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BOOKS:

The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, by Haruki Murakami {A Japanese detective story/war novel/Kafka rip-off. It's great.}

Love, Poverty, and War: Journeys and Essays, by Christopher Hitchens {First drafts of history, second thoughts on received wisdom, versatile meditations on great works of literature -- all by a man who can write about anything.}

The Code of the Woosters, by P.G. Wodehouse {The Rise and Fall of the "Black Shorts," and the best of Bertie and Jeeves. You'll need Wodehouse in your life eventually. Start here; you've 89 or so more to go.}

The Prophet Armed: Trotsky 1879-1921, by Isaac Deutscher {Magnificient biography finally back in print, along with Volumes II and III. But better start before the revolution -- and Deutscher's conscience -- was betrayed.}

Satan: His Psychotherapy and Cure by the Unfortunate Dr. Kassler, J.S.P.S., by Jeremy Leven {A sorely forgotten modern classic. Leven has since swapped the galley for the camera, directing such keepers as Don Juan Demarco and The Legend of Bagger Vance. Satan has relapsed.}

Colossus, by Niall Ferguson {Why the U.S. can't hack neo-imperialism, much to Niall's chagrin.}

Reflections on a Ravaged Century, by Robert Conquest {Don't even try to have an opinion about the twentieth century without reading him.}

Scoop, by Evelyn Waugh {One of the funniest books, ever. Shrinks the remainder of the "innocent abroad" genre to the vanishing point.}

Put Out More Flags, by Evelyn Waugh {Lapidary prose on the frisson between the wars. Basil Seal riding low before he rides again; Auden and Isherwood lampooned as "Parnsip and Pimpernell."}

The Complete Stories of Evelyn Waugh, by E.W. {Nasty, brutish and short, in short form.}

The Origins of Postmodernity, by Perry Anderson {Terrific writer from the London Review of Books and New Left Review, who ought to be more famous than he is, tackles lucidly the abstruse bloodhound gang -- from Habermas to Jameson -- of Theory.}

Saul Bellow: Novels 1944-1953: Dangling Man, The Victim, and The Adventures of Augie March, [Library of Congress Hardcover Edition] {Look: it's his world, we all just live in it.}

The Counterlife, by Philip Roth {How Portnoy learned to stop complaining and write a brilliant postmodern novel.}

Rise of the Vulcans, by James Mann {Probably the only low-blood pressure source on Bush's brain trust. Valuable for charting the progression of neo-neo-conservatism, and how Cheney and Rumsfeld and Wolfowitz contravened, and then dismantled, the Kissinger realpolitik foreign policy machine.}

Money, by Martin Amis {Forget Bonfire and Psycho. It took the English author of The Moronic Inferno: And Other Visits to America to effectively chew up the Reagan era -- largely by reminding us that it was also the Thatcher era. A fine lesson in history repeating, too: Di and Charles were TV's original Ben and J. Lo; the Self-on-Massi sex tape is where Paris (if she can read) might have learned her stuff; and the cavalier cash flow in this soft-boiled checkbook who-dun-it tale rivals that of any West Coast dotcom monkey a decade later.}

The War Against Cliche and Experience, by Martin Amis {If Amis kept on doing what he did in his award-winning collection of critical essays, James Wood would lose more hair. It's saying quite a lot that his non-fiction exceeds his fiction. Experience is by far the best memoir to appear in the last decade: a more muscular Speak, Memory, it's a midlife nostalgia trip pureed out of chronology, though somehow more cohesive than a stream-of-consciousness hodgepodge. Guaranteed to pluck at the coronary sinews for anyone dealing with the loss of a father.}

Lucky Jim, by Kingsley Amis {A comic genius on academia, Amis is the pitch-perfect representative of postwar male rage. None of that Angry Young Man, stuff, though. His apoplexy is hilarious at any age. The faces: "crazy peasant," "sex life in ancient Rome," "shot-in-the-back." Moo, by Jane Smiley, The Straight Man, by Richard Russo and everything by David Lodge seem impossible without this Platonic key ring to rule them all, and on the campus, bind them.}

The Letters of Kingsley Amis, edited by Zachary Leader {Pay close attention to the letters to Philip Larkin -- together with Larkin's Collected Letters (try eBay, sorry), these constitute the documentation of one of the most rewarding and hilarious literary friendships to date. Amuse yourself by guessing the exact page number where Kingsley abandons Communism.}

The Stories of Vladimir Nabokov, by V. Nabokov {I'm way underqualified, with my mean years on the planet, to state critical opinion. Still in larval adulation, which I understand is a longterm afflication. Read Anthony Lane's review in Nobody's Perfect. And M. Amis on Nabokov in toto in the prenominate War Against Cliche. And get a dictionary.}

