A Wake UP Call? If Not Now, When?

With the crude, crass, vacuousness of the Republican debates now behind us, it is Donald Trump's rallies that have become the focus of his campaign. Empty catch phrases, sometimes meaningless, rambling non sequiturs are met with loud applause and chants. These displays, however, have very little traction. 

The media has now turned its attention to Trump's gleeful cheerleading of violence at his rallies: his offering to pay legal fees for those who might be arrested for using violence against protestors; his saying from the podium about a protestor that he'd like to "punch him in the face"; his encouraging the crowd to "knock the crap" out of protestors. These are simply escalations of his mocking of women, mocking of his Republican opponents, mocking of Democrats and President Obama, and his mocking, early in the campaign, of a handicapped reporter. A recent graphic showed a picture of the crippled reporter juxtaposed with a picture of Trump imitating him. The text asked, "Is this 'Making America Great Again'?" Here is my response.

It's called "playing to your audience." Remember, they laughed and cheered when he did this. Trump didn't make these people—he just empowered them to be as ugly as they really are and then encouraged them to compete to one-up each other. 

We are who we have allowed ourselves to become, and we have allowed the worst among us to drive our national narrative for the last thirty years. Selfishness, greed, self indulgence, ugliness, coarseness, baseness, violence: In the hands of our consolidated corporate media they have come to redefine our national character. From Jerry Springer to Seinfeld (the show, not the comedian), from waffle and ice cream commercials to hotel commercials, these traits are not ridiculed or vilified, like they generally have been in our own past; no, they are championed as the means to success.

So often it goes under the guise of "values"—traditional values, family values, conservative values, religious freedom, PATRIOTISM. The tragic irony is that most of us have stood by while our language, our values, and our country were co-opted by liars, swindlers, cheats and thieves whose ironic double-speak has led to unfathomable hypocrisy, cruelty, greed and violence in both domestic and foreign affairs. Trump, Cruz, Rubio, Kasich, Ryan, McConnell, Palin, Bachmann, Gohmert and the hundreds of other little wannabe conservative extremists are the result of our own national apathy, ignorance, and complacency.

We need to WAKE UP, and just possibly, the vile and repugnant Trump campaign will be our wake up call although the ugliness of the similarly themed McCain/Palin and Romney/Ryan campaigns were not. More important than merely waking up, however, we need to fight this pernicious moral cancer and restore honor, integrity and a true sense of freedom and justice for all. That just might "make America great again."

The Game Needs to Change—We Need to Put the Civil Back into Civil Society

I am deeply tired of the "who can be uglier" race that we currently have going on in both parties. On the Republican side, it is the candidates themselves that have tried to prove that they are MORE racist, sexist, homophobic, xenophobic, and greedy than the next guy. On the Democratic side, we have the spectacle of the candidates being relatively cordial and actually talking about (to be honest, rather minor) differences of opinion while their partisans on social media bend over backwards to be the most offensive, outrageous, hate mongers and conspiracy theorists, outdoing the Republican machine in their trashing of the other's candidate. It's like the idiotic anger and elation at a mindless and meaningless sporting event except, in this game, the opponent is, obviously, the Devil incarnate.

This election is serious, perhaps the most serious in my experience with politics, and I remember the Eisenhower/Stevenson contest in 1956. The first time that I was eligible to vote for Governor was 1970, and I voted against Ronald Reagan. I have voted in every election since then. I have also watched the intentional dumbing down and incivility of the electoral process since the Republicans lost so badly with Goldwater in 1964. The rhetoric of Nixon but especially Agnew took the discussion to a new level of vitriol. Reagan continued the all out assault on "liberals," but it was the election of Bill Clinton that ushered in the new era of Conservative talk radio and, with the deregulation and consolidation of media, the advent of NEWSCorp, FOX News, Clear Channel, and and the no-holds barred, partisan, mischaracterization, distortion, and outright lying that has simply come to be accepted as spin. The media, including social media, has been not merely complicit but instrumental in this negative transformation. Just like Scalia's court decision about innocence, the actual truth is completely irrelevant. The news no longer presents actual perspective or context. They don't even try to find and present the truth. They merely offer a "he said/he said" paraphrased report or 3-seconds of edited footage with whichever slant their corporate masters have demanded.

Unfortunately, most people have not demanded better; instead, we have bought into their game. We do not find ourselves talking about what really matters and our vison of what this country should be or how we might get there. We simply post ridiculous graphics with false quotes and sarcastic gibes to make the other side look foolish or corrupt and then gleefully attack the other side for their obvious ignorance, stupidity or evil.

I posit the following. I don't care if you are for Sanders, Clinton, Warren or Obama, Trump, Cruz, Kasich or Paul. The only way that we will ever crawl out of the miasmic mire in which we have sunk ourselves is to begin to actually think deeply, discuss civilly, and listen carefully—repeating the process indefinitely—until the fog of corrupt corporate control has lifted, and we can return to the business of creating a civil civil society (This is not a mistaken repetition—"civil" needs to be at the heart of a progressive civilization).

Frost—Lovely, Dark and Deep—An Explication

Frost—Lovely, Dark and Deep

by Tim McMullen

A critical analysis and explication of the poem, “Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening,” by Robert Frost

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.

His house is in the village though;

He will not see me stopping here

To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer

To stop without a farmhouse near

Between the woods and frozen lake

The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake

To ask if there is some mistake.

The only other sound's the sweep

Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.

At first reading, the circumstances of “Stopping By Woods On a Snowy Evening” seem highly uneventful. A man traveling down a road stops by woods. There is nothing else around, and he is struck by the beauty of the scene. Though inclined to stay, he realizes he has commitments and must proceed on. We might suggest that the conflict is between duty and beauty, or “work before (or instead of) pleasure.” This characterization, however, fails to account for the emotive penetrability of the poem. This poem touches the reader, almost unconsciously, and suggests somehow that there is something going on: some deep tension or struggle that, though not readily explainable, is nevertheless imposing and significant.

