Jimmy Carter’s Funeral and the Postmodern World

The photo you see here has been making the rounds of the leftie press of late.  It shows the VIPs—Joe and Jill Biden, Kamala Harris and Doug Emhoff, Bill and Hillary Clinton, George and Barbara Bush, Barack Obama, Donald and Melania Trump, Al Gore, and Mike and Karen Pence—as Jimmy Carter’s coffin is carried past them at yesterday’s funeral service.

Why did Curmie specify the leftie press?  Look at Donald Trump.  His hand isn’t on his heart, but it appears to be on what a friend of Curmie described in a Facebook post as “his prodigious gut.”  Mr. Trump is not exactly renowned for his respect for literally anyone outside his inner circle, so the photo seems to play into his pattern of hubristic petulance.  But is that interpretation accurate?  Perhaps, but Curmie has his doubts.

Notice that Mike Pence’s, Bill Clinton’s and Barack Obama’s hands are also a little lower than heart-high.  That suggests at least the possibility that at the instant the photo was taken, Trump was just a little later than the others to raise his hand or a little sooner to lower it.  (We can’t be sure exactly when this still was taken.)  If that’s the case, then Trump falls well short of being sinister in this instance.  Curmie has sought in vain to find video footage that would either confirm or deny his suspicions.

Certainly the leftie press is not above taking a cheap shot (more on that, and why Curmie believes they contributed significantly to Trump’s victory in a later post… probably).  Similarly, Donald Trump is unquestionably the politician least willing to adhere to normative practices of civility.  We’re left, then, with a question of interpretation, and it’s unsurprising that a photograph, something that might have a claim to being called an artwork, is at the center.

In modernist art, the artist would create and then inscribe meaning into the work, and the reader (the term is used in this context to include spectators, auditors, et al.) would ferret it out.  In the postmodern world, however, the roles change.  The artist no longer creates meaning, but rather catalyzes it; meaning is created by the reader, and therefore is different for each receiver.  This can be a function of personality, political perspective, or a host of other variables.

Postmodern artworks often bombard the reader with multiple simultaneous images, enough to prevent the complete reception of all of them, and perhaps even to the de facto exclusion of one or more.  Does it matter, for instance, that several of the people pictured above appear to have their eyes closed?  Perhaps.  And, if so, what does it mean?  The answers to those questions, Gentle Reader, are likely to tell us more about ourselves than about the folks in the photo.

This idea has, of course, appeared in countless works of art, from Akira Kurosawa’s “Rashōmon” to Simon & Garfunkel’s “The Boxer.”  As the latter would have it, “a man hears what he wants to hear and disregards the rest.”  This, of course, is very much a function of confirmation bias: you despise Trump, so the photo proves that he was being disrespectful to the deceased at a funeral; you distrust the media, so they’re taking an instant in time out of context to further an agenda unrelated to truth-telling.

Curmie, of course, fits into both categories, so he’s particularly intrigued by the mystery.  Yes, he has a working hypothesis, but that’s it.  Curmie suspects that a lot of people—too many by far—will have made up their minds about the photo’s significance almost immediately. 

That tells us a fair amount about why the nation is as fractured as it is.  We (well, not Curmie, but you know what I mean) just elected the most divisive political figure of Curmie’s lifetime.  This recent election was decided more negatively than any other: millions upon millions of voters chose the President-elect based not on who he is, but on who he isn’t.  (A lot of people voted for Kamala Harris using the same logic.)

Someone is going to have to bring our perspectives together for the betterment of the citizenry, not just of “our side.”  It won’t be Donald Trump or J.D. Vance or Chuck Schumer, and it sure as hell won’t be Elon Musk.  Richard Foreman, the auteur and impresario whose recent passing affected Curmie more than he thought it would, is desperately needed right now.  He wouldn’t have made us all see the same thing, but he’d at least have reassured us that it was okay that we didn’t.

There Is No Job 3

 

There are other things to write about today.  There is nothing else to write about today.

