While I’m thinking of it

can we knock off the whole “gaffe hunting” thing? Barack Obama uses the words “my Muslim faith,” and some folks jump on it and claim he’s admitted that he’s really a Muslim. If you read the transcript or watch the video, it’s clear he didn’t do any such thing (though George Stephanopoulos didn’t help him any); rather, this was simply “a reference to those falsely imputing Islam to him,” if a clumsily-phrased one. And yet there are some trying to turn it into a gaffe, because that appears to be what we do in American politics these days: look for something we can misinterpret, and then pounce.Similarly, when Sarah Palin calls Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac “too big and too expensive to the taxpayers,” the cry goes up from the Left: “A gaffe! A gaffe!” Again, it wasn’t. Granted the technical truth of the statement that these institutions “aren’t taxpayer funded but operate as private companies,” Gov. Palin was just responding to the same concern Sen. Obama had raised, that they “should either should either operate as public entities without profit, or as private companies that won’t be rescued if they fall into trouble.” As it is, as entities created and sponsored by the federal government, they’ve effectively been private companies backstopped by national taxpayers, free to do whatever was profitable in the short term in the assurance that they’d be bailed out if it all went sour. As is indeed happening, which is why the McCain/Palin ticket has them firmly fixed in the crosshairs as “too big and too expensive to the taxpayers.”Finally, the one most annoying to me, the whole kerfuffle over “lipstick on a pig.” I’m all for defending Gov. Palin from people going after her children, or phony attacks on her record, but honestly, this is just ridiculous. Sen. Obama used a standard Americanism, one which Sen. McCain has used before, as many, many Americans have; granted, he delivered it awkwardly, and the audience does seem to have taken it as a shot at Gov. Palin, but still, it’s just a standard bit of American lingo. Conservatives howl when liberals do this to us—why on earth dignify this tactic by using it ourselves? If some who see the video take it that way and get mad at Sen. Obama, then so be it, but I agree with Roger Kimball: “Palin Rule #1: No whining! (Give the pig thing a rest)” Let Gov. Palin come up with a wisecrack for her next couple stump speeches, and let it go. (Sen. Obama would be well advised to drop it as well, before he makes things worse.)Now, some have pointed out that if he didn’t intend the “lipstick on a pig” line as a shot at Gov. Palin, Sen. Obama was unwise to use it, and I think that’s true; that, plus the “Muslim faith” line, are definite signs that the golden tongue has gone a bit clumsy just at the moment. As someone pointed out to Hugh Hewitt in an e-mail, “he hasn’t had a ‘good communicator’ day since his acceptance speech,” which is deadly for a campaign that has depended on his ability to communicate—when you combine Sen. Obama’s recent infelicities with the walking gaffe track that is Joe Biden, you get a very bad day or two indeed; but while that may well be cause for some thoughtful analysis as to why his campaign is missing its mark, I don’t think it justifies attack ads and charges of sexism. Not even close.

Media strategy

For your consideration, footage of a media strategy session on how to deal with Governor Sarah Palin now that she’s been selected as the Republican VP nominee:

(Do you realize how hard it is to talk with your tongue in your cheek?)