Much of this affective response comes from two sources: one, the tone and mood of the poem; the other, the specific images employed. Frost, in the midst of mood, hides the conflict of his images. The initial picture one gets is that of beauty, a snowy woodland scene; it is unblemished by farmhouse or farmer, nature in its pristine state. “The woods are lovely...”— we can almost hear him sigh after each word, dark and deep. He must, however, move on; he cannot remain in this idyllic locale.

At this point we might identify the significance of the poem as the conflict between man and nature. Nature is seen in the symbols of the woods, the snow, the lake, the wind. The symbols which set man apart from nature are houses, village, farmhouses, reins of the horse (which are man-made) and promises (which are also man-made). Man is a part of Nature; that is, he is part of the organic whole. He is born into nature in its undifferentiated whole, but as he becomes Man, he is severed from the rest of Nature. By recognizing or experiencing his uniqueness, he becomes “wholly other” than the rest of nature. One of the attributes of the uniqueness of man is that he cannot return to his natural beginnings. Notice that he lies between the woods. He may go into them in a spatial sense, but he cannot be part of them in a substantial sense. He must, therefore, remain with his promises to men (Man) and exist outside nature. He has miles to go, and these must be in Man's world.

(Note: I recently read an article on Frost's poem by Earl Daniels, in The Creative Reader, by Stallman and Daniels, on Page 932. His comments, I think, are so significant that I must include them here. Daniels begins with a paraphrase very close to the one I offered in the beginning, identifies this as a real experience, then further states:

“…[P]oetry, reduced to its simplest, is only experience...Experience moved the poet; he enjoyed it, and wanted to put it down on paper, as experience and nothing else [my italics] partly because writing is a self-contained action which is fun for the writer, partly because he wanted the reader to enjoy the experience with him. If we are to learn to read, we must begin with elemental, irreduceable facts [mine also] like this” (P. 934).

I find this definition of the creative process and the creative goal as appalling as it is useless. Daniels' was responding to the attempt to find philosophica1 or intellectual meaning in Frost's poem. It is a call to pure literalism; in his use of experience, he denies both the poet and the reader any derivable insight, but deals specifically with the phenomena. He further implies that if an author meant his work to have any social or philosophical meaning, it would be obvious and explicit. He gives as examples of such writers Milton and Lucretius. I don't feel the need to refute this absurd claim, but merely to ask the holder of this view to point to any great poet that can be thoroughly entombed in this Procrustean Bed. I offered this note in order that I may continue examining the intricacies of the poem, because, using Daniels' criteria, I had completed my only legitimate exegesis of the poem in the very beginning.)

We have, then, suggested two levels on which the poem may be read, but neither of these fully explains the emotive quality of the work. This limitation occurs because, as yet, there has been no analysis of the specific images that lend the feeling of depth. Several of the symbols were enumerated before in differentiating between nature and man. These images when viewed deeper may illumine the whole.

Woods are the first image we see; they are a part of nature, and the image is one of life. By the fourth line, however, we find that the scene is not the exultation of life, but the intrusion of death through the winter and the snowfall. Rather than joyful seclusion, there is a hint of desolation: the village is far from this place; there are no farmhouses, farmers or other people; the only sound other than the sleigh bells is the whisper of the wind. Reinforcing the specter of death is the frozen lake. What is more barren?

Further, water is, like nature, usually a symbol for life: the endless flow of the river, or the life-giving moisture that is essential to existence; but frozen lake water is useless; it is a complete denial of the life water brings. Also, it is “the darkest evening of the year.” Surely, the initial image of a pleasant halt in the woods is negated by this foreboding scene as it now takes shape. It is desolate; the evidence of nature on every side shows the presence of death. Whereas, previously, man would have been an intrusion on the simple, peaceful, scene of life, he is now the only symbol of life. Our use of life is the same as when we say, “there's no sign of life.” Life means human life, and nature is distinguished from it.

We obviously recognize, though, that the tone and feeling of the man (and the poem) is not of dread and repulsion but rather of fascination and attraction. Somehow, the peace and the void of death are especially alluring, and the sighs of “dark” and “deep” are even more real than when directed merely at the virgin beauty of the woods. Now, they emphasize the longing for the peace and rest of death: the woods are lovely, dark and deep. And, of course, the final image of repose is the sleep of the last line. The first sleep is a transitory state from which we will awaken, but the last line is a final sleep, and sleep related directly to deep, indeed the last and deepest sleep of all.

Despite the presence and the lure of death, the man does not acquiesce to its inducement; he recognizes that he will sleep, but that sleep is in the future. At present, he has a responsibility to life; that is his promise. It is a pact to fulfill the nature of man, which includes a predisposition to keep on living. These images of life and death are the symbols which develop the tensions found in the poem. They are not, however, a cohesive and complete explanation; we still require a final interpretation in order to understand the poem as a unified whole.

To apprehend the unity and to include all the symbols, we must make an even deeper and more extensive study. The setting for the poem now is not the roadside wood but the mind of man. “Whose woods these are I think I know” utilizes woods to indicate thoughts of death. “His house is in the village though” speaks of where man resides; that is, the village (or life) should be the realm of man's thoughts, but they sometimes steal over to contemplate death. The stealth or hiding is implied in “he will not see me….” To rephrase it, the woods are thoughts of death; the speaker is the owner of the woods, but he belongs in the village, not in the snow-filled woods– that is, not with thoughts that are full of death. We have already acknowledged the death symbols in the vacancy of other human life (“no farm houses”); “the woods and frozen lake”; “the darkest evening of the year.” To complete the full concept of the poem, however, we have one more major theme: that of the horse.