For the second time in this brief New Year, one of our greatest cities is under attack.  Last week, it was New Orleans; now it’s Los Angeles.  Curmie isn’t going to pretend that there aren’t other issues, other crises, out there… but right now the fires around Los Angeles are the story.

Curmie has spent little time in that area—roughly 6/100 of 1% of his life—but, of course, he has numerous friends there.  As might be expected from his line of work, Curmie knows colleagues at area universities, former classmates and students, and of course folks in a totally different profession who just happen to be located in that particular urban area instead of in Pittsburgh or Atlanta or wherever.

One of those friends recently posted on Facebook that she and her partner “are safe and evacuated.  EXHAUSTED keeping up with these fires. It’s like WHACK-A-MOLE.”  [Edit: here’s part of a more recent post by a different friend: “Everyone is on edge. No one really feels safe because just when you take a breath, another fire randomly appears. We’re all in shock. We can’t let our guard down. It’s not over.”]  That is the issue here.  Not just the destruction of property, not just loss of life (although that’s obviously the worst part of the ordeal)—the exhaustion, the not knowing, the stress, and the loss.

Naturally, as has been the case with every headline-making tragedy in recent years, the Manchurian Cantaloupe has taken every opportunity to politicize the event, blaming everyone from Governor Gavin Newsom to the firefighters themselves for failing to anticipate a literally unprecedented catastrophe.  Virtually no rain in months, coupled with hurricane force winds… that’s a recipe for disaster if some idiot drops a lit cigarette or whatever (we know the fire started in a residential area, not that unraked forest we heard a lot about last time).  Curmie here antiphrastically avoids using the phrase “climate change.”

And, of course, we heard nothing about how the Republican governors of those states battered by hurricanes this fall should have been better prepared.  No, there was Trump, interfering in the relief effort and suggesting that FEMA workers were the enemy. 

Of course, our less than beloved President-elect has a somewhat less than amicable relationship with the truth.  Curmie rather suspects that if Mr. Trump were to utter an entire paragraph that was both coherent and honest, the result would be something akin to the Wicked Witch of the West being doused with water.  Here’s a rebuttal from Brian Krassenstein, who at least apparently knows more about what’s going on than either Trump or Curmie do:

After millions of views spreading lies about the Palisades firefighters lacking water because of regulations, the boring truth comes late like usual and wont be shared. Here it is: 

1 - Reservoirs and water tanks were at normal levels and completely full before the fire. 

2 - All 114 city water supply tanks were fully stocked pre-fire. 

3 - A 15-hour surge at four times normal demand reduced water pressure. 

4 - High demand at lower elevations slowed refilling tanks at higher elevations. 

5 - This unprecedented fire was fueled by 8 months of no rain and 85 MPH winds. Water is being brought in continuously. 

6 - Even if, like Trump claimed, the protection of the Delta Smelt caused over regulation by California, it's the FEDERAL Endangered Species Act that requires the protection of endangered species like the Delta Smelt and their habitats, not Gavin Newsom or California.

Here's the thing.  Perhaps, perhaps, there is a grain of truth in Trump’s allegations (insert stopped clock analogy here).  Apparently many insurance companies recently (before this situation, but recently) dropped coverage in the area because of the high risks involved.  If they could anticipate disaster, it’s not unreasonable to suggest that state officials should have been able to do so, as well.  Of course, Curmie’s own homeowner’s policy was cancelled a few years ago because… wait for it… there were apparently newly-discovered 30-year-old trees on the property.  (They also sent out an “inspector” who claimed to have found “mildew”; it was dirt.)

Irrespective of the legitimacy of the critique, however, the time for that reflection has not yet arrived.  Job 1: get people to safety.  Job 2: do what we can to protect property—homes, businesses, etc.  As of now, as the title of this piece suggests: There Is No Job 3.   

Curmie was about to say that all he can do, Gentle Reader, is to send good and healing thoughts to those whose lives and property are in danger, and thanks and admiration to the fire-fighters and others who are struggling to limit the damage.  That isn’t quite the case, though.  He can also help a little: here’s a link to make a donation to the cause.  Curmie contributed; you know Donald Trump won’t.  We can’t even get him to STFU.

