Personal to all Flames General Managers: No more multi-player deals with the Leafs in which you give up the best player. Ever again. What the hell.
This is odd, from page 20 of the QDR:
Enhance domestic counter-lED capabilities: To better prepare the Department to support civil authorities seeking to counter potential threats from domestic improvised explosive devices (IEDs). DoD will assist civil authorities with counter-IED tactics, techniques, and procedures (TIPs) and capabilities developed in recent operations.
This is the first I’ve heard of serious concern about domestic IEDs. Something that intel picked up? On the one hand, the idea that some notional domestic terror cell (whether Islamic, right wing, or otherwise) might utilize IEDs is a good deal more believable that the usual stuff about taking down a jetliner with a Stinger or cutting down the Brooklyn Bridge with blowtorches. On the other hand, good IED production does require skill and some resources, and I don’t imagine that successfully blowing up a couple of SUVs on I-70 would really be worth the time and risk to any domestic terrorist org.
UPDATE: To be clear, I appreciate that Timothy McVeigh’s Ryder truck and the aircraft used on 9/11 were technically “IEDs.” However, the QDR isn’t using the term in this sense; it’s fairly clear from context that the more road-specific meaning of the term in intended (with the inclusion of car bombs possible, but not necessary.)
- References to the “Long War” in 2006 QDR: 31, not counting the 10 pages in the chapter titled “Fighting the Long War”
- References to the “Long War” in 2010 QDR: 0
The 2006 QDR was explicitly structured around the concept of the “Long War,” which is essentially another name for the War on Terror. The Long War is more or less defined as follows:
Since 2001 the U.S. military has been continuously at war, but fighting a conflict that is markedly different from wars of the past. The enemies we face are not nation-states but rather dispersed non-state networks. In many cases, actions must occur on many continents in countries with which the United States is not at war. Unlike the image many have of war, this struggle cannot be won by military force alone, or even principally. And it is a struggle that may last for some years to come.
The chapter “Fighting the Long War” then includes references to the war in Afghanistan, the war in Iraq, operations in the Horn of Africa and the Trans-Sahara, tsunami relief, earthquake relief in Pakistan, “stabilization” operations in Haiti, assistance to the government of Colombia, and domestic initiatives such as bio-terror preparedness and civil support. The Long War concept provided a unifying framework for thinking through a multi-continental strategy for fighting “terror,” epitomized not simply in terrorist networks but also in terror-supporting states and in the conditions that allow terror to grow. Re-reading this chapter, I find it striking the degree to which the Cold War could easily be substituted for the Long War, with communists playing the role of terrorists. This is to say that the threats to the United States and its interests were represented in a fashion that’s not quite monolithic, but is nevertheless singular. Rather than responding to multiple, quite different crises around the world, the 2006 QDR wanted us to understand US military operations as part of a coherent strategic response to the threat posed by terror, much in the same way that the various forms of Containment were responses to the threat posed by the USSR and international revolutionary communism.
In the 2010 QDR, not so much. The United States is fighting “wars” rather than a “Long War” which is a crucial distinction to my mind. “Complexity” is the watchword, and each of the major conflicts involving the United States is treated distinctly, rather than as part of a tapestry. It must be said that this change makes the argument much less fluid; a Long War makes much more thematic sense than a series of not-terribly-related conflicts that involve some interest or other of the United States in some or another part of the globe. What it lacks in narrative, however, it makes up for in general good sense.
By and large, progressives don’t care so much about the QDR. This shouldn’t be taken as an absolute statement; every progressive think tank has specialists on defense, there are many progressive journalists who take an interest in defense and security issues, and there are plenty of ordinary progressives who do think regularly about things like the QDR. I’m nevertheless confident, however, in the contention that defense wonkish types are found more often in conservative circles than progressive, that conservative organizations spend more time on defense issues than progressive organizations, and that typical, everyday Joe/Jill Conservative is more knowledgeable on defense and military issues than typical, everyday Joe/Jill Progressive. The central reason for this is not difficult to articulate; conservatives (at least in the current American construction of the term) are more likely to favor the use of force, are more likely to favor high defense budgets, are more likely to focus on military capability as a central component of American identity, and (statistically) are more likely to have served or know someone who has served in the military than are progressives.