If we remember that our present context is within the human being, we can integrate the horse symbol into our schema. To do this we must view the sleigh as a total machine, a single entity; the horse and driver are part of the whole. The driver cannot drive the sleigh without the horse; the horse cannot have direction without the driver. We must, of course, discard the desire to see the horse as just a part of nature; he is too much a part of the integrated whole. The middle two stanzas, one-half of the poem, are directly concerned with the horse. Lines six, seven, and eight explain why he would think it queer to stop; and nine, ten, eleven and twelve explain his desire to go on. Literally, a horse shakes his head not in question, as is ironically assumed, but in apprehension and anxiety from the foreboding desolation of the woods. As for the sleigh as a unit, the horse is seen as the physical impulse or instinctive part of man, biologically disposed toward maintaining life; the driver is the mind of man, the steering intellect, the part of the unit that can contemplate, accept and even desire death.

The life instinct suggests pushing on by pulling at the reigns, that “there is some mistake” in stopping, but the intellect offsets this with listening to the “sweep of easy wind and downy flake.” The sweep of downy flake evokes the image of a shroud being gently laid. What follows is surely the most evocative and intense image in the poem, an image which leads to a peak of emotion and then a swift climax and conclusion. “The woods are lovely, dark and deep” is an exquisite image, acute in its conflict. “Lovely” emotes warmth and attractiveness, whereas “dark and deep” woods suggest the gloom and despair of death. The words, due partially to the alliteration, seem almost to echo in the brain, “lovely, dark and deep”!

But he will not sleep yet, the life-force, the insistence of the horse, the will to live, remind him of his solemn obligation to fulfill his role as man. “His house is in the village”; his promise is to life, the village and the company of man. He rejects the isolation of death and thoughts of death and returns to his journey. The journey being an obvious allusion to the “road of life,” he still has miles to go (and time to spend) before he ends his journey and rests; and more places to go (things to do; life to live) before his final sleep.

Submitted to Dr. Philip B. Nordhus, English Professor, English 101, Chico State College (now CSU, Chico) in 1970.

©1985 Tim McMullen
All rights reserved

May the FARCE BE With ME

I notice that I have only posted three times since June, and two of them are movie reviews. This one is prompted by Michael Hiltzik's review of "Star Wars: The Force Awakens" in the Times. His review is under the headline: Admit it: 'Star Wars: The Force Awakens' stinks -- and here's why.

Here's the irony. I was not a big fan of the original Star Wars, but at least I did go see the second film. I have not seen any of the other four sequel/prequels. Nevertheless, and knowing what I know of the original, unoriginal Star Wars, and despite Hiltzik's cogent attack, I will still probably go see this one in IMAX 3D because I like the format of the big screen, big sound, and these days I watch most of the "gotta' drive backwards at least once in the car chase" movies (in other words, nearly every movie that makes it to the IMAX action/adventure screen) if only for the nostalgic glimpse of Harrison Ford in the "Chewie, we're home," scene that has already played 20,000 times in the previews and ads over the last year.

In 2014, I saw 55 movies in the theater. This year, I saw only 40 although Star Wars will make it 41. I didn't venture out to any of the "art house" movies this year. We didn't even see the Woody Allen movie this year which we used to go to every time one opened, but it didn't play close enough to home, and we were busy enough that we didn't get out to see his latest.

I give ratings to all the movies that I see at AMC (where I see 99% of my movies), and these are the ones that got "5 stars" from me this year (in the order in which I saw them): "Selma," "Birdman," "Spy," "Love and Mercy," "Mr. Holmes," "The Intern," and "The Martian." I wanted to see "The Walk," but I was busy those couple of weeks.

The ones that I gave top marks to were simply because they were fully satisfying films within their genres. The docudramas on a period in the lives of Martin Luther King and Brian Wilson focused on interesting and well-told aspects of those lives, though quite different in presentation. Except for those two, I noticed that each of the movies is in a different genre. "Birdman" is a quirky flight of fantasy comedy and gritty realism intertwined. "Spy" is a funny spoof of the genre, far more satisfying than "The Kingsmen" or "The Man from Uncle" because of much greater wit and humor, while balanced with a star turn for Melissa McCarthy. This is the first time that I truly enjoyed her because they allowed her to be other characters than the brash, crude, slovenly, obnoxious character that has been her stock and trade.

"The Intern" was a modest "non-rom com" casting DeNiro against type, and exploring the vagaries of today's corporate world against the questions of life and home (something that we are exploring with a political vs. business twist as we are binge-watching the Danish series "Borgen" with which we were gifted as a Christmas present). Whereas "Borgen" is gritty and dark, but enjoyable, "The Intern" was very light, but very enjoyable. "The Martian" is the only big "blockbuster" on the list, and despite being somewhat predictable, it was carried off with the right amount of humor, drama, action, and "McGyveresque" ingenuity to offer a satisfying theater experience.

I have saved "Mr. Holmes" for last because, for me, it was the best. It was perhaps the gentlest of the seven films (and the other 40 films that I saw), but it had fine character development, it had marvelous performances from the three principal actors (the child actor was terrific), and it was intriguing, powerful, and touching in a very nice combination of those emotions. "Mission Impossible-Rogue Nation" got a 93% on Rotten Tomatoes; "Inside Out" got a 98%; whereas, "Mr. Holmes" only got an 87% and only 75% of the audience liked it. Nevertheless, I rank it as my most enjoyable movie of the year. By the way, I did see both of those, and I gave them each 4 stars.

The worst on my list from this year are the remarkably story-less, character-less, "The Fantastic Four"; the mindless regurgitation with an alarmingly uninteresting protagonist and plot of "The Transporter" (the TV series is actually much more amusing, compelling, and interesting than any of the franchise movies); and my surprising number one entry for over two hours of mindless tedium was "Mad Max" which I already panned in great detail in earlier blog.