Three Stories from the OnStageBlog, Part 2: The Professional World

Curmie is finally getting to write the second half of his two-parter on stories from the OnStageBlog.  This one involves the casting of the musical Elf at Broadway at Music Circus in Sacramento.  OnStageBlog’s founder Chris Peterson often gets what Curmie’s grad school mentor would call “foam-flecked,” and his editorial here is no exception.  But he does have a point.  Sort of.

The company came under criticism when they announced the cast list for Elf; although a number of the leads were non-white, the entire chorus (seen above) looks pretty vanilla, i.e., white-passing. Actress (or is she the “social media manager for major hotel brands”?) Victoria Price is one of those who led the charge, pointing to the difference between the Broadway ensemble and the one in Sacramento, and noting that any comments critical of the casting were being deleted.  (Curmie assumes she’s telling the truth about this.)

Tony nominee Amber Imam joined the fray, writing that Price’s criticism of both the casting and the removal of negative comments was “absolutely right.  A show that takes place in NEW YORK CITY cannot… CAN NOT have an ensemble that LOOKS LIKE THIS!!!  Do better.  Have you learned nothing?????”

The company’s CEO Scott Klier issued a response that made the situation much, much worse: “cover-up worse than the crime” worse.  Here’s part of it:

Inclusivity has been and remains my casting and staffing goal for every production.

I fell short of that goal for ELF. There is an uncomfortable truth here: Our industry as a whole has largely failed to attract, train and foster the artists necessary to meet today's demand, and I fear this conversation will continue until it does. It will unfortunately take time. The painful reality of ELF’s casting process was that both the casting submissions and audition attendance revealed few candidates of color and, while those few were undoubtedly talented, they did not meet the dance, music and acting criteria set by our team.

Hoo boy… Claiming inclusivity as a “goal” and then going 0-for-15 at fulfilling it?  Blaming other people while admitting the decision was yours?  Admitting there’s a “demand” and then ignoring it? 

Price responds that the standard for Broadway is surely higher, but they managed to assemble a significantly more diverse cast.  True, but one might also note that the talent base is considerably both wider and deeper in New York than in Sacramento, which is not exactly the first city one thinks of when contemplating the American theatre.

Price then accuses Klier of “writing lies,” and asserts that “we will continue to be here and not just be here, but excelling in everything we do bc (as you basically said in your response) we are expected to be TWICE as good as our white counterparts to even be SEEN.”

Ultimately, she launches into a rather odd commentary, complaining about tokenization.  So having one black ensemble member is somehow a bad thing… even worse than having none, perhaps?  I don’t get it.

So let’s talk about casting decisions.  They’re sometimes extremely complex; other times they’re easy.  There are some shows that require actors of a particular race to play a particular role.  When Curmie directed “Master Harold… and the boys” a few years ago, Hally had to be white, and Sam and Willie had to be black.  Full stop; no discussion.  When he did Trojan Barbie, the male roles had to be played by two blacks, one white, and one Latino; the women’s roles were much more flexible in terms of race.  The majority of roles in most plays, of course, can be played by actors regardless of demographics, with the only considerations being things like blood relatives being of the same race (and that’s only true in realism).

Is casting the actors the director (or producer, or whoever is making the decisions) honestly believes are the best available an ethical strategy?  Of course it is.  Is attempting to employ a cast that represents the time and place in which the play is set reasonable?  Again, of course.  In this approach, it doesn’t matter which actors are white or BIPOC, only that some of the latter are included somewhere.  If you’re going to claim diversity as a goal, then an all-white chorus is probably a bad idea.  The key word here just might be “probably,” however. 

