Kvetcher in the Rye

by Greg Palast

In the sixth grade, the Boys' Vice-Principal threatened to suspend me from school unless I stopped carrying around The Catcher in the Rye I think because it had the word "fuck" in it. Since the Boys' Vice-Principal hadn't read the book – and I don't think he'd ever read any book – he couldn't tell me why.

But Mrs. Gordon was cool. She let me keep the book at my desk and read it at recess as long as I kept a brown wrapper over the cover.

I think J.D. Salinger would have liked Mrs. Gordon. She wanted to save me from the world's vice-principals, the guys who wanted to train you in obedience to idiots and introduce you the adult world of fear and punishment. Mrs. Gordon wanted to protect the need of a child to run free.

That's, of course, how the word fuck got into Salinger's book. For the 5% of you who haven't read it, the main character of the book, Holden Caulfield, tries to erase the f-word off the wall of a New York City school. He doesn't want little kids like his sister Phoebe to see it, that somehow it would trigger an irreversible loss of her childhood innocence:

I thought Phoebe and all the other little kids would see it, and how they'd wonder what the hell it meant, and then finally some dirty kid would tell them—all cockeyed, naturally—what it meant, and how they'd all think about it and maybe even worry about it for a couple of days.

Which is where the title came from. Salinger's Caulfield, pushed to the edge of his own youth and directed to prepare himself for the job market, could see for himself only one career: as a catcher in the rye. He imagined a bunch of kids playing away happily in a rye field, but a field on a cliff's-edge. Every time a child, lost in their game, would drift toward the edge, Caulfield's job would be to catch them before they fell.

Any other job would just turn you into a "phony," that is, an adult. All adults were phonies, even the nice ones, who took jobs they hated, taught textbooks and catechisms they didn't believe and lived lives of self-inflicted disappointments, while pretending it was all OK. Then with phony grins, they'd demand that you join their painful parade of delusion and decay.

Nearly half a century after I covered up Salinger's book in a carefully folded brown wrapper, I thought I'd read it to my twins. They were now eleven, in the 6th grade.

But I couldn't. In his 1956 book, Salinger had railed against a post-war world of boys in school blazers trying to get to "first base" with their steady dates. America itself was an adolescent, and despite the police beatings of marchers in Alabama, despite the "drop, tuck and don't look at the flash!" drills we did weekly in Mrs. Gordon's class to prepare for the Russian nuclear attack, America was still weirdly, optimistically child-like.

We knew then that the world could only get better: we would go to the moon and eventually, vacation there. JFK announced the Alliance for Progress and poverty would end in Appalachia; and Paul McCartney wanted to hold our hand. Every nasty meanie, like the police in Selma, was met by a legion of victorious innocents led by Martin Luther King. So we all held hands in a circle while Pete Seeger strummed "We shall overcome." Everyone would get a scholarship; and we really, truly believed we would overcome.

Even the social critics – Allen Ginsberg, Lenny Bruce, Jack Kerouac – were just big, mischievous kids.

Yes, there were a bunch of old phonies like Joe McCarthy and the Boys' Vice-Principal, but their days were numbered.

Then we fell over the cliff.

A bullet through the skull replaced Kennedy with Nixon. We shall overcome was replaced with the vicious "Southern Strategy;" the Cold War exploded in hot jungles; then came the idiot wasteland of the regimes of Ford and Carter and Reagan and Clinton and Bushes, a degenerative march as the machine of America rusted and died.

And here we are today, begging for spare parts from China and my daughter glued to YouTube videos of Lady Ga-Ga's crotch, and my son slicing off a cop's head in Grand Theft Auto and a President, telegenic and painfully hollow, playing the lost and ineffectual shepherd over an electorate divided between the terrified and the greedy. In place of prophets, we are offered a caravan of kvetching clowns piling out of the Volkswagen on MSNBC.

