Sunday, January 17, 2010

Making Sentences, Not Sense

Gore has become Bore Vidal. Christopher Hitchens, formerly Gore's heir-apparent, is now Vidal's hair shirt. If this is (fair & balanced) vituperation or elder-abuse, so be it.

[x Vanity Fair]
Vidal Loco
By Christopher Hitchens

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More than a decade ago, I sat on a panel in New York to review the life and work of Oscar Wilde. My fellow panelist was that heroic old queen Quentin Crisp, perhaps the only man ever to have made a success of the part of Lady Bracknell in The Importance of Being Earnest. Inevitably there arose the question: Is there an Oscar Wilde for our own day? The moderator proposed Gore Vidal, and, really, once that name had been mentioned, there didn’t seem to be any obvious rival.

Like Wilde, Gore Vidal combined tough-mindedness with subversive wit (The Importance of Being Earnest is actually a very mordant satire on Victorian England) and had the rare gift of being amusing about serious things as well as serious about amusing ones. Like Wilde, he was able to combine radical political opinions with a lifestyle that was anything but solemn. And also like Wilde, he was almost never “off”: his private talk was as entertaining and shocking as his more prepared public appearances. Admirers of both men, and of their polymorphous perversity, could happily debate whether either of them was better at fiction or in the essay form.

I was fortunate enough to know Gore a bit in those days. The price of knowing him was exposure to some of his less adorable traits, which included his pachydermatous memory for the least slight or grudge and a very, very minor tendency to bring up the Jewish question in contexts where it didn’t quite belong. One was made aware, too, that he suspected Franklin Roosevelt of playing a dark hand in bringing on Pearl Harbor and still nurtured an admiration in his breast for the dashing Charles Lindbergh, leader of the American isolationist right in the 1930s. But these tics and eccentricities, which I did criticize in print, seemed more or less under control, and meanwhile he kept on saying things one wished one had said oneself. Of a certain mushy spiritual writer named Idries Shah: “These books are a great deal harder to read than they were to write.” Of a paragraph by Herman Wouk: “This is not at all bad, except as prose.” He once said to me of the late Teddy Kennedy, who was then in his low period of red-faced, engorged, and abandoned boyo-hood, that he exhibited “all the charm of three hundred pounds of condemned veal.” Who but Gore could begin a discussion by saying that the three most dispiriting words in the English language were “Joyce Carol Oates”? In an interview, he told me that his life’s work was “making sentences.” It would have been more acute to say that he made a career out of pronouncing them.

However, if it’s true even to any degree that we were all changed by September 11, 2001, it’s probably truer of Vidal that it made him more the way he already was, and accentuated a crackpot strain that gradually asserted itself as dominant. If you look at his writings from that time, thrown together in a couple of cheap paperbacks entitled Dreaming War and Perpetual War for Perpetual Peace, you will find the more crass notions of Michael Moore or Oliver Stone being expressed in language that falls some distance short of the Wildean ideal. “Meanwhile, Media was assigned its familiar task of inciting public opinion against Osama bin Laden, still not the proven mastermind.” To that “sentence,” abysmal as it is in so many ways, Vidal put his name in November 2002. A small anthology of half-argued and half-written shock pieces either insinuated or asserted that the administration had known in advance of the attacks on New York and Washington and was seeking a pretext to build a long-desired pipeline across Afghanistan. (Not much sign of that, incidentally, not that the luckless Afghans mightn’t welcome it.) For academic authority in this Grassy Knoll enterprise, Vidal relied heavily on the man he thought had produced “the best, most balanced report” on 9/11, a certain Nafeez Mosaddeq Ahmed, of the Institute for Policy Research & Development, whose book The War on Freedom had been brought to us by what Vidal called “a small but reputable homeland publisher.” Mr. Ahmed on inspection proved to be a risible individual wedded to half-baked conspiracy-mongering, his “Institute” a one-room sideshow in the English seaside town of Brighton, and his publisher an outfit called “Media Monitors Network” in association with “Tree of Life,” whose now-deceased Web site used to offer advice on the ever awkward question of self-publishing. And to think that there was once a time when Gore Vidal could summon Lincoln to the pages of a novel or dispute points of strategy with Henry Cabot Lodge....