The Moral Obligation to Be Intelligent, edited by Leon Wieseltier {The style is dated and stilted, but the insights are not. Especially worthwhile: the Orwell essay, the Mansfield Park burn, and "The Situation of the American Intellectual at the Present Time" (i.e. "What Do They Know of America, Who Only the Upper West Side Know?"}

The Irresponsible Self: On Laughter and the Novel, by James Wood {The bling to Dale Peck's blah.}

A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again, by David Foster Wallace {Self-indulgence and the consequences of a missing-in-action editor never had it so good. The state fair, cruise ship and TV pieces are the best. But also read the Lynch essay: it'll make you want to re-watch Blue Velvet, which you can conveniently buy below.}

Collected Poems, by Philip Larkin (edited by Anthony Thwaite) {Poetus mirabilis and, after Auden, the occupant of a near empty Hall of Metrical Wonders in the Postwar Anglophone wing of the museum. Master ironist and curmudgeon you least want to bludgeon.}

Paris 1919: Six Months That Changed the World, by Margaret Macmillan {A dryly told account of global dust-settling after what was then myopically known as "the Great War." Explores the follies of Wilson, Lloyd George and Clemenceau, which helped bring about WWII.}

Doomed, Bourgeois, In Love: Essays on the Films of Whit Stillman, edited by Mark Henrie {Discreet charms of the bourgeoisie given the scholarly treatment by the kinds of New Criterion-y people who liked Grosse Pointe Blank because John Cusack's assassin refused to unionize. Don't let the pedantry taint your judgment of Stillmania, though.}

Reading Lolita in Tehran: A Memoir in Books, by Azar Nafisi {A beautiful paean to Western literature from an Eastern scholar living under Islamic statism; the Gatsby trial and Jane Austen dance chapters are particularly enjoyable.}

The Persian Mirror: The Elusive Face of Iran, by Elaine Sciolino {For those with short odds on the next war of choice.}

Nobody's Perfect: Writings from The New Yorker, by Anthony Lane {He needs to stop it with the creepy drooling over Natalie Portman, but Lane is still the best around for losing it at the movies.}

The Collected Short Stories of Roald Dahl {Adult stories, less like his childrens stuff than what O. Henry would have been like if his ironic plot twists had involved wife-swapping, cannibalism, or turning infants into superhuman bee-monsters. Might be fun for the kid who never reads, actually.}

The Chicago Manual of Style, by the University of Chicago Press Staff {and the ghost of Allan Bloom.}

The Brothers Karamazov, by F. Dostoevsky, translated by Pevear and Volokhonsky {Incest! Murder! Theodicy!}

Collected Non-Fictions, by Jorge Luis Borges {A prose impresario short-winded enough to keep beside the toilet -- especially if your john is in a labrynith that transcends spacetime.}

Love and Hydrogen: New and Selected Stories, by John Shepard {Stories narrated by John Ashcroft, John Entwistle, Nazi rocket riders, the creature from the black lagoon, and others.}

My Life and Hard Times, by James Thurber {Think of David Sedaris, in turn of the century Columbus, Ohio. And without the gay schtick, or even a pretense at respect for his family.}

ALBUMS:

You Are the Quarry, by Morrissey {He's back! And almost paid off the deficit incurred by Maladjusted. A few gripes: "America Is Not the World" never fulfills the promise of its title. It's an unwieldy blunderbuss, not a rapier -- and the use of "hamburger" as synecdoche for our national obesity problem is a new hackneyed low for the Oscar Wilde of the microphone. "I Have Forgiven Jesus" ultimately works, but I can't help but feel that that one was just too easy.}

Weightlifting, by The Trashcan Sinatras {Remember them from your college radio daze? A brisk homecoming track, appositely named "Welcome Back" ("Everyone survived / Everyone's alive!" -- well, thank goodness) kicks off this highly accomplished return to musicmaking for an alt-pop band that shouldn't have stayed away so long.}

Strange Bird, by Augie March {With a name like Augie, it has to be good. It is. Analogs fail me.}

Evergreen, by Echo and the Bunnymen {Best 80's Band Comeback Album. No contest.}

Mermaid Avenue, by Billy Bragg and Wilco {A fucking classic. Ukanian bloke Billy Bragg manages to capture the rhythms of dustbowl Americana better than Dylan -- the obvious disciple/witch doctor to perform a Woody Guthrie resurrection -- ever could do. All lyrics by Guthrie, music by Bragg and Wilco.}