And if you haven't seen it, I still recommend my last year's top disagreement with the critics and the fans, "The Secret Life of Walter Mitty," for it's marvelous blend of humor, character, story, fantasy, and marvelous cinematography. I blogged about it last year in my negative reviews of "American Hustle" and "Inside Llewyn Davis."

Now, I'm gearing up to go see "Star Wars 7: The Marketing," in a couple of hours. May the farce be with me.

A Plan for Iran and the Deal's Detractors

Here is the comment from and my answer to a Facebook friend who wrote about a satirical video featuring Jack Black and Morgan Freeman in support of the Iran Nuclear deal:

• I think celebrities endorsements are irresponsible. What do they know any more than any citizen of this country. We have to be mindful of with whom we are dealing. Iran wants the U.S. and Isreal wiped off the globe. The Iranian government will not be honorable and keep their word. For lack of diplomatic venues, we , the U.S. and Isreal , may need to settle this with force.

  
  
• 

  Tim McMullen Wow, look at those statements. "I think celebrities endorsements are irresponsible. What do they know any more than any citizen of this country." Yet, clearly, you think that you know more than they do. Did you actually watch the video? It uses satire with which each alarmist statement of the actor is met with a more reasoned response from a more knowledgeable person. 
  
  Secondly, you say, "We have to be mindful of with whom we are dealing. Iran wants the U.S. and Isreal (sic) wiped off the globe." So, not only do you know more than the "celebrities," but you can also read the minds of millions of Iranians. 
  
  Do you know anything about the history of Iran and the United States? We overthrew their democratically elected leader and imposed a ruthless tyrant, the Shah, and his family as a proxy government. He was a terrible dictator for decades. When he was finally deposed in a revolution, we sheltered him from the wrath of his people. The Islamic revolution that deposed him was the direct result of our corrupting their system, destroying their democracy, and opposing their revolution on both economic and religious grounds. We had scurrilous American military in positions of leadership suggest that we should wage a Christian Crusade against Islam. If they hate us, which so many in their country do not, they certainly have reasons. Their leaders, just like Netanyahu or right-wing politicians here, use the vilification of a particular country or countries (the "AXIS of EVIL") to rally support for all sorts of internal agendas that would otherwise go nowhere.
  
  You then say, "The Iranian government will not be honorable and keep their word." Hopefully, given the history just mentioned, you see the irony in that statement. So, not only do you know more than the celebrities and the diplomats and negotiators for the US the U.K., France, Germany, Russia, and China, who support this deal, you are clairvoyant and can actually predict the future with certainty. 
  
  The people making this argument about "untrustworthy Iran" are the exact same people who made this argument about Iraq, who claimed that they were "HIDING" WMDs, who led us into an illegal, useless, and costly war in which we lost thousands of American lives and injured hundreds of thousands of American soldiers; we destroyed hundreds of thousands—perhaps millions—of innocent Iraqi lives (in fact, every single Iraqi, even Saddam Hussein, brutal dictator that he was, was completely innocent of every lying accusation that the Cheney/Bush administration used to get us into that war, a war that had been planned by right wing think tanks for over a decade prior to 9/11).
  
  Finally, you say this: "For lack of diplomatic venues, we, the U.S. and Isreal , may need to settle this with force." Have you learned NOTHING from Vietnam, Afghanistan, Iraq? Why on earth do you trust Netanyahu's overt political maneuvering, who has been consistently wrong in his predictions, rather than hundreds of diplomats, including 5 former ambassadors to Israel who believe that this is the much better approach? Besides, Netanyahu does not expect or plan to fight this war; he is doing everything that he can do goad the US into doing it for him.
  
  More importantly, you open that argument for war with this: "FOR LACK OF DIPLOMATIC VENUES"???
  These negotiations were worked on for a very long time; millions of hours of prep behind the scenes; they involved the world's superpowers, both those who are aligned with us and against us, as a way to resolve a very difficult issue. This WAS the "diplomatic venue" on a grand scale. 
  
  Those who oppose this deal, including the three main talking points of the TV commercial against it, have been claiming the same false things about this deal for many months, if not years, before they knew anything about it. The Republican Presidential candidates and legislators who have offered furious opposition, are stating the exact same false talking points months before they had read a single word of the agreement. My guess is that most of them have still not read it. 
  
  Part of the irony and stupidity of the naysayers' arguments is their parroting of Netanyahu—who only months ago was claiming that Iran was within months of having a nuclear bomb—and despite the fact that no one disputes the fact that this will absolutely prevent them from accomplishing that for at least ten years (ten years is an incredibly long time in this current world of international flux), Netanyahu and his Republican backers and hacks claim that this deal is worse than the status quo. It's ridiculous on its face if you actually listen to and think about their claims.
  
  Please consider actually reading this article by James Fallows in which he identifies those who are against and for the Iran nuclear agreement and articulates an analysis of the actual terms of the agreement. Then, if you want to argue on the merits of the agreement, please feel free.

  
  

  http://www.theatlantic.com/international/archive/2015/07/the-iran-debate-moves-on/399713/

"Mad Max" — It wasn't my fault; she wanted to see it, but I still had to apologize to Carolyn for this one.... We should have known better.

The high praise for this movie must be seen for what it is: adoration of one element in filmmaking at the expense of most others. The claim that it has a complex, but subtle story, or worse, that its story is "dense" seems excessively hyperbolic. It is clearly meant to be an adrenalin rush, and it is. Unfortunately, it is an excessively redundant exhilaration. Praise is heaped on the myriad forms of inventive destruction; others note the uniqueness of the various vehicles. Notice, therefore, that I do not claim "repetition" but merely redundancy. This next observation is a personal judgment to be sure, but I also found the score to be overtly manipulative and unsubtle (although occasionally silly—the guitar player being particularly goofy and amusing...one or twice...then just gratuitously absurd, especially when it became part of the climactic action). 