It became more and more difficult to speak to Vidal after this (and less fun too), but then I noticed something about his last volume of memoirs, Point to Point Navigation, which brought his life story up to 2006. Though it contained a good ration of abuse directed at Bush and Cheney, it didn’t make even a gesture to the wild-eyed and croaking stuff that Mr. Ahmed had been purveying. This meant one of two things: either Vidal didn’t believe it any longer or he wasn’t prepared to put such sorry, silly, sinister stuff in a volume published by Doubleday, read by his literary and intellectual peers, and dedicated to the late Barbara Epstein. The second interpretation, while slightly contemptible, would be better than nothing and certainly a good deal better than the first.

But I have now just finished reading a long interview conducted by Johann Hari of the London Independent (Hari being a fairly consecrated admirer of his) in which Vidal decides to go slumming again and to indulge the lowest in himself and in his followers. He openly says that the Bush administration was “probably” in on the 9/11 attacks, a criminal complicity that would “certainly fit them to a T”; that Timothy McVeigh was “a noble boy,” no more murderous than Generals Patton and Eisenhower; and that “Roosevelt saw to it that we got that war” by inciting the Japanese to attack Pearl Harbor. Coming a bit more up-to-date, Vidal says that the whole American experiment can now be described as “a failure”; the country will soon take its place “somewhere between Brazil and Argentina, where it belongs”; President Obama will be buried in the wreckage—broken by “the madhouse”—after the United States has been humiliated in Afghanistan and the Chinese emerge supreme. We shall then be “the Yellow Man’s burden,” and Beijing will “have us running the coolie cars, or whatever it is they have in the way of transport.” Asian subjects never seem to bring out the finest in Vidal: he used to say it was Japan that was dominating the world economy, and that in the face of that other peril “there is now only one way out. The time has come for the United States to make common cause with the Soviet Union.” That was in 1986—not perhaps the ideal year to have proposed an embrace of Moscow, and certainly not as good a year as 1942, when Franklin Roosevelt did join forces with the U.S.S.R., against Japan and Nazi Germany, in a war that Vidal never ceases to say was (a) America’s fault and (b) not worth fighting.

Rounding off his interview, an obviously shocked Mr. Hari tried for a change of pace and asked Vidal if he felt like saying anything about his recently deceased rivals, John Updike, William F. Buckley Jr., and Norman Mailer. He didn’t manage to complete his question before being interrupted. “Updike was nothing. Buckley was nothing with a flair for publicity. Mailer was a flawed publicist, too, but at least there were signs every now and then of a working brain.” One sadly notices, as with the foregoing barking and effusions, the utter want of any grace or generosity, as well as the entire absence of any wit or profundity. Sarcastic, tired flippancy has stolen the place of the first, and lugubrious resentment has deposed the second. Oh, just in closing, then, since Vidal was in London, did he have a word to say about England? “This isn’t a country, it’s an American aircraft carrier.” Good grief.

For some years now, the old boy’s stock-in-trade has been that of the last Roman: the stoic eminence who with unclouded eyes foresees the coming end of the noble republic. Such an act doesn’t require a toga, but it does demand a bit of dignity. Vidal’s phrasings sometimes used to have a certain rotundity and extravagance, but now he has descended straight to the cheap, and even to the counterfeit. What business does this patrician have in the gutter markets, where paranoids jabber and the coinage is debased by every sort of vulgarity?