Don't Try This at Home, by Billy Bragg {Most people who hear Mermaid Avenue invariably want more of the man who brought it to them. This is Bragg's most "accessible" solo album, though not without the politics that's defined his career. "Accident Waiting to Happen" is a punk snarl against cultural fascism.}

Galore, by Kirsty MacColl {May this earth angel charm the knickers off the winged principalities. MacColl died a few years ago in a boating accident, but I can only imagine how well-attended her funeral must have been by the panoply of musicians guilty of "sampling" her Celtic nightingale voice. This album consists mainly of covers, but that's more than all right for someone generous enough to never ask for top billing, despite consistently stealing the show.}

These Are the Vistas, by the Bad Plus {"Smells Like Teen Spirit," the jazz standard. No kidding. Comes off not just better than you'd expect, but brilliantly.}

SMiLE, by Brian Wilson {Reviewed here. Check to the right.}

The Soft Bulletin, by the Flaming Lips {And the hard singing voice to take, but worth it anyway.}

It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back, by Public Enemy {More complicated rhymes and denser loops than have been on the radio before or sense, plus the guy with the big clock.}

Who Will Cut Our Hair When We're Gone?, by the Unicorns {Morbid, tinny, wildly innovative and beautiful.}

Loaded: Fully Loaded Edition, by the Velvet Underground {Funny, Lou Reed doesn't usually look this happy. Must be Laurie Anderson's doing.}

Traitor In Our Midst, by the Country Gazette {What you always thought bluegrass was supposed to sound like.}

The Modern Lovers, by the Modern Lovers {Speaking of Lou Reed, remember the guy with the guitar who gets shot in Something About Mary? Imagine that guy redoing "White Light/White Heat," but with lyrics about aging with dignity and eschewing drugs. That sounds like a snark, but its actually the SAM guy, and John Cale produced.}

The Queen Is Dead, by The Smiths {I can't believe you don't own this already. The summa of the Moz/Marr collaboration.}

The Boatman's Call, by Nick Cave {The Prince of Darkness may have been afraid to board a plane after 9/11, but this "New Testament" sound is proof of moisture's sustainability in Hell. "Into My Arms" is sweet enough to play your girlfriend on Valentine's Day, leaving the oldie-but-dreary "Deanna" to blast at her when she dumps you.}

No Cities Left, by The Dears {The lead singer cried when Morrissey asked the band to open on the "You Are the Quarry" tour. That kind of gone-to-pieces sentimentalism can only lead one place: straight down. Get 'em while they're new and good.}

The Boy With the Arab Strap, by Belle and Sebastian {Might as well order that black V-neck sweater, Rimbaud's Collected Poems, while you're at it. "Theoretical" bisexuality not a requisite, despite what angry twee detractors say.}

FILMS & TV:

Cannibal! The Musical. {Trey Parker's college thesis, a feature-length movie musical about the only American ever convicted of cannibalism. Not for all markets, but better than most of his later stuff.}

Before Sunset, directed by Richard Linklater {The sequel that doesn't feel like one. Why thirtysomethings who chat are more interesting than twentysomethings who do likewise. Some sluggish moments, but all made up for by a luminous final scene that made me fall in love with Julie Delpy once more. Bet it made Anthony Lane "spill [his] Sprite" again, too.}

Collateral, directed by Michael Mann {Tom Cruise has always been a hard-working, as opposed to naturally gifted, actor. This part was his pension come early. Michael Mann is the Richard Avedon of the moving Los Angeles image. And Jamie Foxx ain't too shabby, either.}

The Unbelievable Truth, directed by Hal Hartley {Surreal-ish debut from a master indy filmmaker and satirist. Yes, that is Edie Falco as the diner waitress.}

Henry Fool, directed by Hal Hartley {Hartley's masterpiece. Probably the only movie about writers that's ever worked. Barton Fink, anyone?}

Metropolitan, directed by Whit Stillman {Downwardly mobile 60's college jet set. Making a film about this demographic is like trying to play matchmaker to a Republican leper in Northampton, Mass. That the dialogue (and it's all dialogue) stays liquid-tongued is a monument to Stillman's talent... dare I say, genius?}

Barcelona, directed by Whit Stillman {Anti-Americanism when it was more funny than scary. The "subtext" speech belongs in Bartlett's. The DVD commentary is, as someone from the earlier film might say, "priceless."}

The Last Days of Disco, directed by Whit Stillman {An assault on 70's cliche in the best possible way -- the anti-54. Also known as Yuppies: A Defense. Chloe Sevigny gives grace to the one night stand, instead of head to Vincent Gallo.}