Moreover, I suspect that there’s broad agreement among people who self-identify as progressive that the current defense budget of the United States is wildly oversized relative to the threats that the United States faces. In this context, arcane discussions about preference for this weapon over that, or this capability rather than the other, or the elimination of this platform in favor of that platform, seem like debates either over the number of angels who can dance on the head of a pin, or the arrangement of deck chairs on the Titanic. For the former, the QDR and the precise makeup of the defense budget are part of an unfortunate reality of American politics, the details of which aren’t particularly relevant. For the latter, the imperial proclivities of the outsized defense establishment and the negative effects of the military-industrial complex on American life make micro-discussion of defense issues essentially beside the point. In both cases, valuable time required for digestion of detail is better spent on other, more important and perhaps more contingent issues.
Both of these perspectives get much more right than they do wrong. Nevertheless, let me suggest two reasons why progressives should pay much closer attention to statements of strategy such as the QDR than they do. The first reason is that debates about the makeup of the defense budget and the construction of the QDR happen whether progressives are involved in them or not. There is something to the idea of granting too much legitimacy to the abjectly idiotic idea that the United States needs to militarily outspend the rest of the world, but check it out; the US outspends (or very nearly outspends) the rest of the world anyway. Progressive engagement with the finer aspects of the defense debate can hardly make things worse. The second reason is that the details really do matter. The 2010 QDR is quite a bit different than the 2006, which was quite a bit different than the 2000. The precepts set forth in the QDR are often honored in the breach, but they nevertheless help structure what the military will look like, and consequently what the military will be good and bad at for decades to come. You could argue that the 2010 QDR pays only lip service to climate change and to the humanitarian potential of military capability, but this lip service will be replicated in policy in ways that will affect how the US military is structured, behaves, and interacts with the real world. The US military is a huge organization of organizations, and by virtue of its size even small course corrections affect the lives of millions of people.
Again, there is a touch of caricature to the picture I’m drawing here. Ideally, however, I’d like to have a community of people who could speak intelligently and passionately about a) whether militarized-humanitarian intervention in Haiti raised the spectre of US imperialism in Latin America, b) what US military platforms and capabilities were best suited to having a positive effect on the situation in Haiti, and most importantly c) how a and b matter to each other.
In any case, over the next few days I’ll be going over the QDR in detail, on this blog and elsewhere. I heartily recommend that people give the document a read, keep up with the commentary, and perhaps even read the 2006 version.
Saturday afternoon visual rhetoric: more on Mad Men (as well as a brief acknowledgment of the magnitude of my wrongness).
I definitely want an update to this post once you’ve finished the third season. I can’t really respond much to this post until then, because I don’t want to spoil anything[.]
Nor do I. If you plan on watching Mad Men but haven’t seen the third season finale, stop reading now.
In a fit of remarkable wrongness, I wrote:
So Peter and Peggy are not left behind because, over the course of two seasons, they learn to love and accept modernity in their hearts. They still seek Draper’s approval, but they recognize that he’s valuable in a way the world soon stop valuing. When the rapture comes, they know Draper won’t be numbered among the chosen […] Nor, for that matter, will Joan Holloway[.]
Had Matt Weiner decided to re-shoot “Shut the Door. Have a Seat.” after having read my post in order to maximize my wrongness, he wouldn’t have had his work cut out for him. This shot alone refutes much of what I wrote:
There sit Pete and Peggy, toiling into the future alongside Draper and Joan in the temporary headquarters of Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce. Why was I so wrong? I didn’t anticipate that Draper would recognize that he belonged to the past. He admits as much when Pete demands Draper tell him why he’s needed:
You’ve been ahead on a lot of things. Aeronautics. Teenagers. The Negro market. We need you to keep us looking forward. I do, anyway.
