Category Archives: On Politics

The big carnival: Weiner ****

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on June 11, 2016)

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In my 2011 review of George Clooney’s political drama, The Ides of March, I wrote:

I suppose that is the message of this film (politics is all awash in the wooing). The art of seduction and the art of politicking are one and the same; not exactly a new revelation (a narrative that goes back at least as far as, I don’t know, Shakespeare’s “Julius Caesar”). The politician is seduced by power. However, the politician first must seduce the voter. A pleasing narrative is spun and polished, promises are made, sweet nothings whispered in the ear, and the voter caves. But once your candidate is ensconced in their shiny new office, well…about that diamond ring? It turns out to be cubic zirconium. Then it’s all about the complacency, the lying, the psychodramas, and the traumas. While a lot of folks do end up getting ‘screwed’, it is not necessarily in the most desirable and fun way. 

In Weiner, Josh Kriegman and Elyse Steinberg’s no-holds-barred documentary recounting Anthony Weiner’s 2013 run for NYC mayor, their subject waxes rhetorically:

Do my personal relationships suffer because of the superficial and transactional nature of my political relationships-or is it the other way around? Do you go into politics because you’re not connecting on that other level? […] Politicians probably are wired in some way that needs attention. […] It is hard to have normal relationships.”

To which your humble movie reviewer can only append: “Is there an echo in here?”

So, are those driven to willingly throw themselves into that shark tank we call ‘politics’ doing so to compensate for an inability to connect with (or commit to) someone else on a personally meaningful level? Or is it neediness, insecurity, and/or narcissism? Perhaps they are gluttons for punishment? Wait, that’s too cynical; surely, it must be attributable to a sense of altruism, patriotism or a sincere desire to devote one’s life to public service?

Of course I’m being coy; you and I know that if we’re referring to human beings, the answer is “all of the above”. While individual politicians are occasionally equated with saints, politicians and saints are mutually exclusive. Two lessons I’ve learned from films:

  • “Politicians, ugly buildings, and whores all get respectable if they last long enough.” – from Chinatown
  • “Well…nobody’s perfect!” – from Some Like it Hot

Kriegman and Steinberg’s film raises a number of related questions; the most obvious one being: should ‘we’, as constituents, be willing to forgive the personal indiscretions (barring prosecutable criminal offenses) of those who we have voted into public office? Should we view that as a personal betrayal? After all, if making boneheaded decisions in one’s love life was a crime, I’d bet that there would be barely enough politicians left outside of prison to run the country. Then there’s the existential question: WTF were you thinking?!

 The filmmakers were given remarkable access to Weiner, his family and 2013 campaign staffers during the course of his ill-fated mayoral run (not really a spoiler, as I am assuming you’ve become familiar with the phrase ‘New York City mayor Bill de Blasio’). I’m guessing their fascination stemmed from the fact that Weiner was putting himself in the ring just two years after a highly publicized “sexting” scandal led to his resignation from the U.S. House of Representatives in 2011.

The resultant public shaming seemed to go on and on; not helped by having a surname synonymous with the part of his anatomy that got him into trouble in the first place. This naturally offered limitless variations of nudge-nudge-wink-wink double entendre for late-night hosts, comedians, and water cooler wiseacres to reap from.

That’s a shame, as the directors remind us with an opening montage highlighting  Weiner’s finer political moments. What tends to get lost in the flurry of sophomoric dick jokes that continue to this day, is that he was one of the first truly fearless progressive firebrands to stand their ground and call out the obstructionist bullshit amidst one of the most toxic partisan takeovers of the House in recent memory.

Which makes me sad. And mad…re-prompting “that” question. WTF were you thinking?!

 If you’re curious to see this film because you think it reveals the answer…don’t waste your time. It’s not for lack of trying by the filmmakers; at one juncture (just as “new” details about the 2011 sexting hit the media) one director asks Weiner outright: “Why have you let me film this?” Weiner doesn’t really have an answer.

However, if you want to see an uncompromising, refreshingly honest political documentary about how down and dirty campaigns can get in the trenches, this one is a must-see. Just be warned-it’s not for the squeamish. Not that there is anything gross, or graphic (aside from a little colorful language here and there). It’s just that some scenes could induce that flush of empathetic embarrassment you experience when a couple has a loud spat at the table next to yours at a crowded restaurant, or when a drunken relative tells an off-color joke at Thanksgiving dinner. It’s equally unfiltered and cringe-inducing.