Mr. Jealousy, directed by Noah Baumbach {Who wouldn't hunt down the ex-boyfriends of Annabella Sciorra? Eric Stoltz had fewer difficulties with girls in Mask. Chris Eigeman from the Stillman flicks swaps Mayflower pedigree for facial hair (modeled on David Foster Wallace's Infinite Jest jacket photo), to varying degrees of success. An underrated romantic comedy, but don't say I didn't warn you: this film may engender awkward relationship conversation. It may also plant supersleuth-stalker seeds in frail men's heads. Or so I've heard.}

Blue Velvet, directed by David Lynch {So many epigones, so far from this mark.}

Father Ted: The Holy Trinity {BBC TV series about three priests on an island. No, not that kind of series, you sick fuck.}

The Office - The Complete Collection (First And Second Series Plus Special) {Creator, writer, director and star Rick Gervais used to manage Suede and now this. That's enough laurels for one lifetime. He can die now.}

Arrested Development - Season One {To think that Teen Wolf Too was just a glimpse of Jason Bateman's potential.}

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Charles Freeman and His Curious Defenders

New @ TNC (go there for links):

The controversy that has engulfed that now all-but-scuttled appointment of Charles Freeman to the post of National Intelligence Council leader is, I think, a bellwether moment for what today passes for "progressive" opinion. The fashionable charge, leveled by many leftish commentators (mainly in cyberspace), that group of hawkish Jewish pundits have got Israel on the brain and will sacrifice every other question of U.S. foreign policy to this monomaniacal subject appears now to be an acute form of projection. When it was disclosed, for instance, that Freeman, president to the Middle East Policy Council and a former ambassador to Saudi Arabia, was the recipient of $1 million of Saudi largesse, and has been a rather outspoken apologist for the kingdom - he referred at one point to its King Abdullah as "Abdullah the Great"- the expected liberal response to this would have been a raised eyebrow. Why would the Obama administration, foe of torture and the erasures of civil liberties at home, be amenable to an analyst who has clearly not done much analysis abroad?

Saudi Arabia is founded on Wahhabist Islamic doctrine designed as a means of social control. Its media is state-run, its women are forced to take the veil, Jews from other countries are forbidden entry, and its homosexuals are executed in the capital in a place colloquially known as "Chop-Chop Square" (whose name tells you enough about the means of execution). The Saudi monarchy, despite its declared antipathy to Islamic fundamentalism, underwrites particularly toxic and anti-Semitic editions of the Koran, many of which find their way into American prisons and international madrasas that graduate Islamic terrorists.

As it happens, Freeman himself has played a part in publishing propaganda about Islam and the Middle East. According to the Jewish Telegraphic Agency, the Middle East Policy Council helped put out an "Arab World Studies Notebook" for use in U.S. schools:

"In the version examined [in 2005] by JTA staff, the "Notebook" described Jerusalem as unequivocally "Arab," deriding Jewish residence in the city as "settlement"; cast the "question of Jewish lobbying" against "the whole question of defining American interests and concerns"; and suggested that the Koran "synthesizes and perfects earlier revelations."


Leave aside the ethnographical and political dubiousness of that paragraph (Jerusalem has never been wholly "Arab," even when it was controlled by the Ottoman Empire, and a Jewish lobby "defining" American interests is more categorical a judgment, you'll agree, than its unduly influencing American interests). If one were to assess Freeman's viability for the NIC chairmanship only from the standpoint of national security, how would one look on his endorsement of the very sort of religious chauvinism ("perfects earlier revelations") that our soft and hard power apparatuses are now marshaled to combat? The equivalent would be hiring a Sovietologist during the Cold War who consented to the belief that Kapital was the final word on all matters pertaining to political economy.

Yet here is how M.J. Rosenberg of the Israel Policy Forum reacted to news of Freeman's Saudi affinity on Talking Points Memo:

So what if Freeman is close to the Saudis. Why should that disqualify him for the intelligence post? Unless he has done something unethical or illegal, these smears are more evidence (if any more is needed) that being deemed overly critical of the occupation is today's equivalent of being called a Communist in 1953. It's a career killer, used to ensure that policymakers adhere to the neocon line."