In one respect, then, my claim that Pete and Peggy belong to the future is validated; but unfortunately for me, my claim’s being validated by the very person I had claimed was constitutionally incapable of recognizing its validity. My argument went awry because I failed to account for the complexity of Draper’s reaction to Betty divorcing him: without the illusion of a perfect marriage to stabilize his conception of self, Donald Draper is as free to reinvent himself as Dick Whitman had been. I think. More on Draper as a character later. For now I’d like to focus on just how effective Matt Weiner’s direction of “Shut the Door. Have a Seat.” was.
The dominant character literally towers over the subservient one. When the shot shifts to them individually, the angle of framing reinforces their respective positions. Dominant Betty is shot from a slightly lower angle—you can tell the canting of the camera by the fact that the ceiling is almost visible:
In visual terms, he is only barely the lesser party, which is in keeping with the tone of the scene (if not the season): he may not be dominant, but he is never subservient. Because the camera is level with his head and its angle so slight, Draper appears to be in control of the scene, which leads to friction between its formal composition and narrative content. Note also that in neither case does the angle of framing indicate that shot is from the point of view of either character. Instead of reversing the shot and having them look at the viewer, Weiner organizes the sequence by matching their eyelines: she looks down from the left in an angled shot and he looks up from the right in a level one, almost as if the camera refuses to acknowledge that Draper’s not the dominant one here. Same thing happens when Draper tries to recruit Peggy:
He looks up from the right in a level medium close-up, although unlike the scene with Betty, he may actually be in control of this scene, meaning the angle of framing would be ironic. He may be the supplicant, as the composition of the establishing shot tells us, but this reverse shot indicates that he already knows how his plea will be answered. This shot is, after all, when he reminds Peggy that they are kindred:
There are people out there who buy things. People like you and me and something happened. Something terrible. And the way that they saw themselves is gone. And nobody understands that. But you do and that’s very valuable.
He’s telling her that being knocked up by Pete and almost dying during a delivery that left her clinically insane makes her “very valuable” to him. It is, then, an odd but strong bond he appeals to here, but one which he believed would be effective: he may not be able to assume her allegiance, but he knows he can needle her secret trauma to great effect. As it does. They’re equals by the next reverse shot:
Or not: the partners occupy the foreground, their juniors and the head secretary the background. They’re not equals, but the subsequent camerawork tells us that they’re not as unequal as they were before. When it cuts to Peggy and Pete, the level of the camera jumps up and frames them in a medium shot:
At least in terms of composition, they are close to coequals. (Especially when compared to the ubiquitous shots of Draper pacing behind his desk and looking down at whichever underling happened to be seated before it.) It is at this point that something really remarkable happens. In my first post on the visual rhetoric of the show, I noted that “[n]o contemporary television show employs a quieter camera than Mad Men.” So how does Weiner choose to end this scene? Dynamically:
Few things are more entertaining to an academic than to watch two fellow academics go head to head over the meaning of “fellow academic.” Will one of those few things be the first episode of post-pilot Season One Caprica?. If you’re watching too an hour from now, leave your opinion below.
With all apologies to J.D. Salinger, I can’t resist reading Donald Douglas’s account of a Michele Bachmann event at Knott’s Berry Farm in Holden Caulfield’s terms. This is contemporary conservatism boiled to the bone: some morons convince a phony of their patriotism by speaking before a replica of an actual American institution. Douglas’s photo-essay captures what history signifies when you subscribe to Tea Party logic even more starkly than those fake patriots who demonstrate their solidarity with the Founding Fathers by showing up at rallies with tea-bags.
Did I say rallies? I meant “sparsely-attended speeches by purported conservative celebrities in the most conservative county in the country,” because as Douglas’s own photos attest, David Horowitz and Michele Bachmann have little drawing power within spitting distance of the birth place of Richard Nixon. Not that Douglas would care, mind you, because he can’t tear his authentic eyes away from all the ersatz history. Even his grammar becomes ambiguous in the presence of all this fakery:
As you can see, the park’s Independence Hall is an exact replica of the original historic landmark in Philadelphia, PA. Both the Declaration of Independence and the U.S. Constitution were signed there.