By contrast, the MSM should be ashamed of themselves

So, Barack Obama laid down the law to the media, forcefully, absolutely correctly and in no uncertain terms: “I have heard some of the news on this and so let me be as clear as possible: I have said before and I will repeat again, I think people’s families are off limits, and people’s children are especially off limits. This shouldn’t be part of our politics. It has no relevance to Governor Palin’s performance as governor, or her potential performance as a VP. And so I would strongly urge people to back off these kinds of stories.” Are they listening? No. It’s not an unreasonable request, that they treat Gov. Palin and her family the same way they treated Al Gore and his son, or John Edwards and his wife and mistress; but as the Anchoress points out here, here, and here, they just can’t bring themselves to follow it. Forget feminism—we have a bunch of folks here who aren’t afraid to drag out every sexist trope in the book if it will help them beat up on Gov. Palin; forget fairness and logical consistency; forget Sen. Obama, even. Whatever crowbar they can find to hand, they clearly intend to use.But there is a cost to this behavior. For one thing, it makes Sen. Obama’s message of change, and of bringing a new spirit to American politics, ring ever more hollow with every slander; the more people feel this campaign is ugly and hateful, the more they’re going to pull back—and given the nature of Sen. Obama’s appeal and campaign, predicated on raising turnout and getting out new voters, that’s going to hurt him more than it does his opponent. For another, this kind of behavior feeds distrust and dislike of the media, and further erodes their credibility. For a third, it only works in the short term if they can in fact destroy Sarah Palin; if she refuses to crack, keeps her cool, rises above the mud, and handles it all with grace and strength, she’ll come out of it looking—well, positively presidential. Tonight is her first chance to go over the heads of the media who have abused her to the American people; if she does her usual thing, the whole attack will start to backfire on the media in a big way. If Gov. Palin can get through this, no one’s going to wonder what Joe Biden will do to her, because there’s no way anything he could do could top what’s already been done.And fourth, all of this makes Sen. Obama look very, very bad. We rightly applauded him for showing leadership in response to the Palin attacks—but leadership doesn’t exist without followership, and nobody’s following him.

This is the test of Barack Obama’s lifetime. It’s not whether or not he can be President. He’s tied in the polls, so the possibility is is clearly there. However, the question of him actually being able to lead people (to be a leader) remains to be seen. He’s never had to lead. Now he does, and those who are his strongest supporters . . . are not following his instructions on even a simple, logical, common sense, clearly honorable request: leave Bristol alone.If they can’t do that, then how can he lead them to war in Iraq for another 16+months min., or Iran, or Pakistan, or Afghanistan, or elsewhere?

This is not, by the way, a criticism of Sen. Obama, who’s doing what he can do; it is, rather, a serious question about those who purport to be his followers. I’ve wondered before whether the leaders of his party are actually following him, or just using him to get what they want. Others have wondered whether he’s actually running the campaign machine, or if he’s really it’s creation. To see his leadership ignored in this way just reinforces the idea that it’s the latter, not the former, and that makes me worry—for our country, and for Sen. Obama.Update: when one of his own senior volunteers isn’t following his lead either, that only increases the worry. Either that or it suggests that he’s saying one thing and doing another. Whichever it is, it isn’t good.

McCain/Leno ’08

I just got the chance to watch last night’s Tonight Show, which was a great one; Jay Leno was at the top of his form. (I especially enjoyed his crack that he had John McCain and Dara Torres on “not for politics and the Olympics, but just because I like being around people who’ve been told they’re too old for the job.” Nice shot at NBC there.) It was interesting to note the dead silence from the audience when Leno mentioned Joe Biden, and interesting too to see how well Sen. McCain connected with them; it underscored the point folks have made that he’s much better in an informal, unscripted setting than he is in a stump speech. (That, I imagine, is the reason Barack Obama has refused to do the town hall meetings with him, because Sen. Obama is the other way around.) I expect it helped that this was Sen. McCain’s 13th appearance on the show—I got the sense from watching him and Leno that there’s a fair degree of friendship between the two of them, as they seemed to enjoy talking with each other. They cracked a few jokes—some at Sen. McCain’s expense, a couple at Sen. Biden’s—but they also had some serious discussion, and I think some worthwhile points were made. In particular, I appreciated his response to Leno’s question about the dollar that the first thing we need to do is “stop sending $700,000,000 a year to countries who don’t like us,” which was the beginning of his argument for expanded domestic energy production—drilling, nuclear, hydrogen, the works. (Perhaps my biggest surprise of his appearance: he got applause from the audience for calling for offshore drilling.)If you didn’t get the chance to watch Sen. McCain on Leno, the video is below.

One last comment: might I just add how much I hope to see Gov. Sarah Palin sitting in that chair a few weeks from now as the Republican VP nominee? I think she’d rock the show.