There's no way to wipe the fuck off this smeared planet. I'm supposed to try. I'm an investigative reporter, meaning I have a professional commitment to the childish belief that if I shout loud enough, I can warn people away from the cliff's edge.

Well, it's better than a real job, but no less "phony," no less of a petty illusion.

I'm holding this book, the brown wrapper lost who the hell knows when, and I know it would just be laughable, inscrutably ancient to those wisened, worldly children of mine.

I've put it back on my shelf.

You stand on the cliff edge and there's no one left to catch.

———–

Politics

Bald Eagle Tired Of Everyone Just Assuming It Supports War

February 1, 2010 | Issue 46•05

Jerome David Salinger 1919-2010.

Greg Palast is the author of the New York Times bestsellers Armed Madhouse and The Best Democracy Money Can Buy, is a Nation Institute/Puffin Foundation Writing Fellow for investigative reporting. Sign up for Greg Palast's investigative reports at www.GregPalast.com.

THE OREGON WILDERNESS—Frustrated by the widely held assumption that he unequivocally endorses the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, a bald eagle said Monday that his thoughts on the conflicts were far more nuanced than many Americans might expect.

Speaking to reporters from his nest in the upper branches of a 175-foot ponderosa pine tree, the eagle explained that each member of his species was different and none should be taken for granted as a lockstep supporter of American military policy.

"I think World War II was justified, and I got behind the first Gulf War [in 1990]," said the bird, who has served as the national symbol of the United States since 1782. "But the recent war in Iraq, with its shifting rationale and poor planning, was clearly a huge mistake. Personally, I believe that these crucial, life-and-death matters deserve more honest and less politicized discussion than they get."

"I'm not a hawk or a dove," he added. "I'm an eagle."

The majestic bird of prey, who said he is not registered with any political party, admitted to having some ambivalence about the current mission in Afghanistan, lamenting that any argument one could make seemed to prompt an equally valid counterpoint.

"Sure, I understand the reasoning behind the latest troop surge," the eagle said regarding President Obama's plan to commit 30,000 additional soldiers to the region to combat the Taliban. "Can we allow that country to collapse and become an al-Qaeda safe haven again? That seems like a disastrous outcome to me, but at the same time, maybe our continued presence is just creating more terrorists in the long run. Plus, how can we work with someone as corrupt as [Afghan president] Hamid Karzai and still purport to be champions of democracy?"

"You see, these issues are not so cut and dried," continued the Haliaeetus leucocephalus specimen. "And yet, every time I try to explain myself from atop a flag pole or the middle of a baseball field, no one wants to listen. They just cheer and chant 'U.S.A.! U.S.A! U.S.A.!'"

Sources said the eagle then excused himself and launched into the air with a shrill "skree!" sound, returning three minutes later with a glistening fish in his talons.

"And another thing: We can't forget Pakistan," the eagle said as he used his hooked beak to tear at the flesh of the writhing rainbow trout. "We have to make sure that they're not so preoccupied with India that they neglect the terrorist threats within their own borders. Remember, Pakistan has nukes."

The eagle went on to tell reporters that, despite his attempts to individuate himself from the general public's perceptions of bald eagles, he could ultimately control his image only so much. He also admitted that he still had lingering resentment over the fact that someone had covertly photographed him crying on 9/11 and used the picture on a "Never Forget" dinner plate.

"I really hated being exploited like that," the eagle said. "Of course I cried on 9/11. Everyone did. But I guess that's the burden of being the symbol of a nation: People are going to use you in ways you don't always like. You step out of the nest to clear your head with a few minutes of soaring, and people automatically peg you as some kind of embodiment of American freedom worth killing and dying for."

"And, frankly, that's a little messed up," he added. "I'm just a bird."

Long debate stalls NM natural resources bill

By SUSAN MONTOYA BRYAN
Click here to find out more!

SANTA FE, N.M.