The Declaration of Independence and the U.S. Constitution were signed in Knott’s Berry Farm’s Independence Hall? According to Knott’s Berry Farm, they most certainly were:
Douglas then produces:
[a] shot of the [Knott’s Berry Farm’s replica of the] bell’s famous crack.
The faked crack on the fake Liberty Bell is famous? All morons hate it when their grammar reveals that they’re morons.
Not that it’s just the grammar, as his caption to this picture demonstrates: “[t]he sweeties at the gift counter, in 18th century dress.” If you press your ear against the monitor, you can almost hear him declaiming: “That is too an authentic 18th century windbreaker!” But perhaps the best part of Douglas’s account is the definitive evidence that Tea Party patriots don’t know from English. He notes that Michele Bachmann
came to California straight from Washington and the last night’s SOTU. She reminded the crowd that this time last year the big talk was Joe Wilson’s “you lie,” while this week it’s Samuel Alito’s “not true,” and she turned that into a little chant to fire up the patriots in attendence.
If that chant sounds like Douglas suggests it does—”You lie! Not true! You lie! Not true!”—then those patriots sure told Joe Wilson a thing or two.
Update. If you’re going to pretend to be an academic, Donald Douglas, you shouldn’t link to something that says I’m a “Doctor of Philosophy of English,” then write that I claim to have “a Ph.D. in the ‘Philosophy of English.'” People who work in academia should, after all, know what the letters “Ph.D.” stand for. Moreover, survival in academia requires the actual refutation of points. It’s cute that you noticed I made two typographical errors, but neither error was material to my argument (the substance of which you’ve yet to refute).
Paul and I have compiled some examples of conservative academics arguing that Obama needs to be sent to Sally Quinn Reeducation Camp or something for disagreeing with an innovative constitutional doctrine just announced by a bare majority of the Court. At the time, though, I missed an even funnier argument, namely William Jacobson’s assertion that by criticizing the Court, Obama was threatening the rule of law itself:
The attack on the Supreme Court exposes the intolerance of this President. The politician who campaigned and allegedly champions the rule of law actually has very little use for the rule of law when it does not advance his political agenda.
This is an…interesting argument. Let’s examine some other examples of prominent public officials who, in disagreeing with decisions announced by the Supreme Court, therefore oppose the rule of law:
- “The 10th anniversary of the Supreme Court decision in Roe v. Wade is a good time for us to pause and reflect. Our nationwide policy of abortion-on-demand through all nine months of pregnancy [sic] was neither voted for by our people nor enacted by our legislators — not a single state had such unrestricted abortion [sic] before the Supreme Court decreed it to be national policy in 1973. But the consequences of this judicial decision are now obvious: since 1973, more than 15 million unborn children have had their lives snuffed out by legalized abortions. That is over ten times the number of Americans lost in all our nation’s wars…Make no mistake, abortion-on-demand is not a right granted by the Constitution.” —Saint Ronald Reagan, 1983
- “After a day of consideration, the McCain Campaign has decided to come out hard against yesterday’s 5 to 4 decision to grant more rights to court review for enemy combatants held at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. “The United States Supreme Court yesterday rendered a decision which I think is one of the worst decisions in the history of this country,” McCain said. He went on to quote from Justice Roberts dissent in the case, rail against “unaccountable judges,” and say that the courts are about to be clogged with cases from detainees.”
The 2008 election was contested between two candidates who oppose the rule of law — shocking! Anyway, I could go on, but since I assume that even Jacobson himself doesn’t believe in this ridiculous definition of the “rule of law” cataloging further examples would be redundant.
For further comedy, in attempting to claim that Obama’s public disagreement with 5 of the Court’s 9 members was “unprecedented,” Col. Mustard uncritically quotes someone asserting that “[e]ven President Franklin D. Roosevelt, who had a lot of grievances with the Court, never mentioned it in any of his State of the Union messages.” This might strike you as implausible in the extreme. Well, I happen to have FDR’s 1937 State of the Union Address right here, and…
Could this be any good?
The original falls comfortably into the “hopelessly flawed yet endlessly entertaining” category. I suppose that the biggest problem I have with the trailer is the implication that Gordon Gecko could actually be broke upon leaving prison…