To everyone’s profound nonsurprise, various pundits and public figures are attributing the UK riots to the old favorites: lack of parental discipline, and the degenerate culture of Those People. (You know; the ones who don’t need as high an SPF rating on their sunscreen.) In typically remote fashion, the Economist goes back through historical Kids These Days panics in recent history.

In talking about the “Negro music” aspect of this panic, dzik makes a spot-on observation about jazz that should be tattooed on the inner eyelids of all cultural snobs:

Of course, the real scandal of Miles, Sun Ra et al was that they took these “deplorable”, “tribal” roots and cultivated an art form capable of engaging with the European classical tradition and commanding respect on its own terms — that is the negro’s revenge and that is the negro’s revenge. To listen to the critics you’d think some people would have been less offended if they’d merely destroyed Western Civilization.

Damn straight.

 

Why people should stop whining and pay their goddamn taxes already, from one of those small business owners who the Fortune 500 like to use as a human shield.

h/t John Scalzi

 

(First, a note to the media: When you’re writing about a new law, post a link to the text of the new law. It shouldn’t be this hard to find. Kthx.)

What apparently led some of New York’s Republican lawmakers to support the Marriage Equality Act were the religious exemptions, protecting religious groups that object to same-sex marriage. This is one of the most common scare tactics raised by opponents of same-sex marriage, and one of the most dishonest: the Establishment Clause absolutely protects religious groups from having to administer their rites in violation of their faith. Same-sex marriage rites are about civil, not religious, marriage.

The “religious” protections are therefore redundant at best; these protections already exist, and not merely in the area of same-sex marriage. The only useful purpose they serve is cover. Same-sex marriage proponents can assure those who don’t understand the Establishment Clause, and politicians with more conservative constituents can trumpet their protection of the sanctity of marriage. This is particularly true as the law has a poison pill; it states that a court cannot simply overturn part of the law, such as the religious exemptions, but has to decide on the law as an all-or-nothing deal. This uses same-sex marriage as a sort of human shield; try to force a church to rent its gazebo to a gay couple and risk eliminating same-sex marriage entirely.

(Interestingly, groups opposed to same-sex marriage also oppose “religious protection” laws. The ostensible reason is that they don’t want anything that even hints that SSM is okay. The real reason is that it takes away one of their favorite arguments; it’s a lot harder to lie to people and tell them their churches will have to marry gay couples when there’s a law explicitly saying that can’t happen.)

Outside of same-sex marriage,it’s obvious that if you don’t like a religion’s rules, you can shut up and go to a different church, or to City Hall. We would laugh at a couple suing the Catholic Church because a priest refused to perform a marriage ceremony for two Protestants, or for a divorced Catholic seeking to marry a Buddhist. So would the courts. Yet even though there are likely far more interfaith and ‘rulebreaking’ couples who would like to marry than same-sex couples, neither churches nor lawmakers seem particularly concerned about protecting the sanctity of their religious practices.

Yet this seems unfair to religious groups. The Marriage Equality Act spells out quite clearly that it offers protections from civil actions to religious groups that object to same-sex marriage. But most religions have greater limitations on who can marry than “one man and one woman”. Where is the protection for faiths that prohibit interracial marriage? Why is there no protection for a church that refuses to rent “facilities” to interfaith couples? Why does the law exempt a rabbi refusing to marry a woman to a woman, but doesn’t protect a rabbi refusing to marry a Jew to a Gentile?

Obviously these are rhetorical questions; the reason is bigotry. Opponents of same-sex marriage simply don’t feel the same revulsion toward interfaith or interracial couples. And there’s a strong sense, among the less-zealous, that while a church may decline to marry such couples, that actually condemning those marriage is wrongheaded and, perhaps, even bigoted and unfair.

I look forward to the day when the majority recognizes that trying to stop same-sex couples from marrying at all is also bigoted and unfair.

 

(Cross-posted at Alas, A Blog. Thanks Amp!)

Is it really possible for a state to preserve its laws against same-sex marriage, limiting the institution to one man and one woman, in the face of a challenge claiming such laws are discriminatory? As state after state has those laws overturned as unconstitutional, is there no possible way for a state that doesn’t want same-sex marriage to avoid the long arm of the law?

Sure is. All the state has to do is bring back traditional marriage, and the family law that goes with it. To defend opposite-sex-only marriage laws, a state must articulate a valid secular purpose for those laws, and traditional family law is the only way to do it.

Continue reading »

 

To nobody’s surprise, the anti-same-sex marriage contingent’s attempt to retroactively recuse Judge Walker was crushed like an ugly, ugly bug today. And in less than 24 hours. You know how hard it is to get a judge to rule that fast? I, for one, am flush with envy.

There wasn’t anything particularly innovative about this tactic; defense firms use it all the time. Find out that the judge has some vague possible reason that could be inflated into bias, but hold it back in case you lose, at which point you pretend you just found out about it and want a do-over.  It almost never works, because judges are presumed impartial and there has to be a very clear, and very direct, showing that the judge got something out of the ruling.

Of course, it did make for some entertaining oral argument, and by “entertaining” I mean “I can’t believe these bozos thought they had an argument.”