If Vidal ever reads this, I suppose I know what he will say. Asked about our differences a short while ago at a public meeting in New York, he replied, “You know, he identified himself for many years as the heir to me. And unfortunately for him, I didn’t die. I just kept going on and on and on.” (One report of the event said that this not-so-rapier-like reply had the audience in “stitches”: Vidal in his decline has fans like David Letterman’s, who laugh in all the wrong places lest they suspect themselves of not having a good time.) But his first sentence precisely inverts the truth. Many years ago he wrote to me unprompted—I have the correspondence—and freely offered to nominate me as his living successor, dauphin, or, as the Italians put it, delfino. He very kindly inscribed a number of his own books to me in this way, and I asked him for permission to use his original letter on the jacket of one of mine. I stopped making use of the endorsement after 9/11, as he well knows. I have no wish to commit literary patricide, or to assassinate Vidal’s character—a character which appears, in any case, to have committed suicide.

I don’t in the least mind his clumsy and nasty attempt to re-write his history with me, but I find I do object to the crank-revisionist and denialist history he is now peddling about everything else, as well as to the awful, spiteful, miserable way—“going on and on and on,” indeed—in which he has finished up by doing it. Oscar Wilde was never mean-spirited, and never became an Ancient Mariner, either. Ω

[Christopher Hitchens is a Vanity Fair contributing editor. Hitchens was educated at The Leys School, Cambridge (His mother arguing that "If there is going to be an upper class in this country, then Christopher is going to be in it."), and Balliol College, Oxford, where he read Philosophy, Politics, and Economics and graduated with a "gentleman's 3rd." Hitchens came to the States in 1981 to write for The Nation. Hitchens is the Roger S. Mertz media fellow at the Hoover Institution in Stanford, CA and is the author of God Is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything (2007).]

Copyright © 2010 Condé Nast Digital

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How Dumb Can We Go??????

Currently, the Land O'The Free and the Home O'The Brave is served by sixteen (16) distinct intelligence/spying organizations:

Central Intelligence Agency
Defense Intelligence Agency
Department of Energy ( Office of Intelligence and Counterintelligence )
Department of Homeland Security ( Office of Intelligence and Analysis )
Department of State ( Bureau of Intelligence and Research )
Department of the Treasury ( Office of Intelligence and Analysis )
Drug Enforcement Administration ( Office of National Security Intelligence )
Federal Bureau of Investigation (National Security Branch)
National Geospatial-Intelligence Agency
National Reconnaissance Office
National Security Agency/Central Security Service
U.S. Air Force Intelligence, Surveillance and Reconnaissance Agency
U.S. Army Intelligence and Security Command
U.S. Coast Guard Intelligence and Criminal Investigations
U.S. Marine Corps Intelligence Department
U.S. Office of Naval Intelligence

And, despite the recommendations of the 9/11 Commission, nothing has changed in a decade. Cooperation and information sharing among the Sweet 16 are sporadic and ineffectual. We are no safer today than we were on September 11, 2001. If this is (fair & balanced) inability to connect the dots, so be it.

[x Wall Street Fishwrap]
What Our Spies Can Learn From Toyota
By Luis Garicano and Richard A. Posner

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Until recently, the United States had become complacent about terrorism. The general view was that al Qaeda was on the run and Islamic terrorism was a receding threat. We now know better.

A string of attacks by Islamic terrorists—an officer murdering his fellow soldiers at a U.S. army base, a passenger's attempted bombing on a Detroit-bound airplane, and a double agent's suicide bombing a CIA base in Afghanistan—reveals the continuing and growing danger of Islamic terrorism. Hostility to the U.S. appears to be increasing among Muslim populations, and, with it, the number of potential terrorists. It is alarming that none of the three attackers—an American, a Nigerian and a Jordanian—was from one of the traditional hotbeds of terrorism.

In the case of the first two attacks, information that should have alerted the security services to the danger of an attack was in their hands but was not acted on. And this despite the restructuring of the national intelligence system after the 9/11 attacks. These failures are only the latest evidence that the post-9/11 reforms have not been a success.

Real reform of complex institutions is always hard, but it is possible. Consider a storied, historic, indeed iconic American institution that had developed an internal structure so convoluted that information did not flow through it—fiefdoms abounded, and duplication and delays were the rule. After many failed efforts at reform, only the threat and actuality of bankruptcy forced this institution to slim down, streamline and focus.