This is minimalist storytelling and maximalist filmmaking, offering two hours of remarkably adept choreography of acrobatic and balletic crashes, explosions, immolations and mayhem, predicated on five minutes worth of story,  two minutes of uninteresting dialogue, and thirty seconds of character development. To be honest, though, it might have actually been more interesting if it had offered no dialogue at all (I mean this sincerely).

The young acolyte who turns (absurdly quickly) from bloodthirsty minion to devoted paramour to altruistic martyr is the only dynamic character in the film. Every other character is static, as is to be expected in a video game actioner. The emerging trust between the two main characters or the young, chrome warrior was never in doubt, though hardly credible from any character's viewpoint or experience. Of course, we didn't have time to offer a rational explanation for this instantaneous teamwork because we had gauntlets to run and endless stuff to blow up. As for the great sci-fi setting credited by some, again minimalist to the extreme: sand, mud, funny cars, stilts, and a treadmill—that's it.

Many commenters have praised the film for its subtle themes and its "showing and not telling" approach, but those themes are extremely underdeveloped; in fact, they are merely nods to a range of well-worn (but significant) and much better explored (elsewhere) themes of religion, economics, exploitation, tyranny, demagoguery, fanaticism, patriarchy, feminism, ecology, war, loyalty, courage, heroism. They are all in there, but this movie neither tells us nor shows us anything of substance about any of them. It's basically, "Yeah, society's foibles...yada, yada, yada...."

I've tried to give as few spoilers as possible and still give a reasonable assessment, but as for the ending, let's just say it was the most inexplicable and unlikely part of the movie, but since we'd wasted all of our time on all that great action, the denouement just happened, voilà, and "happy ever after," which, again, was never in doubt for a moment. I am guessing that even if you knew absolutely nothing about the Mad Max franchise, an objective viewer would find every single development thoroughly predictable.

Having watched "San Andreas" the day before, I found that movie's action sequences relatively implausible, its mass destruction derivative (or typical ala most apocalyptic movies and every Marvel superhero movie), its deus ex machina plot contrivances and coincidences completely absurd, and its saccharin family plot line cliched; nevertheless, perhaps especially because I'm a fan of Caltech, I didn't walk away feeling that I had really wasted two hours on a pointless shoot-em-up like I did with "Mad Max." 

Don't get me wrong, from an artistic point of view, as an action movie, "Mad Max" is very well done, and if all you demand from your action movie is non-stop action, then "Mad Max" is nearly perfect. On the other hand, if you want a story that at the very least challenges you to think, even slightly, about issues or ideas, then any of the three earlier Mad Max movies and nearly any other sci-fi offering, no matter the logistical gaps, will offer you more (I would, however, exclude "Lucy" from that group—it was too silly, illogical, and gap-filled to merit viewing except as an exercise in unintentional and ludicrous humor). 

It is the hyperbolic, euphoric praise and the absurdly high rating on Rotten Tomatoes that prompted me to respond to this thread. If you want to see a fine, articulate review of the movie that offers a reasonable explanation of the praise, I encourage you to read super-reviewer Nate Zoebl's analysis at the bottom of the RT page for "Mad Max." It is very well done.

By the way, below I have offered the link to a short video, "Chains," created by Sharon Lewis, that adeptly, and with minimal budget, covers nearly all of the aforementioned themes in a meaningful and memorable way (and not a single car crash) in just ten minutes. It is a video that I used with both my creative writing students when exploring science fiction and with my video production students when looking at short, narrative film making. I am sorry for the 40-second intro (although the film series is worth viewing). Check it out.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/06/28/black-voices-breakthrough-theater-chains-_n_3517684.html

“How Does an Unbeliever Develop a Sense of Morality?"

I recently noticed that it's been quite a while since I posted to the blog, so here goes.

My Facebook friend, Howard Prouty, posted an article about a young woman in a dispute with her roommates who was caught spitting in and otherwise contaminating the food of those roommates. She is being prosecuted. Howard posited the legitimate question, “How does an unbeliever develop a sense of morality? That is my morning meditation.”

I responded:
Morality and ethics are rational constructs. For an individual in true isolation, they have no meaning or purpose. However, when a second individual is introduced, a "society" is created. In order for that society to flourish for any length of time, certain rules must be established. "Not killing" is a perfectly logical first step; without that admonition, your society quickly dwindles back to "the one" and inevitable extinction (unless "the one" learns an alternative means to procreate). Animals, even without our faculty of speech, create rules for their offspring. “Listen to me and do what you're told,” “Obey your elders,” "Don't shit where you eat," etc.

The books of religion were written by men to explain and justify their existence. They were used to articulate rational rules that would control and maintain their society. Unfortunately, in every case, the initial, rational rules become entwined in superstition, and fear of the supernatural quickly becomes the rationale for adhering to the rules. Once this transformation takes hold, then the most irrational and foolish distortions become "written in stone" through dogma and ritual.

Stripped of their superstitious trappings, rules like "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you," become perfectly reasonable precepts by which to live.

When Howard asked the question again, I replied:
Why would anyone make the assumption that this young woman was not steeped in religious training and religious history? If she's Catholic, she'll be forgiven with a quick mea culpa. If she's Muslim, she can claim they were infidels. If she's a fundamentalist Christian, she can do anything she wants and twist a scripture to justify her actions. If she's Jewish, she can claim that they were a threat to her existence. If she's Hindu, they were clearly lower caste. If she's Buddhist, she can claim that she thought they were Muslims. If she's a Quaker..., well, then, she has no excuse. If she'd been an atheist, she would have found better ways of coping through the application of intellectual analysis, invoking respect and problem solving to find a rational solution.

