Raison d'état

 Trump's Christmas season tweet-storms about invading Panama and annexing Greenland followed a pattern that has become all too familiar. First, he will log onto his social media platform and say something obscene and outrageous—like signaling that he plans to commit the international war crime of aggression by invading the sovereignty of another nation and unilaterally abrogating the terms of a US treaty (with a country that is a close ally, at that!). 

Then, amidst their consternation, people will try to make some kind of sense of it. Where is this bizarre provocation coming from? Next, the rationalizations will start. And by the end of the day, what had begun just a few hours before as a megalomaniacal absurdity has suddenly acquired an air of inevitability. Welp, people start to think—I guess we're invading Panama and Greenland!

Folie à Don't

 A friend and I watched the widely-reviled Joker sequel (the one with Lady Gaga) last night. For the most part, my conclusion is that the negative critical and audience reactions were justified. It does not work as a film. Whereas the first movie in the series succeeded in establishing a tragic arc, with rising tension that culminates in a foreseeable catastrophe—this second film never really manages to generate suspense or tension. It is outrageously padded—with bad musical numbers, featuring half-forgotten pop songs from the '70s—and trial scenes that mostly recount in onerous verbal detail scenes we all remember from the first movie (and it was more interesting to see them the first time, than to be told about them the second). 

Watching the film, I begin to see why tragedies do not often lend themselves to sequels. After the moment of tragic "discovery," when the protagonist realizes they have doomed themselves through their own actions, and that it is too late to do anything about it—the story really is over. Watching them suffer even more for what they already know is not particularly meaningful, and it cannot ennoble them further. It's like if someone produced a sequel to Macbeth, in which the Scottish king is still alive, but is even more depressed than before—and simply goes on being depressed and victimized for the rest of the play. 

Plastic All the Way Down

 It appears from our family's gathering by the Christmas tree this year that the current trending gift, at least in the kitchen utensil department, is the silicon spatula. The appeal of this device is that it offers an alternative to the usual plastic spatula that the rest of us still use—and which is feared to be one of the sources of the microplastic particles that are constantly leaching into our food and bodies. 

The last time I read into this issue at all, it was still unclear if microplastics are actually a bad thing. That is to say, there are any number of broad trends in public health that they could be causing—endocrine disruption, declining sperm count and fertility, etc. But we don't actually know at this point if they are the primary cause—or even a major factor. Any number of things could be responsible. 

England Alone

 Not content with hijacking American democracy, Elon Musk increasingly seems bent on destroying democracy all over the world. I don't know how else to read his increasingly flagrant meddling in the politics of other nations in order to back far-right authoritarians. Exhibit A this week would be his eerie endorsement of the extreme right AfD party in Germany. Even after this, of course, Musk will still have his defenders—particularly in the Bay Area ("power has never lacked eulogists," as Elias Canetti once wrote (Stewart trans.))—but there's really no two ways to read that one. Endorsing a neo-fascist party—in Germany, of all places—is a dead give-away. 

Some have expressed consternation that he made this choice, but it really shouldn't surprise us. Musk has generated a series of related controversies over the past few years in which he appeared to endorse Hitler apologetics and to embrace antisemitic conspiracy theories. His open backing of AfD fits the same mould. Add to this the fact that Musk's foreign policy positions all eerily align with those of authoritarian nations, like Xi's People's Republic of China (viz Musk on Taiwan) and Vladimir Putin's Russia—and it really does appear he is on a worldwide crusade to quell restive liberal democracies that stand in the way of his ambitions. 

Small and Insignificant

 All too many events recently have appeared to reward Trump's favored strategy of trying to bully people into submission. When the president issued his recent unprovoked diktats against Canada and Mexico, for instance, both of their governments more or less indulged him (perhaps, sadly, out of necessity). When Trump, Musk, and their hordes of followers attacked Joni Ernst, for appearing to waffle on the Pete Hegseth nomination, she fell into line. 

Because of this, it was particularly satisfying when House Republicans tonight finally defied his bullying threats by funding the government—without the debt ceiling increase that Trump tried to tack on. As the New York Times aptly summarizes: "President-elect Trump and Elon Musk threatened to ensure a primary challenge for any House Republican who voted for a bill that didn’t include a debt limit increase. Tonight, 170 of them did just that."