Jun 122011
 

My preorder of Nick Mamatas’s new book on writing, Starve Better: Surviving the Endless Horror of the Writing Life, showed up this week, bearing the dedication “To a future former bestseller”, which in my opinion was pretty much worth the price of the book. But that aside, this is not your average how-to-be-a-rich-and-famous-writer book and is exceptionally informative.

First, because if you are at all familiar with Mamatas and his writing style, you know that he’s blunt, opinionated and not given to telling people what they want to hear. This can be annoying if he in fact tells you something you’d rather not hear, but is very refreshing if you’ve ever gotten the feeling that vague, happyish advice about writing was perhaps not entirely truthful.

For example, here’s Mamatas on the belief that only a select few can actually make a full-time living as a writer:

It is true that only a very few writers do nothing but write; it is not true that they must have another job. Writers choose to have other jobs rather than live humbly. This brings us to the first hidden assumption involved in the question: writing isn’t a job, it is a middle-class profession that should earn the practitioner both petit-bourgeois status and a comfortable income.

A significant fraction of writers who have a day job or a side gig as a teacher could live on their writing; they just don’t want to, as it would mean a smaller house, a less pleasant neighborhood, fewer vacations, or less (perhaps even no) health insurance. That’s an entirely valid choice, of course. Nobody gets any artiste point for eating beans and living in a garret. But wanting to live comfortably is not the same as being unable to live on one’s writing.

Second, because the book is not (as most writing advice tends to be) focused on Writing That Novel, but instead focused on writing short stories and non-fiction articles. Shorter pieces can be finished faster, are easier to market and most importantly, bring in money faster; in the time it takes to write a single novel the writer can most likely produce and sell many shorter works, and possibly even sell them. A hundred dollars today to keep the lights on is better than a theoretical six-figure advance years from now.

Mamatas also talks about work that is profitable, but which most people who want to be writers likely wouldn’t think about or want any part of, unless they were driven by money, like writing term papers (very lucrative, apparently, and the chapter on this work has some exceptional insights into the market; no, the customers are not all bored overprivileged Ivy League kids who’d rather not waste precious kegger time on a term paper). He also warns away from markets that seem like a good idea but aren’t, like content mills.

The only disappointment was the chapter on POD and vanity publishers, which is admittedly many years out of date. It would have been interesting to see an updated take on new incarnations like Smashwords and Lulu.com, even though the underlying structure probably hasn’t changed enormously.

Highly recommended for anyone who would actually like to write and sell their writing. Not recommended for anyone who just wants to sigh about the novel they’re going to write “someday” or whose entire writing output consists of a couple of stories that got shelved after Asimov’s rejected them.

Jun 122011
 

Apparently figuring that “gay man against gays” is a man-bites-dog article no editor can resist, Jonathan Soroff writes a facile article about why there shouldn’t be same-sex marriage. If you’d rather not wade through this tripe, the arguments boil down this:

1) My family won’t stop nagging me to marry my boyfriend!

2) Marriage is a man and a woman. It just is, all right? Plus, babies.

3) Let’s just not use the M-word, and then straights will give us all the exact same rights and everything will be wine and roses. We can even call it something stupid, like “floogle”.  Then we will totally fly under the radar!

4) Did I mention that my family won’t stop nagging me to get married? I hope you’re reading this, Mr. Would-Be-Father-In-Law.

I trust I don’t have to explain why points 1 and 4 are stupid.

Point 2 is a tautology: marriage has always been a man and a woman because marriage has always been a man and a woman. It’s also, until quite recently (less than half a century) been an institution where the wife was largely the husband’s property, in law and in fact, and one where childbearing was central and the lack thereof a reason to forbid or end a marriage. Funnily, Soroff, like his straight counterparts on the anti-same-sex marriage reservation, seem to skip over that part.  (Not that they are all opposed to the traditional model, of course. But it isn’t good PR to suggest that America should return to the good old days where a woman couldn’t hold property in her own name without her husband’s consent.)

Point 3 is one Soroff doesn’t argue much, probably because he has some inkling of how ignorant he is of the fact that marriage is, like, laws and stuff. And in the law, words have meaning. Laws are also very complicated, being a confusing overlay of federal and individual state laws. It is literally impossible for the President to issue a proclamation saying “From now on, every law everywhere that says ‘marriage’ also includes civil unions.”  Individual states might have a little issue with that, and they would be in the right to do so. And anyone could challenge this proclamation by saying that a particular law contemplated, and depends on, the ‘traditional’ view of marriage and can’t possible be extended to anything else.

The easiest, and obvious, way to expand the rights and responsibilities of marriage is to allow same-sex couples to marry, too. But I guess that allowing same-sex couples to have full civil rights is not nearly as important as getting Soroff’s family to stop nagging him about the wedding.

 

Twitter is afire with the #YAsaves hashtag and various young-adult fiction authors (and readers) angry about the latest old-fogey rant to fill a few lonely column inches before a deadline; this time, a Wall Street Journal book reviewer is determined to prove that the boys on the editorial page don’t hold that newspaper’s monopoly on stupid.