The "occupation" here refers to the one maintained by Israel over Palestine, and by "overly critical" Rosenberg means Freeman applauds the Mearsheimer-Walt thesis that the U.S. alliance with the Jewish state is undeviating and self-defeating and only driven by an obsessive lobby made up of Jewish and Christian Zionists. Mearsheimer and Walt's careers have never been better since they published their notorious essay, which the Middle East Policy Council also ran in an unexpurgated version. Freeman found the authors "brave," and the fact that their scholarship was widely discredited across the political spectrum--including within the "realist" establishment from which M-W claim discipleship--impinges not at all on their courage, of course. Freeman today thinks that because Israel is the bête noir of the Arab world, supporting it means "universalizing anti-Americanism" and incurring more terrorist attacks against the U.S., but this is a belief he did not always hold. In 1998, he was of the opinion that

Mr. bin Laden's principal point, in pursuing this campaign of violence against the United States, has nothing to do with Israel. It has to do with the American military presence in Saudi Arabia, in connection with the Iran-Iraq issue. No doubt the question of American relations with Israel adds to the emotional heat of his opposition and adds to his appeal in the region. But this is not his main point.


Bin Laden would, by this assessment, have a serious grievance with enthusiasts for the Saudi regime, making Freeman and his ilk part of the problem, no?

Now, it would be easy to file Rosenberg's emission as a one-off were it not so characteristic of a broader leftish response to Freeman's appointment. The Center for American Progress blogger Matthew Yglesias also welcomed the addition of this lifelong Republican, classifying circulated concerns about Freeman's fitness for the NIC chair as a "war" initiated by those who suffering from a blindingly pro-Israel bias. Citing the Jewish sources for the contra position (these include Marty Peretz and Jonathan Chait, both of the New Republic, Jeffrey Goldberg of the Atlantic, and Michael Goldfarb of the Weekly Standard), Yglesias wrote: "I'm not sure whether or not the Obama administration will ultimately stand behind Freeman. I hope they will. But whether or not they do, I think it's very clear that the lesson here is that if you're a veteran policy hand who hopes to return to government one day and you believe something that you think AIPAC wouldn't approve of, that the smart thing to do is to keep those views to yourself."

AIPAC didn't approve of Hillary Clinton's public smooch of Suha Arafat in 1999, and it doesn't much approve of her proposed aid package to Gaza now. But there she still is, a high-octane secretary of state. As for the official AIPAC comment on Freeman, as of this writing, it consists of no comment at all. (Steve Rosen, a former AIPAC official who was charged with spying on behalf of Israel, and another former anonymous AIPAC member did speak out against Freeman. If their being voluble only as ex-officials testifies to anything, then it is to the restraining nature of that organization.)

As for the appointee's own disclosed statements on Israel, these have not been so terribly shocking to anyone who follows the debate closely, an admission the JTA (one of Yglesias's bugbears of Zionist-orchestrated career destruction) explained in the article I quoted earlier. His late-formed belief that reducing terror attacks against Americans is moored to a resolution of the Arab-Israeli conflict -- a prescription sometimes derided as the "Jerusalem Syndrome" -- was the position maintained by James Baker and Lee Hamilton in their Iraq Study Group Report, a white paper commissioned by the Bush administration and thankfully unheeded over the ultimately successful "surge" strategy. That Freeman managed to retain the aura of bureaucratic respectability while holding such traditional realist positions attests more to the endurance of those positions than it does to his ability to pass himself off as something he is not. He believes himself to be a true Burkean conservative when in fact he is an "ideological fanatic," as Chait rightly put it in the Washington Post. Sometimes - just sometimes - ideological fanatics don't write for Commentary or the Weekly Standard.

Do Rosenberg and Yglesias really believe that Freeman's compromising "closeness" to Saudi Arabia is only a threat to Israel and that alarm over this proximity is the exclusive property of a dislodged cadre of policy intellectuals or an ethnic lobby? That would mean that Craig Unger's bestselling critique of the Bush family's warm relationship to the House of Saud and Michael Moore's darkly traced filiations between Riyadh and Halliburton have now metamorphosed into Mossad conspiracies. It would also mean that the amnesiac left is now intent on doing what no one would have thought it capable of eight years ago: retroactively rehabilitating the legacy of George H.W. Bush.

If Rosenberg means to say that a tendency towards a foreign government does not necessarily impair one's ability to think strategically on behalf of the United States then I wonder how dispassionately he would react if it were discovered that the NIC appointee regularly vacationed with Avigdor Lieberman, or was the head of a think tank that received a generous endowment from Benjamin Netanyahu.