Often—by no means always, but often—there are two actors who are essentially equal.  For his last twenty-something shows, Curmie was always casting at the same time as a colleague, and we were discouraged from casting the same actor twice in a semester.  Unsurprisingly, we’d often want the same actors, leading to negotiations: “you can have Actor X if I can have Actor Y.”  But I remember one time in particular when I said “I need one of these four actors.  You can have whichever three you want, but I get one of the four.”  In this sort of toss-up situation, a director who doesn’t need to accommodate a colleague might reasonably think, “why not make a choice that adds to the diversity of the cast?”  

That said, sometimes one actor is just flat-out better than another in auditions.  A director would be remarkably stupid not to cast that person.  The thing is, there’s no way of knowing whether the actors cast in the Elf ensemble were clearly the best, or whether Klier’s interest in inclusion extends no further than a marketing blurb. 

Is there still some racism in the business?  Of course, there is.  Does Klier have a spotless reputation in terms of providing opportunities for non-white actors?  No.  But is Price’s claim about black actors having to be twice as good to even get noticed a gross exaggeration?  Yes, at least in terms of the industry at large.  And we might reasonably suspect that she’d be less insistent on an authentic depiction of the people who’d be in a particular place at a particular time if a production of Fiddler on the Roof had a couple of black folks in a small town in Tsarist Russia.

Curmie recalls overhearing one actress telling her friends that the reason I hadn’t given her a callback was because she was black.  I called back ten women; three were black.  She didn’t make it four because… wait for it… her audition wasn’t very good.  And, as Curmie wrote a couple of years ago, his “own experience as a director has included both casting BIPOC actors in roles obviously first played by whites and ending up with all white actors when he went into auditions thinking he’d almost certainly get a multi-racial cast. It works out how it works out.”

In other words, the original casting decisions might have been—as opposed to were—inappropriately exclusionary to non-white performers; the fact that there was some diversity in the leads mitigates but does not squelch the criticism with respect to the ensemble.  Some of Price’s arguments were legitimate; others were overblown at best.  Klier’s response to the controversy was sufficiently incompetent that he made matters considerably worse.  It’s rather a mess; Curmie suspects that the one objectively true statement in all of this is Klier’s claim that a reasonable resolution “will unfortunately take time.”

The good news, such as it is, is that the production got a positive review on the Broadway World site.  But there is not a word about the ensemble; indeed the list of principals is said to “round out the incredible cast.”

<Sigh.>

What the Hell Was ESPN Thinking?

There’s a lot of brouhaha at the moment about ESPN’s coverage of yesterday’s Sugar Bowl game in New Orleans, or rather of the pre-game.  The game was postponed for a day in the wake of the horrific events of early New Year’s morning only a few blocks from the Superdome, where the game was played.

So why is the photo for this piece of a baseball game?  Allow me to explain.  Curmie has been a fan of the New York Mets since 1962, the year of the team’s inception.  I can tell you that the biggest home run in Mets history had nothing to do with their World Series championship years of 1969 or 1986.  It was Mike Piazza’s two-run, come-from-behind, homer in the bottom of the 8^th inning in Shea Stadium on September 21, 2001. 

It was the game-winning hit and it came against the best team in the division, the arch-rival Atlanta Braves.  Vastly more importantly, it was during the first major league game to be played in New York after the attacks of 9/11.  And, for the first time in a week and a half, the locals had something to be happy about.  That night, anyone who wasn’t a Braves fan per se (and probably a fair number who were) needed that home run.  Not just Mets fans.  Not just New Yorkers.  Americans.

We’d been told the everything was going to be OK, but we needed more.  David Letterman going back on the air helped, but everything was still somber.  The Bush jokes that would cement the resolve—you don’t joke about the President if your country is in crisis—were to come later.  But first, there was Mike Piazza.  Sometimes, sports matter.

In the winter of 1980, Curmie lived in a small town in rural Kentucky.  He remembers watching the “Miracle on Ice” Olympic hockey game on the TV.  After the incredible upset of the powerhouse Soviet team by a bunch of American college kids, after the most famous line of Al Michaels’s career—“Do you believe in miracles?  Yes!”—there was a lot of noise outside, loud enough to be not merely audible but intrusive in Curmie’s second-floor apartment.