Another commenter joined the conversation:

“Tim... that is an excellent reply. But it WILL get worse. It's a new day. And any and all remnants of accountability for one's actions in life are evaporating. Mankind has historically gotten off on public torture and executions. Guillotines, hangings, the rack, slaves to lions... but just as we as a race supposedly had evolved... a nation born to be a world leader against tyranny and injustices or persecution... set forth in the belief of freedoms and under the banner "In God we trust"... we have regressed to basic primitive "Godless" acts. This has happened to so many now—in the form of our children. Technology begat advancement, and while no one's watching... they murder in the name of an obscure phenomenon called Slender Man.

It isn't that man won't stop using their religious beliefs to justify but that what little tether there was by acccountable morality has been lost. Those who were to set the example gave in and joined the party. With "progress" and advanced technology... we merely expanded the options.”

I answered these reasonable observations in this way:

I understand your pessimism, Kerry. I, on the other hand, call myself "the hopeful cynic." I do see a steady advancement, but as with most progress, it is "two steps forward, one step back." Many, if not most, of those gleefully inhumane forms of audience entertainment that you enumerate were either done in the name of religion or as a form of persecuting a particular religion. We actually have moved past most of those barbarities.

As you suggest, however, technology has certainly given us new means to destroy each other in the name of God and Country. From bigger and better guns and bombs to unmanned drone strikes, we continue the killing spree nearly unabated.

The surge of fundamentalism that has recently grasped Christianity, Islam, Judaism (the monotheistic religions) as well as Hinduism and Buddhism (polytheistic) seem to be a sort of last gasp in defiance of the steady march of true freedom: not the distorted "freedom to discriminate and legislate against others based on a particular religious bias," but the actual advancement of equality for women, the advancement of equal justice for all races, the advancement of rights for the LGBT community, the acceptance of the right of every human being to a safer, healthier environment.

The fundamentalist resurgence is a backlash against the transfer of power reflecting the obvious fact that those who who have stacked the deck aren't interested in having it reshuffled.

Do I believe that the impulse for human depravity will ever be fully eradicated? I haven't a clue. But I do believe that we have gone a long way toward containing it, and it was the development of ideals and principles designed to free governments and people from the domination of the irrational excesses and oppression of religion and aristocracy (also predicated on religion, i.e., "divine right") upon which our country was founded.

Remember, "In God We Trust" and "One nation UNDER GOD" were only added to the money and the pledge in the 50's, and they were added by some pretty rotten people to accomplish some pretty rotten things. The merging of religion with capitalism, using the pulpit to champion the triumph of the ruthless greed of the few and the oppression of the many came about in the 1880's; it was under attack from 1900-1920; it reemerged full throttle during the 20's, then submerged during the 30's and 40's; it again held sway in the '50's; it was lurking under the surface in the '60's; in the 70's it gained momentum; and since the 80's it has been the dominant world view of our preachers and our politicians. The irony is that people are turning their backs on these false and oppressive expressions of faith-based economies and religious fundamentalism. Hence, the drastic measures to cling to power.

Technology can be the bane or the salvation of mankind; it is not the technology but mankind who will decide. I believe that the human race really does have the potential to outgrow our petty and foolish adherence to demagoguery and chicanery, superstition and destructive tradition. I believe that we have the potential to not only learn to "do unto others as we would have them do unto us," but that we actually have the potential to choose to do so as well.

If we don't annihilate ourselves first (which we certainly might choose to do—a lot of people are making a lot of money facilitating that possibility), we can learn to adopt an approach to life that says, simply (though not easily accomplished), "Every day of my life, I will strive to be better for myself, for other people, and for the world." Repeat after me and teach it to your kids: "Every day of my life, I will strive to be better for myself, for other people, and for the world." It could have a much more profound impact than either the misguidedly altered Pledge of Allegiance to the Flag or the ubiquitous Lord's Prayer.

American Sniper and the Fallacy of "They Fight to Keep Us Free"

• This piece is the conjoining of two comments from Facebook. The first is a response to an eloquent and important observation by the excellent singer-songwriter, Nathan Bell, who began his post with this statement: "Somewhat lost in the furor over American Sniper is the simple fact that almost every person in this country lets these wars continue without a second thought and just ignores the fact that it is the children of OTHER people dying and being mentally and physically maimed while they go shopping, go to movies, and carry on." He ended his statement with this observation: "We have another election cycle starting way too soon, and if we really want to fix the problems that movies like American Sniper bring out in the open we are going to have to vote out the militarists and the chicken hawks on both sides of the aisle."

  
  Here are my comments.
  

  
  

   We have been constantly at war for over 14 years in Afghanistan, Iraq, and Pakistan, but it is nearly an invisible war. We hear nothing about the day to day efforts. We hear nothing about the casualties: nothing about our soldiers; nothing about their soldiers; nothing about innocent civilians being killed. Nothing about the trillions of dollars that we have poured into these immoral wars. We just hear about the "DEFICIT" and the need to cut social programs because of it.
  
  We have run literally thousands of air strikes and drone strikes in Pakistan, Yemen, and elsewhere, and the data suggests that at least 1/10 and as many as 1/5 of those killed were civilians. We hear NOTHING about it. Furthermore, I am afraid that we have so bought into the immoral notion of "acceptable collateral damage" and the overt political demonization of "them," that we might not care even if we did know the truth about our ugly little wars.
  
  We ask both our military personnel and private mercenaries to do the bidding of those who profit from endless and pointless war, while we tacitly accept the fallacious fantasy that "our brave soldiers are fighting to KEEP US FREE!" Or, as that coward Lindsay Graham mewls, "So that we don't have to fight them here." Yet, the very people who promulgate the war—the politicians, pundits, and profiteers—while mouthing patriotic platitudes and verbal "support" for our veterans, actually slash many programs that are so necessary to serve the many needs of our veterans. 