Interesting, too, that those who have tossed around the "McCarthyite" label were quick to accuse Freeman's opponents of harboring dual loyalties or engaging in "smear" campaigns. This was Stephen Walt's tack in a Foreign Policy blog post wince-makingly titled "Have they not a shred of decency?," in which he cited, without a whiff of irony, Jeffrey Goldberg's former service in the IDF as a sign of his un-American motive for questioning the patriotism of one Charles Freeman. (Though in his sentimental comparison of Freeman to blacklisted Communists the supposedly hard-headed Walt does tacitly allow that Freeman's political views are troublesome.)

The Nation's Robert Dreyfuss, who also warned of a "coordinated" neoconservative assault, goes further in his defense of Freeman, stating that he "is a one-of-a-kind choice: with an impeccably establishment pedigree, Freeman has developed over the years a startling propensity to speak truth to power, which is precisely what one would want in a NIC chairman." I had not known until now that The Nation esteems establishment pedigrees and believes oil-rich sheiks are latterday wretched of the earth.

Leftists who praise Freeman on the single issue of Israel-Palestine, ostensibly out of a concern for justice and human rights, say it's beside the point to confront his endless euphemisms and evasions on other human rights abuses. An unintended consequence of this maneuver is that these same leftists appear even more obsessed with the Jewish state than do the "neocons" they purport to monitor. They also look especially stupid in this instance because they're effectively arguing that what goes on in the West Bank is more crucial to U.S. national security than what goes on in the one country which produced fifteen out of the nineteen 9/11 hijackers. How's that for realism?

As it happens, Saudi Arabia is not the only oligarchy toward which Freeman has a strong tropism. Here is what he had to say, on a 2006 listserv, about the Tiananmen Square massacre of 1989, and it's worth keeping Dreyfuss' "truth to power" encomium in mind:

I find the dominant view in China about this very plausible, i.e. that the truly unforgivable mistake of the Chinese authorities was the failure to intervene on a timely basis to nip the demonstrations in the bud, rather than -- as would have been both wise and efficacious -- to intervene with force when all other measures had failed to restore domestic tranquility to Beijing and other major urban centers in China. In this optic, the Politburo's response to the mob scene at "Tian'anmen" stands as a monument to overly cautious behavior on the part of the leadership, not as an example of rash action.

For myself, I side on this -- if not on numerous other issues -- with Gen. Douglas MacArthur. I do not believe it is acceptable for any country to allow the heart of its national capital to be occupied by dissidents intent on disrupting the normal functions of government, however appealing to foreigners their propaganda may be. Such folk, whether they represent a veterans' "Bonus Army" or a "student uprising" on behalf of "the goddess of democracy" should expect to be displaced with despatch from the ground they occupy. I cannot conceive of any American government behaving with the ill-conceived restraint that the Zhao Ziyang administration did in China, allowing students to occupy zones that are the equivalent of the Washington National Mall and Times Square, combined. while shutting down much of the Chinese government's normal operations. I thus share the hope of the majority in China that no Chinese government will repeat the mistakes of Zhao Ziyang's dilatory tactics of appeasement in dealing with domestic protesters in China.


This is why Human Rights Watch - evidently the latest bastion of neoconservative dogmatism, as Reason's left-libertarian editor Matt Welch mordantly observed - opposes Freeman's appointment. It's also why 87 Chinese dissidents have written President Obama protesting it without so much as a winking allusion to Oslo or road-maps.

As for Rosenberg and Yglesias, where they do concede Freeman's ugly c.v. it is more out of cynical (and partisan) resignation than real horror. Yglesias helpfully admits that defending Freeman on principle is not a cause he wishes to stake his bloggerly reputation on. (That might hurt his career more than rebuking AIPAC.) But this grudging concession was then followed by another change of subject: back to the motives that impelled the discovery of Freeman's China problem in the first place.

Andrew Sullivan, who himself has come around to legitimizing the Mearsheimer-Walt perspective on his popular blog, assembled a time-line of Freeman complaints, demonstrating to his own satisfaction that the chorus of criticism did indeed begin with Israel. Yet left out of Sullivan's recapitulation of events is Eli Lake's Washington Times coverage of Freeman's unexamined foreign ties, a series of articles that provided the journalistic cui bono for vetting further a man tasked with compiling the nation's annual intelligence estimates. (Lake's biggest scoop, in fact, was showing that the White House had not even been privy to Freeman's appointment; Director of Intelligence Dennis Blair undertook it autonomously, according to Blair's spokesman Wendy Morigi.)

So it must be out of willful credulity that Rosenberg emailed Jeffrey Goldberg:

None of the bloggers in question had any interest in Freeman's views on China until Steve Rosen (and some of his colleagues) decided to stir up the opposition to Freeman because of his alleged lack of fidelity to the occupation. In fact, I hear that the offending China quotes were only discovered in the context of a Google Nexis/Lexis search to find incriminating material to block Freeman's appointment because of his Middle East views. China was not even an afterthought.