Meghan Cox Gurdon, a former conservative columnist for the National Review and the Washington Examiner, somehow managed to slither her way into a berth reviewing children’s books for the WSJ.  Predictably, her complaint is that YA fiction these days is just awful and ugly and brutal, not like the gentle, sun-touched fiction for teenagers of our own youth.

Which, setting aside the pearl-clutching, is really where I stopped. Our youth? Yes, you heard that right; as with everything else worthy in life, children’s literature was destroyed by those awful 1960s, and children’s literature turned to the Dark Side forty years ago. Apparently Gurdon’s outrage has affected her math skills; the “46-year-old mother of three” she fusses over in her opening paragraph would have barely been in kindergarten in 1967, and would have been exposed to that “dark” YA literature in her own teenage years. As would all, if not most, of Generation X. You know, the people who are now getting middle-aged and raising kids and thus supposedly having to worry about the terrible YA literature that awaits our young’uns, and the same people who grew up with that “dark” fiction of the terrible post-1960s lurking in the bookstores.

If Gurdon’s column were factual, it would be trivial to point out that there is plenty of YA fiction that isn’t “dark”, and is a hell of a lot better than some of the stuff we had available as kids; I’d have loved to have Leviathan or Zoe’s Tale or White Cat to read when I was a teenager, and none of those are exactly on the level of Go Ask Alice as far as “dark” fiction went.

But it’s not. She’s simply regurgitating a pearl-clutching rant about Kids These Days and how much better things were in the innocent days of our own youth, and throwing on a steaming sprinkle of conservative ranting about how the culture imploded once those goddamn hippies showed up. Which is a pity, because it seems like even the Twilight books would be a refreshing breath of air for kids otherwise stuck listening to their mom rant about the culture wars.

 

Interesting discussion over at Ta-Nehisi Coates’s blog about V.S. Naipaul, and how an artist being a colossal asshat impacts on how, and whether, one reads their work.

One argument that has popped up, and which I’ve seen elsewhere, is the claim that the value of the work should be divorced from the artist; that you don’t judge the value of a book on whether the person who wrote it is a nitwit in real life. Ursula LeGuin once wrote that one should never meet the artist, because you’ll find out that the author of the great work of fiction that you cried and read to tatters is actually a bad-smelling weirdo in a tinfoil hat.

And to a point, this is true. Whether a book speaks to you doesn’t have anything to do with the subjective views of the author on, say, the merit of price controls for tungsten.

But this viewpoint is somewhat blind to the degree to which an author’s beliefs and views affect the work. At the obvious end of the spectrum you get Atlas Shrugged or Ecotopia – polemics where the characters and plot are ideological sockpuppets, political Mary Sues. But less obviously, there are plenty of books where the author’s personality and politics actually diminish the book. Not because the author doesn’t cater to one’s own political prejudices, but because they actually warp the course of the story. The plot becomes a lecture. A scene or a character appears and the reader thinks “aha, this is just like that guy in the author’s previous novel”. And it takes us out of the story, reminding us that we’re actually just reading something made up, and worse, made up by a writer who has a particular tic they can’t keep out of their writing. I don’t want to think “okay, this is the Sexy Nordic Blonde who shows up in all of his novels,” instead of seeing her as a real, three-dimensional character; I don’t want to have a story broken by the villain being a conservative strawman who’s an obvious stand-in for the author’s political enemies. It stops being a good work by a writer who happens to be a jerk in real life, and starts being an intrusion of the jerk into the writing, which isn’t so good anymore. The only thing worse than breaking the fourth wall is having it knocked down by a creep.

Then there’s the separate issue of supporting the artist. Assume that the only problem with a book is that the person who wrote it is an ass: do I really want my money going to keep him in hookers and blow? If the author is long dead, that’s hardly an issue – you can cheerfully buy as much T.S. Elliott as you like without worrying that your money goes to anti-Semitic causes – but when an author is very much living, how do you balance the fairness of paying an artist for his work versus the distate for giving money to someone loathsome? Stealing their work is clearly wrong, and checking it out of a library or buying it used is certainly quite legitimate, but at some point it’s still some variety of “I want to enjoy this work but I don’t want the author to get any money for that”. And I’m still mulling over to what degree that is fair, even if it’s legal.

 

I’m still kind of absorbing the news of bin Laden’s death, and I doubt I have anything profound to add.

So I’ll add something shallow:

While you’re celebrating tonight, an entertaining party game is “Write __________’s Column Tomorrow”, where ____________ is your favorite chattering-class right-winger. They have to write something bad about Obama, because he’s an uppity a Democrat and not the President they wanted, but he got bin Laden! And then there’s the late-night announcement. You can just see them, sleepy and blinking, huddled over their gin-and-tonic or their expensive Scotch, staring at the monitor and hoping the words will come.

If I were more of a gambler I’d start a betting pool on the range from “grumble gah good job now stop doing everything else wrong” to “all credit for this goes to the previous administration” with some conspiracy-theories about PICS OR IT DIDN’T HAPPEN/THAT LOOKS SHOPPED throw in around the fringes.

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