  
  

  In line with the radical social and economic policies of Paul Ryan, Rand Paul, Ted Cruz, and the many others who argue that the social safety net harms the people who need it, they gleefully send people into war, then, to those who have had their legs blown off, they say, "Pull yourself up by your own bootstraps." And the American People have not raised their voices against these vicious, self-serving hypocrites.
  
  We have become so partisan, so much of which is based on the most petty of pretenses, that the deep injustice and immorality of a profit-based invisible war may not even show up on the radar of the 2016 election. Since it is so intertwined with the "profits over people" philosophy, perhaps we can call it out and change it.
  

  
  Here is my review of "American Sniper" from another thread, and in response to the claim that they are "keeping us free."
  
  
  

  Anyone is entitled to their opinion, but opinions that are not rooted in fact are merely ignorance and, in too many cases, dangerous. This "commenter" says, "...you have no idea what it takes for this country to maintain our freedoms," when he is talking about the war in IRAQ, an illegal and immoral war based on proven, incontrovertible LIES, a war that destabilized a country and radicalized a population and a region; at the same time, our cowardly response to an attack by 20 people lead us to sacrifice our basic principles of honor and integrity, free speech and individual privacy, while destroying our economy.
  
  I did see the movie, and it is well made. My guess is that Eastwood is actually a bit more subtle than the film's supporters suppose; in fact, I am fairly certain that most will miss the film's several deeper points. I have not read the book, but this film does not portray a shining hero (despite the accolades and moving portrayal of the real life individual in the epilogue); it portrays a very flawed man who is obsessed and deeply troubled. It depicts the powerful negative impact of war on the human psyche. The most moving part of the piece is a mother reading her son's last letter at his funeral (I don't want to give away who it is, but it is perhaps the most important statement in the film).
  
  Finally, whether he intended it or not, the heart of Eastwood's film is basically just a mano y mano battle between an Iraqi sniper and an American sniper. My question to anyone is this: If the American sniper is a hero for the number of kills he made of men, women and children, is the Iraqi sniper also a hero, perhaps a greater hero, because he was actually protecting his homeland and his family from an invading army? If not, why not?
  
  The major failure of the movie, and one that has been pointed out, is that it does not offer any historical context except a visceral reaction to the September 11, 2001, attacks. It makes the case for a man who wants to do his duty, serve his country, protect and save his comrades, but it never explores any justification of our actions in Iraq. Perhaps Eastwood expects his audience to have a sense of history; after all it was only 14 years ago. Unfortunately, this is the United States of Amnesia in which half of the country is still under the delusion that we attacked Iraq for two clear reasons, they had WMD's and they were responsible for 9/11. Both of those "reasons" were not merely "mistakes," they were KNOWING lies perpetrated on the American people, the Iraqi people, and the people of the world by many major figures in the Bush administration whose rapacious interest in Iraqi oil is well known. Without that context, heroism becomes a much easier fantasy to maintain.
  

Honoring All Veterans and Service Members, but, as always, One in Particular

I am posting this for friends and family who are not on Facebook and who may not have had a chance to see this.

Honoring Veterans should not be a one day event, nor should it merely be a political photo op or an empty media gesture. As a nation, we should be vigilant about how our troops are deployed, how they are equipped, and of equal importance, how they are treated when they complete their duty and return to civilian life. Education, housing, medical care need to be improved substantially for veterans as with many other sectors of our society. 

Although I am a conscientious objector who refused induction into the military during the Vietnam War, and although I have opposed every American military incursion since then on rational and moral grounds, I honestly and sincerely honor all my friends and former students who have served and who are serving in our military. If you serve with honor, you deserve to be honored.

And, of course, as always, we are particularly proud to honor my father, Melvin Dayne McMullen, President of the Inland Empire Chapter of the Distinguished Flying Cross Society and former National Commander of CBIVA (China, Burma, India Veterans Association) who served as a nose gunner with the Flying Tigers in WWII.

Mel McMullen, in uniform, circa 1944, from the book,
When Tigers Roared, by Jeffrey B. Greene.

 Mel McMullen, nose turret gunner, in front of his crew's plane, DRAGON LADY, 
circa 1943-44, from the book, When Tigers Roared, by Jeffrey B. Greene.

Flying Tigers patch from the pages on Mel McMullen, in the book,
When Tigers Roared, by Jeffrey B. Greene.

Mel McMullen, on the right, National Commander of CBIVA, at a memorial gathering
(in China, I think? My parents can fill us in on this one).

For A Good Time (another Halloween trick or treat?)

FOR A GOOD TIME
by Tim McMullen

His quiescence was shattered by the piercing shrillness of hideous laughter. He lifted his head slowly, painstakingly; a quaking chill ascended his spine as he did so. When his eyes finally focused, he surveyed his surroundings in startled disbelief. The shrieks and cackles sliced through the dense, musty atmosphere and assaulted his already frayed nerve-endings. The acrid smell of smoke and human odor flared his nostrils in a most obscene manner. He squinted through the murky air to the walls around him.

Barely visible, the implements of destruction hung suspended from the walls and ceiling. A huge chain, each link fully as large as a human skull, had been attached to the wall at one end, while the other was fixed to a grotesque two-headed scythe sporting spade-shaped spikes at both ends. He shuddered as his gaze fell upon savage metal hooks which could shred a man's flesh like a plow in a field of jello. Then he saw the murderous wooden clubs that could mash a man to a bloody pulp. The wailings of the other victims pierced his groggy senses as he stared in slack-jawed wonderment. Wiping the sweat from his forehead with his forearm, he let the arm linger there in an attempt to block out the scene.

Wilton Fischler blinked his eyes rapidly, threw back his head, splayed his fleshy lips in a piscatorial grin, and liberated a resounding belch. Ducking his head sheepishly, he admitted to himself that he was more drunk than he had thought. After some moments of silent embarrassment, he surveyed the wavering room again.