The Weekly Standard first uncovered the Tiananmen Square excerpt (not using Google or Nexis/Lexis, by the way), and that magazine has in the past run editorials calling for continued U.S. trade restrictions on China on the basis of its appalling human rights record. To my knowledge, this policy has no discernible link to Jerusalem, although it does tend to chivvy die-hard Nixonians who believe morality has no place in foreign policy calculations.

In Evidence of Things Not Seen, James Baldwin tells of how the search for Chaney, Goodman and Schwirner proceeded in Mississippi. The police had to drag the lake in which the bodies of these murdered civil rights activists were rumored to have been dumped. The police didn't discover those bodies, but they did discover other corpses no one had been seeking. Does it not miss the point to focus on what motivated Freeman's detractors from doing due diligence on him when he is provably an inveterate excuse-maker for totalitarianism?

By way of a more immediate example: I have no idea where the Armenian lobby stands on Tiananmen Square or Saudi Arabia, but I nonetheless credit it with tipping me off to the Anti-Defamation League's denial of the Armenian genocide, an erasure of historical truth deriving from a callous geopolitical consideration--and one that benefited Israel, at least according to Abe Foxman. (James Fallows, who inveighed against a Congressional resolution acknowledging the first holocaust of the 20th century because he, too, didn't want to upset Turkey, deserves no credit for standing up for Freeman now. If this is what Fallows considers a robust "contrarianism," I prefer the tired blood of conventional wisdom, thanks.)

At minimum, this strange affair that has seen liberals and not a few conservatives joined in martyring a true reactionary has indicated the level of political maturity of a certain breed of thinker, who, still reeling from the last administration, wishes to make his sole conviction for the next one doing whatever makes the dreaded "neocons" angry. A vice of electoral victory is said to be hubris, but this reeks of insecurity. It also signals just how short-lived the left's hold on power may be.

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By Michael Weiss {Ian McEwan's On Chesil Beach, originally reviewed in The Weekly Standard.}

Rise of the Faux-cialists
By Michael Weiss {Three poseurs who would have Marx spinning in his grave (plus their real-deal counterparts), originally published in Jewcy.}

Man of Letters: Kingsley Amis, the laureate in prose of postwar Britain
By Michael Weiss {Zachary Leader's biography of Amis, originally reviewed in The Weekly Standard.}

Stepson of the Time
By Michael Weiss {A reconsideration of Vasily Grossman's Life and Fate, originally published in The New Criterion.}

The Surge Can Work
By Michael Weiss {Everyone's wrong about the president's new war plan, originally published in Jewcy.}

A Kibitz on Pure Reason
By Michael Weiss {The author of Betraying Spinoza on rationalism, passion, and great 17th-century hair, originally published in Jewcy.}

Brainwashing's Nemesis
By Michael Weiss {How Rick Ross became a cult buster extraordinaire, originally published in Jewcy.}

The Whiz Kid of Warfare
By Michael Weiss {How Noah Shachtman has revolutionized military reporting, originally published in Jewcy.}

A Blacklist The Left Could Use
By Michael Weiss {Meet the Christopher Hitchens of postpunk, originally published in Jewcy.}

Is Marriage the New Dating?
By Michael Weiss {A divorcee, a young married, and a singleton debate wedded bliss, originally published in Jewcy.}

The Jewish Jihad for Jesus
By Michael Weiss {Why converts are leading the evangelical movement, originally published in Jewcy.}

Tribal Threads
By Michael Weiss {The designer of Gytha Mander on the holy land, holsters, and honeys, originally published in Jewcy.}

Some Kind of Republican
By Michael Weiss {The real legacy of John Hughes, published in Slate.}

Moochers of the World, Unite!
By Michael Weiss {The true genius of Entourage, published in Slate.}

Imagining Conservatism
By Noah Joshua Phillips {George Will's nostalgic conservatism debunked.}

Servicing Stalin
By Michael Weiss {Robert Service's lousy biography of the ogre of the East.}

If Children Don't Understand Evolution, Maybe It's Because We Don't Teach Them Science
By Nic Duquette {False mental categories and primary assumptions in the Intelligence Design debate, naturally deselected.}

Affirmative Conservatives
By Nic Duquette {The ivory tower kulturkampf version of corporate welfare.}

Affirmative Conservatives II: David Horowitz and "Academic Freedom"
By Michael Weiss {Bias doesn't end at the quadrangles, and why this isn't such a bad thing.}