Trump and Aristophanes

 A rather downbeat New York Times article from earlier this week includes the depressing observation that one of Biden's remaining tasks—in the twilight of his administration—is to try to claim what credit he can for "the healthy economy that he is turning over to his ungrateful successor." And indeed, this describes the situation well. 

Biden successfully oversaw the recovery from the pandemic. During his administration, the U.S. economy returned to a robust pace of growth, and the post-pandemic inflation slowed to a manageable rate. Now that Biden has done the hard work of governing while the Fed performed the unpopular task of taming the labor market just enough to bring prices down—he has to hand the keys over to someone who contributed nothing to this difficult task—but who will almost certainly take home all the credit for it. 

A Bullying Hulk

 The most chilling aspect of the last few weeks is just how much power Trump has managed to consolidate already—and he's not even in office yet. Each day brings fresh news that some corporate CEO or tech insider has just lined up to kiss his ring. Trump's behavior in all this seems to establish a simple pattern of reward and punishment: he may appear magnanimous if you join Bezos and the rest in toadying and flattering him. But he will be utterly vicious and ruthless if you dare to oppose or criticize. 

His lawsuit this week against Ann Selzer and the Des Moines Register is a quintessential example of his mean-spirited tactics. Obviously, it's a frivolous lawsuit. Trump will not win on the facts. But that hardly matters. The purpose of the suit is to bully, intimidate, and harass by imposing costs on others—and no doubt it will succeed in that goal. It's actually all too easy under our broken system of civil litigation to force people to pay ruinous legal bills, even when you have no serious case against them. 

The Road to Soft Authoritarianism

 Ever since the election, we've all been playing the dismal game of trying to figure out just how much of Trump's authoritarian rhetoric on the campaign trail we should take seriously. Any given day may find him saying something even more despotic and unhinged than we could have expected. And yet, the next day may find him appearing to waffle on some of his more disturbing campaign pledges. In short, he's so mercurial that his words alone don't give us much to go on. 

If we look past the shifting rhetoric of the moment, however—and focus on his actions and (crucially) the way other people are already responding to him—we start to see the outlines of how he really could severely curtail free expression in this country and transform the United States into a quasi–personalistic autocracy in a very short space of time. Indeed, we might already be partway there—and he's not even president yet. This is the road to soft authoritarianism. 

Bright Young Things 2.0

 The New York Young Republicans were back this week for another edition of their annual gala—an event where a bunch of far-right YouTube influencers gab about destroying democracy while wearing tuxedoes and fancy gowns. The aesthetic aspect of this event continues to fascinate me. It just so completely fulfills someone's worst possible conception of moral nihilism in the social media age. Here are a number of rich young New York socialites, after all, playing at apocalypse, and tossing off half-serious overtures to fascism, all while clad in black-tie. Patrick Bateman could hardly do worse. 

The New York Times coverage of the event captures the ambience perfectly. Steve Bannon, wearing his trademark quasi-militia gear, shrieks about retribution. We will show the enemies of MAGA "no mercy," Bannon roared. (Beneath the huffing and blowing, there are signs of a deep insecurity and fear on Bannon's part: what if, he appears to dread, Trump actually moderates on some of his extreme rhetoric once he retakes office? Trump, after all, appears to be trying to give himself leeway to backpedal on "mass deportation" right now—raising alarm among his far-right supporters.)

More Mystery Drones, Please

 The mystery drone story is great good fun. 

I hope we can keep it up. 

This is exactly what American politics should be. 

There's an intriguing spooky conundrum. With just the right frisson of the uncanny. 

But the stakes are also incredibly low. No one is getting hurt here. 

The Game of War

 On this week's episode of the Rational Security podcast, the various co-hosts had a version of the argument that many of us have had with our friends over the past year or more—namely: the justification, or lack thereof, of some of the Israeli government's actions under international law. They weren't talking about Gaza or the West Bank this time, however; rather: the discussion focused on Israel's choice to bomb targets inside Syria after the fall of Assad's government. 