The Joker as vandal and the limits of moral relativism

I can tell the kind of effect The Dark Knight is having from the fact that, even though I haven’t seen it, I keep running across reasons to blog about it. Whatever one’s opinion of the movie itself, it’s undeniably sparking some thoughtful people to write some perceptive analyses of evil, the human heart, and our Western culture. The latest is a piece by National Review‘s managing editor, Jason Lee Steorts, on the magazine’s website called “Lessons from the Joker”; it’s an interesting meditation on the Joker, moral relativism, the nature of vandalism, and the way to make moral arguments to those who don’t think they believe there’s any such thing as right and wrong. I won’t try to summarize it—I’m still pondering it, at this point; but I encourage you to read it.

The Dark Knight of the soul

“My subject in fiction is the action of grace in territory held largely by the devil.”—Flannery O’ConnorI have not seen The Dark Knight, nor did I ever really intend to; I don’t watch all that many movies (though it’s nice to be able to see them in the theater again), and I’ve never been a Batman fan. It does sound like a remarkable movie, though, judging from the reviews—and, no less, from the arguments over it in the Christian blogosphere. I know Thinklings Phil and Jared loved it, and I know Brant Hansen hated it, and their reactions seem to be pretty much representative. The most interesting response, though, has to have been the question Grant Thomas asked:What would Flannery O’Connor think?As he points out, given her artistic philosophy and her view of what it takes to communicate the reality of sin and grace to an unbelieving world, there’s good reason to think that she would have approved of the movie.

I think Flannery would say that Joker shows us that the world we are living in is in the territory of the devil. . . .I think in light of what I’ve been reading from Flannery O’Connor, that she would applaud the film for showing evil for what it is. Not only does it make evil look evil (rather than funny like in the old Adam West TV series), but I think Flannery would say that we need the Joker to realize how much we need grace. We need him to wear make up to realize that this kind of person should seem out of place in our world when most of the time we simply think this sort of thing is normal or at least tolerable.

As I said, I haven’t seen the movie to be able to judge, but what Grant says here makes sense to me. Read the whole post, including his several quotations from Flannery O’Connor, and see what you think.HT: Joyce

Head falls off hatchet—news at 11!

CNN announced today that Anderson Cooper would be doing a story on Sarah Palin and the Monegan affair—news which of course raised the question of whether it would be a fair story or a hatchet job. It would appear that it was intended to be the latter, because after a number of people connected with Adam Brickley’s blog e-mailed CNN with some pertinent facts about the case, Cooper dropped the story. Taken all in all, I’m inclined to agree with Adam’s conclusion on this:

Maybe they’ll try to go back and rework the story using better facts, but I’m guessing that there won’t be any new attempt now that they know just how bad this story would have made them look. “Troopergate” is one of the most poorly executed hit jobs I’ve seen in my life, and this proves that it has no legs.

Tony Snow, RIP

It’s been a bad summer for honorable media personalities in this country; though unlike Tim Russert’s death, Tony Snow’s death this week from colon cancer was no surprise. Like Russert, however, Snow was admired for his character, insight, and evenhandedness. As a radio and TV host and columnist, he was praised as a “happy warrior,” someone who argued his strong principles and firm convictions with good will and respect for those who disagreed with him; as the President’s press secretary, he raised the bar for those who succeeded him, and those yet to come. But as with Russert, what those who knew him appreciated about him the most was his good heart, as evidenced (among many other places) in this e-mail he sent last year to a well-wisher. It was for that that veteran NBC White House correspondent David Gregory said, “I really respected him and admired the kind of man he was.” From all the evidence, Gregory wasn’t the only one. Requiescat in pace, Tony Snow.

