we all began to take for granted that Radiohead was genius. Indeed, we expected new and illuminating genius each time.

My thoughts, then, should be viewed against these almost immeasurably high expectations.

And with that said.

...

I thing The King of Limbs is a misstep. Though many songs are growing on me each time I listen to it, I remain somewhat underwhelmed with the album as a whole. (You don't think the band will see this, do you?)

First off, the production on this album is really heavy and quite good. The songs are very layered but sound as though they have a sheen about them. Radiohead, over the years, have really developed superb technical skills in this department. The vertical layering is impressive.

Unfortunately, while the songs are vertically interesting, I think they are lacking somewhat in songwriting and line-- the 'horizontal' aspects of music. So many of the songs-- prominently Bloom and Give Up The Ghost-- are fascinating ideas and kernels of songs but just don't have the arc I'd hoped for. They feel more like snippets than full songs. The songs, and thus the album, generally feel underdeveloped to me. Moreover, on an album with only 8 songs (and their shortest album to date), it is a little frustrating to hear three minutes of Feral. While the instrumental experimental track has become a mainstay of Radiohead albums (Treefingers, Hunting Bears, etc.), it is easier to take on a fuller album. Here it comes across as the ultimate indicator of insufficiency.

With all this said, I want to reiterate that I do like this album, and there are some really strong and beautiful moments. Lotus Flower is rhythmic, exciting and uses Thom Yorke's fluid falsetto in wonderful ways. Codex is gentle and sweet, a Radiohead piano track, if a little simple. Separator is gorgeous in tone, vocals and melody: a really superb song and very strong closer. Unfortunately, placed at the very end of the album, the strength of this track paradoxically serves to heighten the sense that so much more was possible this time around.

Would I have given this album a second listen had some other band released it? Perhaps the question is moot-- a Radiohead album remains a special kind of experience.

the will to be vegetarian

At the turn of 2011, I went to a local Thai restaurant and ordered a spicy noodle dish topped with grilled salmon. It was delicious. It also marked the very last time that I will eat fish. A little unceremonious, perhaps; it was certainly not the best fish I've ever eaten and this restaurant is not especially well-known for their fish. In some ways, fish's quiet shuffling off the stage of my life was fitting. While I have really enjoyed fish in recent years, it never really rose to a level of prominence or indeed obsession in the way that chicken has at various times.

For those of you who are unaware, I have been on a slow transition to vegetarianism, and I am quickly approaching the end. The only meat the remains in my diet is chicken and in just under a year, that too will come to a close. While I have made perfunctory efforts to reduce the amount of meat in my diet generally, I must confess that chicken still constitutes a substantial portion of my diet. Still, I feel good and confident about becoming vegetarian. The arguments for doing so still resonate within me and feel right. They are predominantly ethical, environmental, health-based and to a lesser degree, cultural.

I think it is important to acknowledge that my decision to become vegetarian is a choice, and as such is a manifestation of personal agency.

Consequently, I always say that I don't or won't eat certain things instead of saying that I can't. Often, I make a point of clarifying this when somebody says something like "Nitin can't eat turkey anymore." Of course I can eat turkey, but I won't. I don't make this correction to be a stickler for correct English usage. I actually think the distinction is important and has implications for the kind of person I want to be.

I grew up occasionally eating a small variety of meats like chicken, fish and lamb, but never ate beef or pork. This was the one place where my parents drew the line and it never really bothered me, so I never thought to push the line. If my friends were eating hamburgers, I would have told them I "can't eat beef." While it was strictly true that I could eat beef at that time (I didn't), it was appropriate to use the word can't because the reasons were exogenous to me.

Of course that is no longer the case. I am choosing to stop eating my favorite food in the world in just under a year. This decision does not come lightly, but I obviously believe it is the right thing to do. So I have made the decision to be better. I am empowered and am exercising informed human agency. I have the ability to do that. And I will.