jeudi 9 novembre 2006

What Tuesday's election means for the mythical "beleaguered white male" of conservative talk radio

If there's any consolation for wingnuts in Tuesday's election results, it's that a Democratic Senate and House keeping Captain Codpiece in check provides fodder for the whining and bitching of the Beleaguered White Male in the corridors of right-wing talk radio. Rush Limbaugh and Bill O'Reilly are undoubtedly happy guys today, because they and their callers can wallow for the next two years in dire warnings of the Threat That Is Nancy Pelosi.

I'm not sure whether it just hasn't hit me yet how cataclysmic what happened on Tuesday night was, or if I'm just skeptical. But on the surface, at least, it looks as if the collective insanity that has gripped this country since long before the 9/11 attacks; indeed since Bill Clinton took office, suddenly disappeared and American voters saw the cold light of day.

George W. Bush came to office armed with a false iconography -- one in which Al Gore was a child of privilege and he was a hardscrabble kid from scrubby Texas -- when in reality he was raised largely in the WASP enclaves of Connecticut and Kennebunkport. After the 9/11 attacks, this man who deserted even his cushy National Guard job during the Vietnam years became the War Hero, an iconography that culminated with the bizarre recharacterization of an actual veteran as a coward during the 2004 campaign. The Bush years have been a triumph of bullshit over substance, and finally voters said "Enough." Whether it was Tom DeLay's Abramoff connections, or the realization that the Republican House was pimping teenaged boys for Mark Foley, or the revelation of top evangelist Ted Haggard as a self-loathing closet case, reality finally shone its light on the American voter, and the American voter responded.

Sidney Blumenthal ponders this false iconography in Salon today:

The cultural crackup of conservatism preceded the final political result. For weeks before Election Day, prominent figures on the right threw themselves into their culture war only to be left in the trenches battered, scorned and disoriented. They were unable to shield themselves through their usual practices. Their prevarications were easily penetrated; derision hurled at their targets backfired; hypocrisy was fully exposed. These self-destructive performances were hardly peripheral to the campaign but instead at the heart of it.

The Bush administration and the Republican Congress could not defend themselves on their public record and urgently needed to change the subject. They required new fields of combat -- not the Iraq war, certainly not convicted lobbyist Jack Abramoff, convicted Rep. Duke Cunningham, investigated Rep. Mark Foley or indicted House Majority Leader Tom DeLay. So they launched offensives on Michael J. Fox's Parkinson's disease, Jim Webb's novels and gay marriage. Yet battle-hardened cultural warriors -- Rush Limbaugh, Lynne Cheney and the Rev. Ted Haggard, among others -- did not find themselves triumphant as in the 2004 campaign, but unexpectedly wounded at their own hands.

The president, vice president and secretary of defense, meanwhile, marched to their Maginot line to defend the fortifications of the "war president" and his war paradigm ("alternative interrogation techniques" ... "terrorist surveillance program" ... "terrorists win, America loses"). Bush, Dick Cheney and Donald Rumsfeld behaved as though they were the latest in a straight line of descent from heroes past, inheritors of Franklin Roosevelt, Harry Truman and Winston Churchill. Mythologizing themselves as they struggled to gain support for "victory," they sought to distract from catastrophe by casting deepening failure as inevitable success. Envious of the "Greatest Generation," they claimed its mantle. But elevating themselves into the latter-day versions of the leaders from World War II was delusional imitation as the highest form of self-flattery.

And now the first of the Bush "warrior-heroes" has fallen. Although President Bush had said he would keep Rumsfeld in his job until the end of his term, on Wednesday Bush announced Rumsfeld's resignation, naming former CIA director (under the elder Bush) Robert Gates as his replacement. Currently serving on the Iraq Study Group led by James Baker, secretary of state under the elder Bush, Gates remains close to the realist foreign policy circle that has been excluded and dismissed for six years. With Gates' appointment, it appears that the father is at last being acknowledged by his son.


I disagree with Blumenthal here. It's less that the father is being acknowledged by his son, and rather that just as he has had to do the son's whole life, the father is stepping in to clean up the son's massive screw-ups. I don't believe for one minute that Bush has called on his father. I think that the father has decided to finally step in to try and salvage the family legacy, probably so that Favored Son Jeb can run for president in 2012 -- or perhaps even sooner.

But Blumenthal is on to something about the entire Bush iconography embodying perfectly the concept of kitsch:

The cultural style of the Bush warriors is the latest wrinkle in one of the most enduring modes of antimodern aesthetic expression. "Kitsch is mechanical and operates by formulas," wrote art critic Clement Greenberg in his seminal essay, "Avant-Garde and Kitsch," in 1939. "Kitsch is vicarious experience and faked sensations. Kitsch changes according to style, but remains always the same. Kitsch is the epitome of all that is spurious in the life of our times."

Kitsch is imitative, cheap, sentimental, mawkish and incoherent, and derives its appeal by demeaning and degrading genuine standards and values, especially those of modernity. While the proponents of the faux retro style claim to uphold tradition, they are inherently reactive and parasitic, their words and products a tawdry patchwork, hastily assembled as declarations against authentic complexity and ambiguity, which they stigmatize as threats to the sanctity of an imaginary harmonious order of the past that they insist they and their works represent. Kitsch presumes to be based on old rules, but constantly traduces them.