The scale of these attacks has been astonishing. The New York Times notes that the IDF launched as many as 350 air strikes at Syrian military targets, in the wake of Assad's ouster, and before the incoming government (whatever form or none it may ultimately take) could even take power. Reportedly, these strikes demolished almost the entire Syrian navy—as well as various other assets (including, according to the IDF, the former Assad regime's chemical weapons stockpile—which none of us should miss!)

"Daddy's Home"?

 Okay, so I've written before about Tucker Carlson's bizarre "spanking" tirade at one rally during the 2024 Trump campaign. How could I not? It's such a rich vein of unintentionally self-revealing psychological material to mine. Of course, at the simplest level, Tucker's delectation over the idea of Trump bending America over his knee and giving the restive democratic public a "spanking" was a fantasy of male violence and power. It was, most obviously, something for a sadist to get off to. 

But what also struck me about it as a big give-away was that Tucker simultaneously casts himself in the receiving position. He is pulling back the psychological curtain and letting us know that he actually longs for "Daddy" to come home too. And, of course, his boot-licking adoration of various would-be strongmen, including Trump and Putin, fits the mould. On the one hand, therefore, Tucker's "spanking" fantasy is one of violent domination; but it is also—at the same time—one of obedient submission. 

Thoughts on the Fall of Assad

 With regard to events unfolding in Syria this weekend, I have to admit, sadly, that history tends to suggest this will all end horribly. Like its geographic neighbors in the Middle East, Syria is home to intense ethnic and sectarian divisions. It's quite possible that the emerging victory of the Sunni-aligned rebel forces could mean future persecution of Syria's Shia and Alawite populations. The collapse of the Assad regime—hopeful as it may appear now—could give way in the near future to more civil war and sectarian strife—just as the fall of Saddam Hussein did in Iraq, or of Qaddafi in Libya, or of Bashir in Sudan... Indeed, history suggests this is not only a possible outcome, but a likely one. 

Still, though, as Benjamin Wittes notes—even while knowing all of this, it's impossible not to be swept up in the joy and hopefulness of the moment. Millions of Syrians who have been exiled over the past decade-plus now have a chance to go home (even if it ultimately proves to be a rapidly-closing window). And a dictator who bombed his own people with chemical weapons and tortured and jailed dissidents is now stripped of power and forced to flee the country he terrorized. Only Tulsi Gabbard will be shedding any tears over that outcome. Thus, when it comes to the fall of Assad on its own terms, one can only echo Percy Bysshe Shelley's thoughts on the fall of Napoleon: 

Errata and Marginalia 029: Abish

 Walter Abish, Alphabetical Africa (New York, NY: New Directions, 1974). 

Among the many books I've featured in this errata series, Abish's experimental classic Alphabetical Africa seems especially to invite this particular parlor game of checking the author's work. After all, the book is written in a unique formalistic straitjacket. In the fashion of the Oulipo school of constrained writing, Abish sets himself the task of telling a complete narrative according to a set of arbitrary linguistic rules. 

Specifically, each of his chapters will only allow words beginning with certain letters of the alphabet. The first chapter allows words beginning with "a," the second with "a" and "b," the third with "a," "b," and "c," and on through the alphabet. Once Abish gets to the "Z" chapters therefore (and there are two of them)—he can use words beginning with any letter. Then he proceeds to work his way backwards—eliminating words starting with each letter in reverse alphabetical order, until he is back to only "a" again. 

Judges

 I've been listening to the Supreme Court's oral argument from yesterday in the dispute over Tennessee's ban on transgender medical care—more specifically, on hormone treatment and puberty blockers for minors—unless the minors are using these treatments to "appreciate" their sex assigned at birth. I was wholly persuaded by the plaintiffs' arguments in the case that there is no way to avoid the conclusion that the bill makes a classification by sex, and therefore at the very least should be subjected to intermediate scrutiny. After all, the bill does not ban testosterone for males, but does so for females. 

Of course, the bills' proponents can retort that "there is no sex classification here, because each sex can receive hormone treatment consistent with its assigned sex." But this is like saying that racial segregation of drinking fountains was not a racial classification, because each race could use a drinking fountain—so long as it used the drinking fountain assigned to its race. Elizabeth Prelogar, arguing for the government, made this point eloquently. The essence of group classification, she observed, is to say that each group must do the thing assigned to its group. So, yes: Tennessee's law is making a sex-based classification.