Opponents are lining up against a New Mexico bill that would allow the state natural resources trustee to pursue damages from polluters who have compromised groundwater or other natural resources.

From ranchers to rural electric cooperatives and the oil and gas industry, critics said the legislation's language goes too far and would essentially transfer power from the Legislature to the trustee, an unelected position without public oversight.

They also complain that numerous existing state and federal laws already protect air quality, water, wildlife and other natural resources.

"This is just another level of regulation in the state of New Mexico, which is already a difficult place to do business," said Sonia Phillips, a lobbyist who represents Xcel Energy Inc.

Dozens of people gathered in the House chamber Monday as a legislative committee considered the bill. The committee was forced to recess after more than two hours, promising to continue the debate Wednesday.

Rep. Brian Egoff, D-Santa Fe, the bill's sponsor, said the measure does not create any new regulations but would ensure New Mexico taxpayers aren't left paying for businesses that fail to take responsibility for damaging natural resources.

"What we're trying to do here is just make it clear that if somebody puts a bunch of horrible stuff in an aquifer we can get the money that we need to put the aquifer back the way it was," Egoff said.

The majority of companies operating in New Mexico would not be affected by the legislation because they follow the law, Egoff said. Only a small number are irresponsible but their actions pose a significant threat to the state's natural resources, he said.

Current law is ambiguous when it comes to spelling out what claims the natural resources trustee can make to get polluters to pay for damages. The bill makes clear what kind of lawsuits the trustee can file to recover funds that can be used for restoration projects, Egoff said.

Rep. Donald Bratton, R-Hobbs, said no one opposes protecting New Mexico's water supplies or the environment, but the bill's language is too broad and opens the door for the natural resources trustee to stomp on private property rights and go after residents for exhaling carbon dioxide or spraying their yard for bugs.

"It covers everything, whether it's the air we breathe, the ground we walk on or the water we consume or the vegetation we enjoy," he said.

Bratton acknowledged the bill's aim is not to spur a flood of lawsuits by the trustee. However, he said, "It's the unintended consequences I'm concerned about."

Egoff said the bill is still evolving and language can be changed to protect private property and better define what pollutants would allow the trustee to make a claim.

Environment Secretary Ron Curry, who is serving as the interim natural resources trustee, was joined by about a dozen people who testified on behalf of the bill.

"It's something that will benefit all New Mexicans," Curry said. "It's an effort to make whole what has been damaged or destroyed by the people who have been using it."