The Bush kitsch warriors have created a cultural iconography that attempts to inspire deference to the radical making of an authoritarian presidency. These warriors pose as populists, fighting a condescending liberal elite. Wealthy, celebrated and influential, their faux populism demands that they be seen however as victims.

Having risen solely by association with sheer political power and economic force (News Corp., etc.), the cultural charlatans become the arbiters of social standing (especially in a capital lacking a secure and enduring establishment). In Washington, the more status-conscious elements of the press corps, aspiring to the shabby fringes of the talk-show media (the low end of the entertainment state), often serve as publicity agents in the guise of political experts, and it is from this platform that they then derive greater status. Indeed, the conservative kitsch cultural industry is centered in Washington, where Republican political power has protected philistinism from the ravages of cosmopolitanism, unlike in New York, Los Angeles or Chicago.

Under Ronald Reagan, conservative kitsch was the last nostalgic evocation for a glowing small-town America before the New Deal, with its raucous city dwellers, brain-trusters and an aristocratic president gleefully swatting "economic royalists." Reagan drew his raw material for "morning again in America" from an idealized view of his boyhood in Dixon, Ill., where his father was the town Catholic drunk, rescued at last only by a federal government job. Reagan also had a well of experience acting in movies romanticizing small-town life, produced by the Jewish immigrant moguls of Hollywood for whom these gauzy pictures enabled them to assimilate into a country that had richly rewarded them but in which they remained outsiders.

Bush's America contains no nostalgic evocation of small-town life. The scion of the political dynasty, raised in the oil-patch outpost of Midland, Texas, where the streets are named for Ivy League universities, and whose family retained its summer home in its New England base of Kennebunkport, Maine, attended all the right schools as a legacy, one of the last of his kind before more meritocratic standards were imposed and religious and racial quotas abolished. George W. Bush's inchoate resentment at the alteration of the world of his fathers impelled the son of privilege to align with the cultural warriors of faux populism.

The pathology of Bush's kitsch is the endless reproduction of vicarious hatred of the "other," who is the threat to the sanctity of what kitsch represents. The "other" lies beyond the image of the lurking terrorist to the lurking Democrat -- "America loses." "You're either with us or with the terrorists," Bush said famously. You either have a "pre-9/11" mind-set or a "post-9/11" one, according to his strategist Karl Rove, who carefully set the terms of demonization. In the great act of kitsch, Bush et al. apotheosized their fiasco in Iraq into a battle against Hitler -- "appeasers" ... "Islamofascism." By impersonating a historical context, they projected themselves into it.

Unlike the kitsch before and during the Reagan era, the Bush warriors' kitsch lies beyond unintentional camp. Their kitsch lacks more than irony or self-consciousness. It is deliberately sarcastic, mean-spirited, fearsome and fearful. Their unbridled bullying reveals their deep fears within. Their personal disintegrations expose what they fear most about themselves. Whether it is accused sexual harasser Bill O'Reilly (the biggest right-wing TV star), thrice-divorced drug addict Rush Limbaugh (the biggest radio star) or closeted gay drug abuser Ted Haggard, their self-destructive patterns invariably emerge.


It may very well be that the most enduring and devastating image that cemented the Republicans' loss of absolute power is not the few photos of caskets coming home from Iraq, or Tom DeLay's bizarrely grinning mug shot. It may not even be Ted Haggard denying meeting prostitute Mike Jones for sex and meth while nodding his head. The final nail in the coffin of the Christofascist Zombie Kool-Aid Years may be the footage of the bloated-again Rush Limbaugh, cigar clamped in his mouth like a pacifier -- or a penis, take your pick -- wiggling around in his chair in cruel imitation of a man whose face is familiar to everyone in America; a man in his 40's who still looks like a teenager, but in whose eyes is the unsettling knowledge that his disease means he may not live to see his children reach adulthood. When Rush Limbaugh accused Michael J. Fox of faking the extent of his Parkinson's Disease, and then added fuel to the fire with his non-apology "apology" before going right back to his original comments, he crossed a line that made most decent Americans who still have their souls say "Enough."

Not that Limbaugh, O'Reilly, and the rest of them are likely to be chastened by Tuesday's election. Last night, after trying to hang on to Keith Olbermann's audience for weeks, Joe Scarborough was back to his wingnut roots, implying dire consequences to Democratic control of Congrtess. For a certain type of conservative male, who has seen his earning power eroded, his future questionable, his ability to provide for his family forever endangered by the very policies he supports, the coming changes are going to be as frightening as they were when Bill Clinton took office. And so they will seek solace in the Charlatan Shrinks of the Air, Drs. Limbaugh and Hannity and O'Reilly, who instead of helping these misguided souls improve their lives, will instead enable them -- and ensure their own continued employment -- by reassuring them that yes, they really are victims, and it's all the fault of that mean bitch Nancy Pelosi and her feminazi and homosexual supporters -- and make sure that they don't look at the guys in the White House and the pulpit.

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