Outside, there was a string of cars with horns blaring; their windows were down (even in Kentucky it can get a little nippy in February), with a bunch of mostly teenagers leaning out and chanting “USA!  USA! USA!”  I’m willing to bet that Curmie was one of fewer than a dozen people in the entire town who’d ever seen a hockey game live, but here were these kids who didn’t know a poke check from a blue line getting excited about the Olympic semi-final.

In the midst of the Iranian hostage situation, with the country only showing the slightest signs of emerging from the energy crisis (is it any wonder the incumbent President was routed in the election a few months later?), we—again, all of us—needed something to grab ahold of, something to suggest that we’d weather the storm.

There have, of course, been other moments that transcended sports: Jesse Owens dominating at the Berlin Olympics in 1936, Joe Louis knocking out Max Schmeling in the first round, Billy Miles appearing from nowhere to win the 10,000m in the Tokyo Olympics, we might even add Spiff Sedrick’s improbable sprint to glory in the women’s rugby 7s in this year’s Olympics.

But this year’s Sugar Bowl was most like that baseball game in September of 2001: what made it special wasn’t who won, or what political statement could be wrangled out of the victory, but the mere fact that the game went on was a sign of determination and perhaps a little bit of defiance.  If you’re a Georgia fan, you’re disappointed that your team lost, but you were reminded before kickoff that there are more important things than football games. 

Well, you were reminded of that fact if you were at the game in person.  You’d have less of that perspective if you… you know… watched on TV.  ESPN, which had exclusive broadcasting rights, cut away from the moment of silence, from the Star-Spangled Banner, and by extension from the “USA!  USA!  USA!” chants at the end of the anthem.  Needless to say, a lot of folks on the political right attributed the obviously intentional omission to anti-American “wokeness.”  (Here’s one example.) Whether the decision was in fact a product of political orientation or garden-variety incompetence may be up for discussion, but this has to rank among the biggest blunders the network has ever committed… yes, even worse than hiring Bill Walton, and that’s saying rather a lot.

Please remember, Gentle Reader, that this is Curmie saying this: the guy who decried the “unrelenting jingoism” of NBC’s Olympic coverage in 2012, and the “ultra-nationalistic bleatings of Peyton Manning” at this year’s opening ceremonies.  Curmie is no fan of pretending that “nationalism” and “patriotism” are synonyms.

Except.

The attack in New Orleans was a body blow to the American psyche.  It didn’t knock us out, but it staggered us for a moment.  (Curmie mentioned last time out  that there was a “what if” scenario for him personally on this one.)  There’s a difference between moving forward despite what happened the previous morning and pretending that those events hadn’t occurred.

We, as a nation, need to proceed with as close to a normal routine as is possible.  That’s obviously impossible for those most directly affected, but I was pleased to see that our favorite New Orleans restaurant re-opened last night after closing for New Year’s Day.  And the game went on: with heightened security, but it went on.

Everyone—players, coaches, officials, television crews, concessionaires, fans—who showed up for the game a day after it was scheduled to be played had to have been at least a little apprehensive.  But there they were.  They got a moment to ponder the essential truth that someone who cheers for the other team isn’t the enemy: assholes who intentionally plow into pedestrians are.  Television viewers didn’t get that moment.  And whereas Curmie was unimpressed with the rendering of the national anthem, on this particular occasion he’d have liked to have seen it, especially given the image you see here of New Orleans mayor LaToya Cantrell.

The crowd’s chanting “USA!  USA!  USA!” at the end was unscripted, but that doesn’t mean it shouldn’t have been anticipated.  ESPN sideline reporter Laura Rutledge was widely and appropriately praised for her reporting of events in New Orleans from the initial attack all the way through the game.  She could have told the bosses what to expect, but perhaps she was fooled into thinking there was a decision-maker with more savvy than a dead flounder.

