This article by Mike Lofgren has been generating much interest in the blogosphere, and with good reason, for there is a great deal of truth to it.

There is one problem I have with it, though. Lofgren thinks that a major reason for the Republican dominance is their use of language. He writes:

“Above all, [Democrats] do not understand language. Their initiatives are posed in impenetrable policy-speak: the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act. The what? – can anyone even remember it? No wonder the pejorative “Obamacare” won out. Contrast that with the Republicans’ Patriot Act. You’re a patriot, aren’t you? Does anyone at the GED level have a clue what a Stimulus Bill is supposed to be? Why didn’t the White House call it the Jobs Bill and keep pounding on that theme?” 

Maybe this is a factor. But I am skeptical, partly because I’ve heard many a Republican make precisely this same complaint about the Democrats–not politicians or pundits, but rank-and-file Republicans. They could be lying, of course, and Republicans do accuse the Democrats of things they themselves are guilty of. Still, I think Democrats overall are just as good at this kind of thing. (It’s not that hard.)

But my real problem with this argument is that I don’t think people in general are that stupid. Call me a hopeless optimist, but in my experience most people have enough sense to see through that kind of simple trick. I think the explanations for the Republicans’ behavior lie elsewhere.

Still, it’s a great article, and I highly recommend reading it.

The other day I happened to see about 85% of Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull on TV. I missed the beginning. Although I enjoyed the first two Indiana Jones films, I hadn’t bothered to see it because I’d heard lots of negative opinions about it. (Warning: spoilers ahead!)

I was quite pleasantly surprised by it. It’s not a great film, but from what I saw it seemed quite comparable in quality to Raiders of the Lost Ark. What was especially interesting to me was the fact that, behind all the action-adventure silliness and the 1950s nostalgia George Lucas likes so much, its story, boiled down to its basic elements, is almost a Lovecraftian weird-tale.

What I mean is that there are unexplained alien beings with an unexplained agenda at the center of the plot. And, significantly, the main villain is eliminated–not exactly killed, I don’t think–by being overwhelmed by the amount of knowledge the alien consciousness imparts to her. The quote at the foot of this blog illustrates how that fits into Lovecraft’s style.

Having said that, clearly the tone of Indiana Jones is far lighter than anything Lovecraft would dream up. It’s not a “weird tale” in that there is no real suspense or horror for anyone over the age of seven that any unpleasant fate will befall any of the Good characters. This is just as it should be in an Indiana Jones film, of course.

Still, I thought it worth noting, as I have commented on the lack of Lovecraftian movies in the past.

Chris Nashawaty of Entertainment Weekly agrees with the generally accepted assessment of Citizen Kane as the “greatest American film of all time”.

Personally, I’ve always thought Citizen Kane was overrated. Which is not to say it is bad; for I think the acting, writing and direction are all quite good. But I don’t see it as a particularly excellent film, merely a very competent one. I don’t like to resort to such prosaic means as this for evaluating film, but I think “B+” adequately summarizes my feelings about it.

So what is the greatest American film? It’s hard to say, partly because I’m not sure what “American” means here.  I’m assuming that they mean “films made by Americans”, which is hard to judge because I haven’t seen anywhere close to every such film. (Under this definition, however, I don’t see why Lawrence of Arabia, great though it is, is reckoned as an “American” film.)

On the other hand, if you think of it rather as “films that seem American”–that is, films that showcase stereotypically American qualities, regardless of who made them–then it’s rather different again. (Personally, for that I’d nominate the original Star Wars.)

On The McLaughlin Group last night (we all have our guilty pleasures) the panelists were screaming about discussing government funding for the arts. Pat Buchanan, of course, examined the issue in the context of his “culture war”; that is to say, he argued that because government funds works like those of Andres Serrano, which he and many others find offensive, the best compromise is to not have any government funding of the arts at all.

Well, I think most people would agree the arts are very important to society, even if one doesn’t like or even consider the work of Serrano and similar “art”. But then again, as the Conservatives would say, what good is it if it has to be subsidized by the government? Surely, it should be a spontaneous result of the culture, not brought about through government subsidization.

Perhaps. Although it’s worth bearing in mind that the Medici family and the Church paid for the famous art of the Renaissance. And while I’m sure Conservatives will say the Church is different from the government, that argument is based on the experience of Americans, who may not quite realize the extent to which the Church was the government in Renaissance Italy.

Not to say that there is no merit to the argument that government ought not to fund the arts. After all, if the aim of real Art ought to be Truth, and if it is funded by a government, it is quite likely they will fund only that art which advances their agenda, and may be quite contrary to higher purposes. Propaganda, in other words. (Indeed, I sometimes think many Conservatives would not be opposed to this use of government-sponsored art.)

Then again, it seems funding must come from somewhere, and since true art may not always be profitable, where else can it come from but from an institution that does not have to turn a profit?

In addition to the other points I made in this post, I should add that it’s not in fact true that lower-class whites are depicted as the sole source of racism in To Kill a Mockingbird. It’s true that the Ewells are the most egregious example, but really everyone except Atticus Finch “goes along” with racism. Even educated people, such as the Judge, are going along with the racist system, even if they do have some feeling that they ought not to.

That’s sort of a major point of the book, actually, and I’m surprised how many people miss it.

A professor named Allan Lichtman has a model for predicting elections that indicates Obama will win re-election. According to that article, his model has been right about every election since 1984.

I agree with most of what his model says, but I take issue with his assessment of point #12 of his model “Incumbent charisma”. He says:

“‘I did not give President Obama the incumbent charisma key. I counted it against him. He’s really led from behind. He didn’t really take the lead in the healthcare debate, he didn’t use his speaking ability to move the American people during the recession. He’s lost his ability to connect since the 2008 election.'”

I disagree with the idea that Obama didn’t “take the lead”. He did give speeches on all of those issues, after all. He’s not the King, as both Liberals and Conservatives sometimes seem to think; he still has to deal with Congress. These are vague complaints, which I think reflect wishful thinking on Prof. Lichtman’s part.

Also, Obama after 2008 was dangerously close to becoming overexposed. If he’d kept showing up everywhere to talk about issues, people would be sick of him. Obama has wisely conserved his charismatic abilities so as to be able to use them for his campaign.

Bottom line, though, I agree with this appraisal. The one other caveat, as I see it, is on point #13 “Challenger charisma”. Palin has some charisma, so if she decided to run it would change things, but it’s hard to know what she’s doing. And I still think Obama would win.

(Hat Tip to Megan McArdle)