The gospel according to Firefly

“Oh, but you did. You turn on any of my crew, you turn on me. But since that’s a concept you can’t seem to wrap your head around, then you got no place here.
You did it to me, Jayne. And that’s a fact.”
—Malcolm Reynolds to Jayne Cobb, “Ariel,” Episode 9, FireflyThis is from the crowning scene of perhaps the best of the handful of episodes we got of Firefly, one of the best scenes I’ve ever been fortunate enough to watch on TV. To explain this line to those not familiar with the show: during the episode, during a raid on an Alliance hospital, Jayne tried to sell out Simon and River Tam, the ship’s two fugitive passengers (Simon, a doctor, is also the ship’s medic, and the one who inspired the raid), to the Alliance. Unfortunately for him, the Alliance officials don’t honor the deal and he gets taken as well, at which point he starts fighting to save himself (and the Tams). They make it back to the ship, and Jayne thinks he’s gotten away with his attempted betrayal; but Mal’s too smart for him, resulting in this (note: there are a few errors in the captioning):

(For a transcript of the episode, go here.)I’ve always been struck by two things in this scene. The first is Mal’s statement to Jayne which I’ve quoted above, which is strikingly reminiscent of the words of Jesus in Matthew 25:40 (though Jayne did evil instead of good). The point is of course different, since Mal isn’t (and doesn’t claim to be) God—but it’s related. From Mal’s point of view, it isn’t enough to show loyalty to him alone: you have to be loyal as well to all those to whom he’s committed himself. Any violation of loyalty to any of them—any betrayal of the crew bond—is a betrayal which he takes personally, and which therefore brings inevitable judgment.The other is what saves Jayne: repentance, as evidenced by the stirring of shame. Jayne’s not much of one to be ashamed of anything—if you don’t count his reaction at the end of “Jaynestown,” the show’s seventh episode, this might be the first time in his life he’s felt shame—so this is a significant moment; and at that sign that Jayne is truly repentant, Mal spares his life (though he doesn’t let him out of the airlock right away—perhaps to encourage further self-examination on Jayne’s part). In the face of repentance, mercy triumphs over judgment.

Story

I don’t know how many people have ever heard of Robert McKee; I imagine all true cinephiles and cineasts have, but I hadn’t. For those as ignorant as me, here’s some of the dust-jacket copy from his book Story: Substance, Structure, Style, and the Principles of Screenwriting (which describes him as “the world’s premier screenwriting teacher”):

For more than thirteen years, Robert McKee’s students have been taking Hollywood’s top honors. His Story Structure seminar is the ultimate class for screenwriters and filmmakers, playing to packed auditoriums across the world and boasting more than 25,000 graduates. . . .Unlike other popular approaches to screenwriting, Story is about form, not formula.

I have to say, I’m honestly impressed. McKee shares my belief in the importance and power of story (if anything, he takes it too far; I get the sense that story has taken the place of religion for him), he’s all about teaching people to write good stories, and he has a lot of helpful advice and examples. (I had originally been thinking to quote a passage or two, but there’s too many good ones.) I don’t think he gets all the examples right, but most of them, he does—he really understands what he’s talking about; and while his book is focused strictly on screenwriting, so far, I think everything he says applies to anyone writing fiction in any form.I should note that one of the reasons I appreciate McKee’s work is that he doesn’t buy the pretensions of the artistes. Here’s what he has to say about the “art film”:

The avant-garde notion of writing outside the genres is naive. No one writes in a vacuum. After thousands of years of storytelling no story is so different that it has no similarity to anything else ever written. The ART FILM has become a traditional genre, divisible into two subgenres, Minimalism and Antistructure, each with its own complex of formal conventions of structure and cosmology. Like Historical Drama, the ART FILM is a supra-genre that embraces other basic genres: Love Story, Political Drama, and the like.

Being more of a novel guy than a film guy, I tend to run into this more with the art film’s prose cousin, literary fiction, where I’m regularly irritated by the pretensions of its practitioners and fans that lit fic isn’t a genre and is therefore superior to “genre fiction.” McKee’s right, this is naive; unfortunately, as B. R. Myers has pointed out in his “Reader’s Manifesto,” it’s a naivete that has led to some real distortions in people’s understanding and appreciation of literature. It’s good to have someone come out and say, “You know what? This kind of thing’s a genre just like any other, with its own conventions and expectations, and some of it’s good and some of it isn’t, just like any other genre.”Anyway, coming back to the book: it’s a very good book about writing stories, and I recommend it—especially to fellow aspiring writers, but not only.