The chant may have been trite, it may have been was certainly eminently predictable, but it was above all else a communal monodigital salute to those who would attack us.  Ultimately, we’re family.  We can disagree, loudly and stridently, about everything from politics to what team to cheer for, but if you come at any of us just for being us, you’ll have to deal with all of us.  We are bloodied but unbowed.  We are legion.  Messing with us is contra-indicated.

(BTW, don't ask why that one paragraph is formatted differently than all the others.  Blogspot is inscrutable.)

Donald Trump Shows Why He’s Unfit for Office (Again)

Like millions of other Americans, Curmie learned this morning of the horrific, presumably terroristic, attack in New Orleans.  Obviously, we all grieve for the casualties and sympathize with their loved ones.  As this essay is being written, there are still lots of unanswered questions, but we do know some things with reasonable certainty.

Gentle Reader, you will notice the modifiers in the previous paragraph: “presumably,” “some,” “reasonable.”  Those words are there because Curmie really doesn’t want to claim as fact something that isn’t true.  If only the President-elect would be as honest circumspect… but then, he never was.

True, no intelligent person believes that Donald Trump is anything but a narcissistic, mendacious, blowhard.  His post on the ironically titled Truth Social is presented here in what Curmie presumes to be its entirety (you didn’t think I’d visit that site to check, did you, Gentle Reader?):

When I said that the criminals coming in are far worse than the criminals we have in our country, that statement was constantly refuted by Democrats and the Fake News Media, but it turned out to be true. The crime rate in our country is at a level that nobody has ever seen before. Our hearts are with all of the innocent victims and their loved ones, including the brave officers of the New Orleans Police Department. The Trump Administration will fully support the City of New Orleans as they investigate and recover from this act of pure evil!

The first thing to notice is that whereas any normal person would lead with his sympathy for the victims, Trump always opens with political posturing; basic humanity is an afterthought, if it shows up at all.  Even if the conjecture about “criminals coming in” were accurate, the statement would mark Trump as an absolute asshole.  But we knew that, of course.  What we didn’t know but certainly should have suspected as a possibility is the fact that Trump’s bluster was 100% wrong on the facts… and that the so-called leftist media scrupulously avoided highlighting his bullshit. 

Yes, Newsweek does mention in paragraph five (!) that the suspect, Shamsud Din Jabbar, was a Texas-born American citizen.  Oh, and he was apparently a US Army vet.  Ah, but the headline proclaims only that “Donald Trump Says New Orleans Terror Attack Proves He Was Right.”  Anyone not reading past the first two sub-heads might be led to believe that Trump was spewing something other than his usual brand of xenophobic drivel.  Well, anyone who has been asleep for the last dozen years or so might be so tempted.  Those of us branded as “Trump deranged” by the MAGA apologists, of course, knew better were prepared to disbelieve a serial prevaricator.

To be fair, The New York Times did (finally) headline their story as “Trump Falsely Suggested New Orleans Suspect Was an Immigrant.”  Of course, the MAGA crowd wouldn’t believe the NYT if they said NBA centers are tall.  But you can bet the ranch that the truth that Donald Trump yet again made a false allegation will be ignored by most and dismissed as either leftie propaganda or irrelevant by most of the rest.  Curmie, unlike Trump, doesn’t claim to be the sole source of truth, but he’s right about this one.

The discussion will (and should) focus on what could have been done differently and what can be done to prevent a recurrence.  The answer isn’t easy.  Better training for cops: needed, but not enough.  Stricter gun laws, even if none of the deaths were caused by shooting (the two wounded cops definitely were): useful, but not enough.  And no, smug asshole right-winger, no one is calling for tighter restrictions on rental trucks.  We need to recognize that we can’t solve every problem without creating worse ones, but we damned well better do a little creative thinking.

One side note: Curmie and Beloved Spouse are grateful for a friend who asked us to look after her cats while she spent the holidays in Maine with her partner.  We otherwise might well have tried to head to NOLA for New Year’s… and our go-to hotel is about 20 yards from where that truck crashed.  It was almost certainly one of the hotels evacuated by authorities.  Curmie is fine with missing that particular bit of excitement.