Putting the deeper political and psychological analysis aside, the film also happens to be entertaining. In fact, it is so sharply observed and cleverly constructed (kudos to editor Eli B. Despres) that it plays like the best political mockumentary that Armando Iannucci never created (even he couldn’t concoct a script this perfect if he tried).

I came away with something else just as unexpected. In light of what is happening right now (and getting more horrifying by the day) regarding the 2016 presidential race, Anthony Weiner’s sexting scandal, humiliating resignation from Congress, and subsequent ill-advised 2013 mayoral run (replete with all of its angst, mudslinging and “Carlos Danger” memes) already feels, in relative terms, like the distant memory of some bygone era when we lived in an America with a kinder, gentler, saner political landscape.

(Currently in limited theatrical release and on PPV)

We are the presumptive champions

By Dennis Hartley

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Oh, Donnie. Brian May is less than pleased with Trump co-opting Queen’s “We Are the Champions” as his grand entrance theme:

[From Rolling Stone]

“I’ve had an avalanche of complaints – some of which you can see in our ‘Letters’ page – about Donald Trump using our ‘We Are The Champions’ track as his ‘theme’ song on USA TV,” May wrote on his website. “This is not an official Queen statement, but I can confirm that permission to use the track was neither sought nor given. We are taking advice on what steps we can take to ensure this use does not continue. Regardless of our views on Mr. Trump’s platform, it has always been against our policy to allow Queen music to be used as a political campaigning tool.”

[…]

May isn’t the first musician to deny Trump access to their catalogs. In September, after the politician used R.E.M.’s hit “It’s the End of the World as We Know It (And I Feel Fine)” at a rally, singer Michael Stipe angrily responded, “Go fuck yourselves, the lot of you – you sad, attention-grabbing, power-hungry little men … Do not use our music or my voice for your moronic charade of a campaign.”

Sad! In the interest of mediation, may I suggest the following (and much more apropos) selection for Mr. Trump’s intros going forward?

The other half of the sky

By Dennis Hartley

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All my games were political games; I was, like Joan of Arc, perpetually being burned at the stake.

– Indira Gandhi

As Digby pointed out in her excellent piece this morning, it seems to be getting tougher for the MSM to recognize a truly historic moment right away, even when it jumps up and bites them right on the ass.

Ditto for a distressingly large percentage of the American population, whose collective attention span holds a rough equivalency to the average life expectancy of  a photo once you post it on Snapchat.

However, I think it’s safe to say that, for those of us old and/or cognizant enough to have a sense of history, Hillary Clinton’s 99.9 % assured confirmation as the  presumptive Democratic nominee for POTUS last night can be recognized as a truly historic moment.

Love her or hate her, this is significant. Yes, it’s old hat for other democracies around the world; for the nation that allegedly leads the way in such matters, it’s shamefully overdue, but most welcome.

As for Hillary herself; she’s survived more trials by fire than The Mother of Dragons. You have to respect that, begrudgingly or not.

So feel free to put your phone on silent mode and take a moment…

https://youtu.be/_O8s2kg8ufc

…than when standing in his shadow

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on June 4, 2016)

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No longer presidents but prophets

They’re all dreaming they’re gonna bear the prophet

He’s gonna run through the fields dreaming in animation

It’s all gonna split his skull

It’s gonna come out like a black bouquet shining

Like a fist that’s gonna shoot them up

Like light, like Muhammad boxer

Take them up up up up up up

— From “Birdland”, by Patti Smith

Some people have a special light. Not a light that you can necessarily “see”, per se; yet in the wake of their departure from this world, one senses a few less lumens within it. Muhammad Ali was one such individual. Normally, when a sports legend dies, you expect the usual accolades from peers and young up-and-coming athletes, citing the personal inspiration and offering admiring kudos for the accomplishments he or she made within the profession. But how many sports figures also incur this manner of observation:

For my generation and so many other people, we didn’t have a President Barack Obama; and so for my generation, in terms of exemplars—people of high achievement, high integrity (beyond my dad, my brothers, and my mom), Muhammad Ali was that for me.