It was nearly pitch dark, or so it seemed to him, with only the flicker of a few candles on distant tables. Given his present state of inebriation, it was understandable that the nautical paraphernalia strewn around the walls had taken on a different and much more ominous shape in his eyes. The anchor, the grappling irons, and the belaying pins had been drunkenly metamorphosed into the sinister and threatening instruments he had seen; hence, the torture-chamber effect.

"I guessh I better get outa' here while I shtill can!" he mumbled, scratching the thinning fringe of brownish hair at the back of his head with a vacant look. It had been a tough week; sales were way down, and, more particularly, he had "the horn." In fact, it was the old "manly urge" that had propelled him to this little bar on the wharf, but thus far his overtures had encountered firm rebukes and little else.

"To hell with 'em!" he murmered. His hand fell to his right pant leg, and he felt on the outside of his pocket for a moment; then, reassured, he patted the spot and said, "Who needs these broads, anyway?" He lowered his gaze to the table for a moment and then began lifting the empty glasses, bottles, and cocktail napkins that lay scattered on the table, obviously searching in vain. "It must be around here shumwhere," he insisted. "Here, little Billy-willy! Here, little bill."

Howls of laughter rose from the youngsters at the next booth.

"Wha' sho funny?" Wilton muttered as he rose to leave. He painstakingly pulled his wallet from the breast pocket of his shiny, blue, serge suit and carefully removed a twenty-dollar bill which he then place neatly and methodically on the table, exclaiming, "That should cover the damages, my dear,"· to no one in particular. He turned slowly and searched for the dull green light of the exit.

Upon turning his head, he found that the room, in a fit of uncooperativeness, had begun to spin around him in a most disorienting and disconcerting manner. He grabbed hold of the table in an attempt to steady his equilibrium back down to the familiar, easy rolling which he generally equated with such wet evenings.

Gradually, the walls began to assume a more reasonable shape, and the floor flattened itself into a semi-walkable surface. Wilton launched himself on a course which he hoped would lead him through the maze of tables and patrons toward the back of the place; once there, he counted on finding a rear exit. He had some trouble negotiating the path, and more than one table corner reached out to jostle him rudely; nevertheless, despite all of the pratfalls thrown at him by the unfriendly room, he eventually made his way to the rear of the establishment. Here he found himself confronted with the specter of a long, desolate hallway, illumined dingily by the glow of two red neon signs.

One sign had a quite familiar message; he read and comprehended it almost immediately. It said "M-E-N." Undaunted by the darkened hallway, he propelled himself toward the men's room. Upon reaching the door, however, he found that the second glowing sign was now readable. He gaped up at it in unequivocal astonishment. There, in bright, red-lit letters,was the word, "OMEN."

Wilton felt the word register in his besotted brain slowly, as if some slug-footed insect had to transport the message from his eyes to his mind. When this torpid courier finally completed its commission, the import was clear: He, Wilton Fischler, was to be the recipient of some form of special warning. He readied himself by extending his left arm toward the door frame in an attempt to calm the almost convulsive trembling which wracked his unwilling body. Unfortunately, as his hand reached the door, his arm gave an involuntary lurch, said lurch being just sufficientt o swing open said door. Tumbling helplessly through the opening, he twisted instinctively so as to land in a sitting position. He sat, visibly jarred (pickled, as it were), staring at the luminous soothsayer flashing fierily in the distance.

After some moments, he perceived that its message was changing. First, the sign had gone out, leaving him in near darkness. It returned, however, displaying the same word as before, "OMEN." Then it blinked out, suddenly, only to reappear with a new image. He rubbed his eyes and read the new word carefully. Emblazoned in scarlet luminescence, it glowered ominously: "WOMEN!" Again it flashed and was gone. Finally, the full intent of the transmission was articulated as the sign began to change rapidly back and forth, from one word to the other, each pausing for a second and then giving way to its counterpart. Still he sat in the men's room doorway staring up at the gleaming edict. 

"OMEN" [pause] "WOMEN" [PAUSE] "OMEN"..."WOMEN"..."OMEN!"

After another thirty seconds, the message winked out and did not return. With its final flash, he felt his stupor subside significantly. A fierce spasm contracted his scrotum, threatening to retract his testicles permanently. Fischler jerked his knees toward his chest and fumbled helplessly at his pants.

"Oh, Jeez' ...Oh, Jeez'...Le'mme alone!" he cried. Only then did he realize exactly where he was sitting. He pulled himself up and staggered out of the doorway to the other side of the hall just as two young women emerged from the portal beneath the recently expired oracle. Standing on tiptoe with his back to the wall, Wilton pressed his behind and his sweaty, outstretched palms against the wall of the dingy hallway in an effort to escape the reach of the two approaching females.

"No! N-N-O-O-O! Huh-uh...Huh-uh…Huh-uh!" he shook his head as he chanted his terrified incantation in their direction.

As they passed, the blonde nymphet in the floral-fishnet stockings whispered to the vixen in the leatherette mini-skirt. Gales of giggles accompanied their return to the smoky bar. Frantically, Wilton plumbed the depths of his right front pocket. With a gasp of deliverance, he plucked the scrap from his pants, and with trembling hands he gingerly unfolded the paper and held it before him. It resembled the silhouette of a human bust, but Fischler, the Wary, knew better; it was, in fact, the center of one of those toilet seat covers, the useless part that trails down in the water and sucks the ring into the toilet when it's flushed.

There, in the middle of the oval, was the telephone number he had scrawled down off the restroom wall several hours earlier. In a flurry of frantic fingers and flying paper, he shredded the scatological memorandum and its now dreaded contents. Finally, flinging the confetti over his shoulder with cavalier flair, Wilton, the Wise, caromed past his extinguished savior and, braving the frigid blast of air which blew by him as he pushed the handle of the rear door, lurched confidently out into the brisk darkness of the expectant night.

©1985 Tim McMullen

All rights reserved