What's Your Blog Worth?
By Nic Duquette {The essay that launched a thousand trackbacks, and made DailyKos lie about his income.}

It's The Stupidity, Economists: The Debate Over Social Security
By Nic Duquette {Paul Krugman gets it wrong, but fortunately his shrillness doesn't suffer.}

Will China Buy GM?
By Nic Duquette {Weighing the possibilities of the great rev forward.}

The Less Deceived: John Kerry and the Postwar Tragedy of Vietnam
By Michael Weiss {Election cycle dress-blues.}

When Philosophers Collide: Matthew Stewart's The Courtier and the Heretic
By Michael Weiss {Another felicitous installment in the meet-profound genre.}

YBRET: Lunar Park Reviewed
By Michael Weiss {Bret Easton Ellis can't write, and wants to prove it to you. Again.}

Freaky Deaky: A Rogue Economist Has Fun, And So Do We... Up To A Point
By Max Gross {Freakanomics, or It's Not a Crack House, It's a Crack LLC.}

The Schiavo-esque Death of the Novel
By Nic Duquette {Why is our nation unread?}

A Beautiful Mind: Rebecca Goldstein's Goedel
By Michael Weiss {Incompleteness made simple.}

Yawn: Malcolm Gladwell's Just-Okay Bestseller
By Michael Weiss {Use your intuition to turn a fun 5-page magazine article into a 200-page book with covers and everything.}

A Tiny Receptacle for a Thrilling Tale: Michael Chabon Reins Himself In and, Finally, Delivers What He's Promised
By Nic Duquette {What he said.}

Magic for Grown-Ups: Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrel
By Nic Duquette {Highbrow Harry Potter.}

Comical Chic: David Sedaris Still Has It
By Nic Duquette {The pleasures of Dress Your Family In Denim and Courduroy.}

Sex, Highs, and Videotape: Havoc: The Unrated Version
By Michael Weiss {Anne Hathaway redeems all schlock, especially with no shirt on.}

Who's Your Huckleberry?: Tombstone as an American Classic Western
By Michael Weiss {Val Kilmer robbed of an Oscar.}

Evil Will Always Win Because Good Is Dumb: Episode III
By Michael Weiss {Darth Vader rises in the search for more money.}

Peer Review: The Aristocrats, In Theory and Practice
By Michael Weiss {You'd rather wait for Godot than the punchline, but that's the point.}

Larry & Anna & Dan & Alice: Closer, But No Cigar
By Michael Weiss {Mike Nichols' swing and a miss.}

In The Gloaming: Before Sunset on DVD
By Michael Weiss {Julie Delpy phunks with my heart.}

Sniffing The Exhalation of Their Own Herd: Bright Young Things
By Michael Weiss {Jazz Age espieglerie made live-action.}

In Vino Gravitas: Alexander Payne's Knockout New Film Sideways
By Michael Weiss {Worthy of the hype.}

Michael Moore and Fahrenheit 9/11
By Michael Weiss {He was more convincing as the suicide bomber in Team America.}


The Dirge Urge: The Arcade Fire's Funeral
By Nic Duquette {Melancholia and the finite sadness.}

Good Music for People Who Like Bad Music: the new Modest Mouse album is better than their old stuff, but it still sucks.
By Nic Duquette {Nic holds back.}

Nouvelle Vague: Putting the High-Concept Into "Concept Album"
By Nic Duquette {You get this album when you sign a lease in Williamsburg.}

Overweight: Polyphonic Spree's Together We're Heavy
By Nic Duquette {Hippies... Hippies all around me... Hippies everywhere.}

Good Egg: Wilco's A Ghost Is Born
By Nic Duquette {Remarkably unscrambled after the anxiety of follow-up to a legendary album.}

Taken for Lost, Gone and Unknown for a Long, Long Time: SMiLE and the resurrection of Brian Wilson
By Nic Duquette {And they haven't even started dying yet.}

The Face of Catholicism
By Orli Sharaby {The magic eye belongs to Jesus.}

Czechs and Balances: One Year After the EU Moved East
By Orli Sharaby {Mitteleuropa shrugs over continental integration.}

Shiny, Happy Praguers Clapping Hands
By Orli Sharaby {The latest (two-year-old) Prague fashions: Vaclav Havel brought back the "moist smudge moustache."}

The Prague Fall: Communism's Death Hasn't Stopped the Self-Inflicted Kind
By Orli Sharaby {The unbearable state of being.}

The Beverly Hills of the East: Plastic Surgery in Prague
By Orli Sharaby {From DiaMat to Nip/Tuck.}




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