That was from Atlanta mayor Kasim Reed, in an interview on CNN this morning. For that matter, President Barack Obama didn’t have a, erm, President Barack Obama, either:

In my private study, just off the Oval Office, I keep a pair of his gloves on display, just under that iconic photograph of him – the young champ, just 22 years old, roaring like a lion over a fallen Sonny Liston. I was too young when it was taken to understand who he was – still Cassius Clay, already an Olympic Gold Medal winner, yet to set out on a spiritual journey that would lead him to his Muslim faith, exile him at the peak of his power, and set the stage for his return to greatness with a name as familiar to the downtrodden in the slums of Southeast Asia and the villages of Africa as it was to cheering crowds in Madison Square Garden.

That was from the President’s statement earlier today (Digby put the entire text up in her tribute this morning). Yes, even the current leader of the free world has drawn inspiration from Muhammad Ali. Clearly, Ali’s impact on our planet is more substantial than achieving status as the greatest ever heavyweight boxing champion of said world.

This is borne out by the fact that amongst those championship belts, Olympic medals and other sundry sports trophies crowding Ali’s shelf, there is also the Presidential Medal of Freedom (2005), the Dr. Martin Luther King Memorial Award (1970), and the Arthur Ashe Award for Courage (1997)…to name a few. That’s because throughout his life, Ali lent his considerable clout, eloquence and sense of conviction to a number of humanitarian and social causes. Personally, I admire him most for his unapologetic stand against the Vietnam War in the 60s; undaunted by the fact that by doing so, he was committing career suicide.  I’m in good company…here’s today’s most touching tribute:

Muhammad willingly sacrificed the best years of his career to stand tall and fight for what he believed was right. In doing so, he made all Americans, black and white, stand together. I may be 7’2”, but I never felt taller than when standing in his shadow.

– Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, from a Facebook posting earlier today.

Than when standing in his shadow.” Wow. I think we’re all feeling taller today. As a tribute, I’m reposting the following review/essay that I originally published on Digby’s Hullabaloo in November 2013 regarding the documentary, The Trials of Muhammad Ali:

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My conscience won’t let me go shoot my brother, or some darker people, or some poor hungry people in the mud for big powerful America. And shoot them for what? They never called me n***er, they never lynched me, they didn’t put no dogs on me, they didn’t rob me of my nationality, rape and kill my mother and father… Shoot them for what? How can I shoot them poor people? Just take me to jail.

-Muhammad Ali

There have been a number of films documenting and dramatizing the extraordinary life of Muhammad Ali, but they all share a curious anomaly. Most have tended to gloss over Ali’s politically volatile “exile years” (1967-1970), during which the American sports icon was officially stripped of his heavyweight crown and essentially “banned” from professional boxing after his very public refusal to be inducted into the Army on the grounds of conscientious objection to the Vietnam War. In a new documentary, The Trials of Muhammad Ali (not to be confused with Muhammad Ali’s Greatest Fight, the 2013 made-for-cable drama that HBO has been running in heavy rotation) filmmaker Bill Siegel (The Weather Underground) fills in those blanks.

As we know, Time heals (most) wounds…and Siegel opens his film with a fascinatingly dichotomous illustration. We witness a young Ali in a TV talk show appearance as he is being lambasted by an apoplectic David Susskind, who calls him (among other things) “…a disgrace to his country, his race and what he laughably describes as his profession.” (Ali deflects the insulting rant with a Zen-like calm). Cut to 2005, and footage of President G.W. Bush Jr. awarding Ali the Medal of Freedom. It’s easy to forget how vilified Ali was for taking his stand (scars from the politically polarizing Vietnam era run deep; I know a few folks who still refer to Jane Fonda as “Hanoi Jane”).

Sigel then traces the evolution of Ali’s controversial stance, which had its roots in the early 60s, when the wildly popular Olympic champion then known as Cassius Clay became interested in the Nation of Islam, guided by the teachings of the movement’s leader at the time, Elijah Muhammad. Interviewees Kahlilah Camacho-Ali (Ali’s first wife, whom he met through the Nation of Islam) and a longtime friend only identified as “Captain Sam” provide a lot of interesting background on this spiritual side of Ali’s life, which eventually led to the adaptation of a new name and his refusal to serve in Vietnam.

As you watch the film, you begin to understand how Ali the sports icon transmogrified into an influential sociopolitical figure, even if he didn’t set out to become the latter. It was more an accident of history; Ali’s affiliation with the Nation of Islam and stance against the Vietnam War put him at the confluence of both the burgeoning Black Power and anti-war movements. Either way, it took balls, especially considering that when he was convicted of draft evasion (later overturned by the Supreme Court), he was not only stripped of his heavyweight title (and primary source of income), but had his passport taken away by the government. This was not grandstanding; it was a true example of standing on the courage of one’s convictions.