We are referring, of course, to the U.S. auto industry. The domestic automakers' organizational structures were notoriously complex and top-heavy. While Toyota had been selling the same car worldwide, Ford had insisted that American consumers would not buy the cars successfully produced by Ford for sale in Europe. As a result, every stage of production from R&D to actual manufacturing was duplicated in the two markets.

When General Motors dealers in Florida tried to stop GM from promoting its SUVs in the state's 70-degree Christmas season with ads bragging about the vehicles' performance in snow, they found no way to get their message across. GM had 325,000 employees, yet was run as a matrix with overlapping functional and geographic management structures. As Rick Wagoner, its ousted CEO, had confessed: "People really have trouble because they want to know who's in charge," he said, "and the answer is going to be, increasingly: It depends."

The national intelligence apparatus of the U.S. has fewer employees than GM had in its prime, yet it consists officially of 16 separate agencies, and unofficially of more than 20. Each of these agencies is protected by strong political and bureaucratic constituencies, so that after each intelligence failure everything continues pretty much the same and usually with the same people in charge.

Five and a half years after the report of the 9/11 Commission identified the cascade of intelligence failures that allowed the 9/11 attackers to achieve total surprise, the problems it highlighted persist: We learn of multiple, separate and unshared terrorist lists; of multiple agencies (State Department, CIA and the National Counterterrorism Center) unable to combine the tips they receive; of arbitrary rules, such as requiring proof of "reasonable suspicion," rather than mere suspicion, to deny a visa to a foreigner; and of terrorists released from American custody to become leaders of al Qaeda abroad. There is the sense that nobody is in charge.

The government's response to the attempted airline bombing—the most recent failure—has been to blame every agency that had some information that if pooled would have alerted the airport authorities to the menace of Abdulmutallab. To blame all is to blame none.

We have an unwieldy multiplicity of agencies that operate largely independently. Dysfunctional bureaucratic incentives decree that an attack involving a repetition of a known terrorist procedure is the most damaging politically, so shoes are scanned because a shoe was used in an attempted airplane bombing. Now underwear will be scanned as well. The government seems always to be playing catch-up to the terrorists.

We can fix this. As with the auto industry, the moment of crisis is the right moment to tackle in-depth reform of the intelligence services. One possibility that deserves serious consideration would be a consolidation of most existing agencies into four primary agencies: a foreign intelligence agency, a military intelligence agency, a domestic intelligence agency, and a technical data collection agency (satellite mapping, electronic interception, et cetera).

This structure would mimic the United Kingdom's MI6 (the Secret Intelligence Service), Defence Intelligence Agency, MI5 (the Security Service), and GCHQ (General Communications Headquarters). In a streamlined system, the Director of National Intelligence would be a coordinator, rather than combining the role of a coordinator with that of the president's senior substantive intelligence officer. (As if the CEO of Boeing also designed the companies planes).

The members of our intelligence community will protest that simplifying the structure of the intelligence community is impossible—echoing the protests of auto workers, until bankruptcy forced their hand. The national intelligence system is similarly bankrupt: More than eight years after the 9/11 attacks, there is no excuse for such egregious failures. The time to act is now. Ω

[Luis Garicano is a professor of management and economics at the London School of Economics. Garicano holds the following degrees: B.A. (licenciado) in Economics, Universidad de Valladolid (Spain); B.A. (licenciado) in Law, Universidad de Valladolid; M.A. in European Economic Studies, College of Europe, Bruges (Belgium); M.A. in Economics, University of Chicago; Ph.D. in Economics, University of Chicago

Richard A. Posner, a federal circuit judge and a senior lecturer at the University of Chicago Law School, is the author of A Failure of Capitalism: The Crisis of '08 and the Descent Into Depression (2009). Posner graduated from Yale College (A.B., summa cum laude), majoring in English, and from Harvard Law School (LL.B., magna cum laude), where he was first in his class and president of the Harvard Law Review.]

Copyright © 2010 Dow Jones & Company, Inc.

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