———-
The Jive Economy
By James Howard Kunstler
on February 1, 2010 7:22 AM

     What started out as a case of The Emperor's New Clothes now has America looking like the world's biggest nudist colony, with everyone in the long chain of power and authority admiring each other's splendid new (imagined) pimp suits. George W. Bush (remember him?) wasn't kidding when he discounted the function of objective reality in our national life, saying, "we make our own reality." This apparently hasn't changed much with a new chief at the top.
     A nice example popped up last week with the GDP (Gross Domestic Product) index for the fourth quarter of 2009. The equation affects to measure the growth in economic activity and this particular release imputed that the US economy had expanded at an annualized rate of 5.7 percent. Wow, impressive! We must be digging a new Panama Canal or something.
     It turned out to be based largely on some jive about inventory "investments" — meaning, I guess, that the Ronco Corporation has laid in 1.7 million Dial-O-Matic food slicers and Showtime Rotisseries in the expectation that American stock market investors will enter 2010 creaming off their mutual fund profits to spend wildly on every infomercial prompt beamed at them over the graveyard shift at Fox News.
     Memo to nation: we're not really growing, we're shrinking. Is this necessarily a bad thing? I dunno.  Unlike, say, the stockholders of Toll Brothers I'm not so sure that "housing starts" represents my idea of a healthy economy — since it really means we're destroying every cornfield and cow pasture left outside our cities, which will play havoc with our national life when the reality of our Wile E. Coyote agribusiness fiasco starts to hit home and we discover what cornfields and cow pastures were really all about in the first place.
     Likewise, the standard processors of news media go orgasmic when they announce car sales figures of 11 million units annualized, or something like that. Isn't that wonderful: more cars on the San Diego Freeway and the Cross Bronx Expressway. Ever larger parking requirements for the new WalMart. More trips-per-household to buy milk and Fruit Loops. Do you really think that more suburban sprawl makes this a better nation? When our soldiers bleed out in the sands of Central Asia, will their last thoughts be of the curb cut between the Best Buy and the Burger King?
     By the way, it is established fact that the GDP figure benefits from increases in medical services, meaning that the more obese, diabetic, two-pack-a-day cigarette smokers this country produces, the better off our economy is assumed to be. Bring on the Little Debbie Snack Cakes! Let's turn up the dial on hospital admissions!
    But as I said, our economy is not really expanding, it's contracting — and pretty swiftly. The question is how will we manage this contraction and what kind of nation do we become as this occurs.
     For the moment, we are a nation committed to sustaining the unsustainable, and because this is the case we invite grievous political mischief as it becomes ever more obvious that the populace is being swindled — and the populace becomes ever more ticked off about it. Thus, you get the Tea Bagger movement, and things like it, where the disenfranchised meld legitimate complaints with fantasies and conspiracy theories, and produce an incoherent agenda based on ideas like "keeping the government out of Medicare!" One can easily see a movement like this ramping up into full-bore corn-pone Naziism — and for a nice dramatic enactment of such a scenario I recommend my new three-act stage play Big Slide, which we've posted over at the podcast.
     The Republican resurgence now underway — or imagined to be, I'm not really sure — casts photogenic clods like Massachusetts's new senator Scott Brown as heralds of a new free market Golden Age, in which WalMart will profitably manage every moment of daily life from grocery shopping to banking to medical care to the mortuary (and perhaps even war).  Little thought has been allotted to exactly what the role of citizens might be in such a nirvana. I suppose we'd become an endless chain of $8-an-hour "greeter associates" — which is at least a step above being a national feedlot of polled Herefords. But I wouldn't want to be mistaken as a shill for the Democratic party, either, since the Obama team has opted for creating its own reality as much as its predecessor bunch did. The result will certainly be the election of countless maniacs to congress this fall, especially of the theocratic-despotic brand — creationists, alien abductees, economics professors from bible colleges, Sunbelt war hawks, Lyndon LaRouche acolytes, Nativists, Palinites, crusaders against the New World Order, anti-Bilderbergers… the whole appalling menu of thought-disorder cases now roiling in the breakdown lane of American history.
     They are our future, these yeast people and mudskippers, because the intelligent minority of this nation lacks the one thing that animates intelligence in the service of reality, and that is the courage to tell the truth. I suppose this is what galls so many former Obama boosters: that the "hope" vested in him would be enacted in truth-telling, which would lead to "change" in the choices we make about doing things. What we ended up with seems to be something like a false champion with a good line of talk. Mr. Obama may yet be pushed into a recognition of the reality he did not personally create, and this may occur as the US economy heads much more drastically south in the months ahead. Something similar might have been the case for Mr. Lincoln.  He might have coasted along through 1861 trying to sweet-talk Dixie — but the South Carolinians went apeshit on him from the get-go, and then there was no turning back from the ensuing conflagration.
     More probably, we'll be dragged kicking and screaming into an epochal contraction of economy, something the industrial world hasn't really seen before, something more severe even than the Great Depression we never stop chattering about (as though it was like The Hundred Years War). Instead of preparing for it intelligently by doing things like promoting small scale local farming, local networks of commerce, and rebuilt railroads (things, incidentally, which are within the powers of government to promote) we'll squander our dwindling capital and political resources fighting over the table scraps of the twentieth century. Life is tragic, history is merciless, and societies don't always make good collective choices. Visit Big Slide for a taste of what might be coming.

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