Sigel has unearthed some revelatory archival footage from Ali’s three years in the wilderness. He still had to pay rent and feed his family, so Ali essentially found a second career during that period as a professional speaker (likely making him the only world-famous athlete to have inserted that phase of life usually associated with post-retirement into the middle of one’s career). During this time he represented himself as a minister of the Nation of Islam, giving speeches against racism and the Vietnam War (he shows to have been quite an effective and charismatic speaker). One mind-blower is footage of Ali performing a musical number from a Broadway play called Big Time Buck White.

It’s hard to see this film and not draw parallels with Edward Snowden; specifically to ponder how he will be viewed in the fullness of time. Granted, Snowden is not as likely to get bestowed with the Medal of Freedom-but god knows he’s being vilified now (remember, Ali didn’t just catch flak from the usual suspects for standing firmly on his principles, but even from dyed-in-the-wool liberals like Susskind).

Another takeaway is that there was more going on than cloaked racism; Ali’s vilification was America’s pre-9/11 flirt with Islamophobia. Ali was “safe” and acceptable as a sports celebrity (as long as he played the face-pulling, poetry-spouting ham with Howard Cosell), but was recast as a dangerous black radical once he declared himself a Muslim and began to speak his mind on hot-button issues.

As one interviewee comments on the Islam quotient “…Since 9/11, ‘Islam’ has acquired so many layers and dimensions and textures. When the Nation of Islam was considered as a ‘threatening’ religion, traditional Islam was seen as a gentle alternative. And now, quite the contrary […] Muhammad Ali occupies a weird kind of place in that shifting interpretation of Islam.” Welcome to Bizarro World.

Living through another Cuba

By Dennis Hartley

Image result for i am cuba (1964)

With all the dominating Trump news, I missed this passing last week:

(from the New York TImes)

Michael Ratner, a fearless civil liberties lawyer who successfully challenged the United States government’s detention of terrorism suspects at Guantánamo Bay without judicial review, died on Wednesday in Manhattan. He was 72.

The cause was complications of cancer, said his brother, Bruce, a developer and an owner of the Brooklyn Nets.

As head of the Center for Constitutional Rights, Michael Ratner oversaw litigation that, in effect, voided New York City’s wholesale stop-and-frisk policing tactic. The center also accused the federal government of complicity in the kidnapping and torture of terrorism suspects and argued against the constitutionality of warrantless surveillance by the National Security Agency, the waging of war in Iraq without the consent of Congress, the encouragement of right-wing rebels in Nicaragua and the torture at the Abu Ghraib prison during the Iraq war.

“Under his leadership, the center grew from a small but scrappy civil rights organization into one of the leading human rights organizations in the world,” David Cole, a former colleague at the center and a professor at Georgetown Law School, said in an interview this week. “He sued some of the most powerful people in the world on behalf of some of the least powerful.”

Not a peep on any of the nightly newscasts (quietly dedicating your life to human rights just isn’t sexy enough, I’m afraid). Anyway…I found out about Mr. Ratner’s passing while listening to Democracy Now this morning on the way to work. Amy Goodman had the great Noam Chomsky on the program; he lent context to Ratner’s legacy:

Well, Michael Ratner has an absolutely fabulous record. His achievements have been enormous. A tremendous courage, intelligence, dedication. A lot of achievement against huge odds. The center, which he largely—it was a major—he ran and was a major actor in, has done wonderful work all over the place—Cuba and lots of other things. So I can’t be excessive in my praise for what he achieved in his life and the inspiration that it should leave us with.

It sounds like we’ve  lost another of the good ones (*sigh*). We now return you to your regularly scheduled 24/7 Trump news cycle…

https://youtu.be/gxIP8wdLcv4

Living through another Cuba
It’s 1961 again and we are piggy in the middle
While war is polishing his drum and peace plays second fiddle

Russia and America are at each other’s throats
But don’t you cry
Just on your knees and pray, and while you’re
Down there, kiss your arse  goodbye

We’re the bulldog on the fence
While others play their tennis overhead
It’s hardly love all and somebody might
Wind up red or dead
Pour some oil on the water quick
It doesn’t really matter where from
He love me, he loves me not
He’s pulling fins from an atom bomb

This phenomenon happens every twenty years or so
If they’re not careful your watch won’t be the
Only thing with a radioactive glow
I’ll stick my fingers in my ears
And hope they make it up before too late
If we get through this lot alright
They’re due for replay, 1998

(Written by Andy Partridge)

Related posts:

It’s Just a Jump to the Left (of Miami) Top 10 Cuba Films

Too Rolling Stoned

Forbidden Voices

Che

Defending liberty!

By Dennis Hartley

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The World of Bad Taste, pt. II:

(from BBC News)

An online auction for the pistol used to kill unarmed black teenager Trayvon Martin has apparently reached $65m (£45m), organisers say.

The sale has been plagued by fake bidders including “Racist McShootface”.

George Zimmerman, who shot and killed the teenager, had planned to auction what he called “an American icon” on the website Gun Broker on Thursday.

But the web posting was removed just as the auction was due to begin with a reserve price of $5,000 (£3,450).

United Gun Group is now hosting the auction.

In a statement on Twitter they defended the sale of the gun on their site. They were “truly sorry” for the Martin family’s loss but said it was their goal to “defend liberty”.

“Unless the law has been violated, it is the intention of the United Gun Group to allow its members to use any of the available features. While not always popular this is where we stand.”

“An American icon”.  He’s right…in an unintentionally ironic context:

God bless America.

Today? Christie’s. Tomorrow…the World!

By Dennis Hartley

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So there’s Michelangelo, Rodin…and then there’s this guy:

(from Independent UK)

A statue of Hitler on his knees by Italian artist Maurizio Cattelan has sold at auction for an earth-shattering $17.2 million (£12 million).

Titled Him, the wax sculpture was expected to make between $10million and $15 million at Christie’s auction house in New York. 

Having made well over the estimated amount, the sale set a record for the Italian satirical artist, best known for La Nona Ora (The Ninth Hour) – a sculpture of  Pope John Paul II having been hit by a meteorite. Cattelan’s previous record was $7.9 million for a statue of himself peeping through a hole in the floor.

Completed in 2001, Him is supposed to disrupt the viewers sense, with the work appearing like a small child from behind, yet with Hitler’s face offering a sinister contrast.

Describing the piece, the 55-year-old artists said: “Hitler is pure fear; it’s an image of terrible pain. It even hurts to pronounce his name. And yet that name has conquered my memory, it lives in my head, even if it remains taboo.

“Hitler is everywhere, haunting the spectre of history; and yet he is unmentionable, irreproducible, wrapped in a blanket of silence. 

The work previously caused controversy when it was installed in a former Warsaw Ghetto, a place where thousands of Jews died under Nazi rule.

“I’m not trying to offend anyone,” Cattelan continued. “I don’t want to raise a new conflict or create some publicity; I would just like that image to become a territory for negotiation or a test for our psychoses.”

Fair enough. Although, if your intent is so truly benign (and far be it from me to feel I have any presumptive right to advise you what to do with your own hard-earned  money), it would be a nice gesture to donate a portion of that $17 mil to, oh, I don’t know…The Holocaust Museum? Or maybe a human rights organization? So, what’s next?

Earlier this year, the artist revealed he would be returning to the Guggenheim Museum in New York to install a new artwork: a solid gold toilet titled America which patrons of the gallery may use.

Hang on. Crapping on America whilst seated on a solid gold toilet? Hate to break it to you, but Mr. Trump could sue you for plagiarism.

Image result for trump apartment bathroom

Rocky mountain no way

By Dennis Hartley

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Thank god he caught it in time:

(from Rolling Stone)

Joe Walsh will not be performing at a July 18th concert he was initially scheduled to perform in Cleveland, OH. In a statement he released on Wednesday, Walsh said the event was billed to him as a benefit for the families of veterans, but after he discovered it was part of the Republican National Convention, he made the announcement that he is withdrawing from the show.

“It was my understanding that I was playing a concert which was a nonpartisan event to benefit the families of American veterans on Monday, July 18 in Cleveland. The admat I approved said this specifically,” the singer said in the statement. “Today it was announced that this event is, in fact, a launch for the Republican National Convention.”

[…]

“I am very concerned about the rampant vitriol, fear-mongering and bullying coming from the current Republican campaigns,” he continued. “It is both isolationist and spiteful. I cannot in good conscience endorse the Republican party in any way. I will look at doing a veteran related benefit concert later this year.”

As some guy who somehow ended up in the White House once said, “Fool me once, shame on…shame on you. Fool me…you can’t get fooled again.” Or something to that effect. Anyway…way to go, Joe!