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Politics : Bill Clinton Scandal - SANITY CHECK

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To: Volsi Mimir who wrote (9931)10/17/1998 1:19:00 PM
From: Volsi Mimir  Read Replies (1) of 67261
 
Intelligentsia Bankrupt
by James K. Glassman
October 15, 1998
intellectualcapital.com

It is easy to pick on artists when they write about politics. They may know fiction and poetry, but, when their brains turn to matters of state, we get, well ... mush.
But why did the new editor of The New Yorker, an intelligent fellow named David Remnick, decide to put their uninformed, often moronic opinions on display? It is mind-boggling, but there they were, leading off the "Talk of the Town" section in the Oct. 5, 1998, edition. In fact, so many artists wanted to weigh in that the pieces slopped over into the next issue.

"The Topic";
was it necessary
In its coy style, The New Yorker did not even delineate the question, other than to call it "The Topic," but we all knew what it was: the Lewinsky scandal. "Thanks to the papers," said the introduction, "we know what the columnists think. Thanks to round-the-clock cable, we know what the ex-prosecutors, the right-wing blondes, the teletropic law professors, the disgraced political consultants think. Thanks to the polls, we know what the 'American people' think. But what about the experts on human folly?"

For the defense

The first expert was the hyperbolic Toni Morrison, who tells us that the independent counsel's authority "may be reminiscent of a solitary Torequemada on a holy mission of lethal inquisition" (a theme to which many of the Nobelist's colleagues will return). She talks about "feral Republicans, smelling blood and a shot at the totalitarian power they believe is rightfully theirs" as they mount a "sustained, bloody, arrogant coup d'etat."

Next, we have Janet Malcolm, who writes (well, I should add) on such matters as psychoanalysis. "It is the brash Monica," she writes, "not the passive Bill, who finally earns the reader's censure." Actually, this is a kind portrayal of the intern. Someone named Louis Begley (sorry if I can't identify him; The New Yorker, again coyly, provides no clues, but he writes like a prig) calls her a "little slut."

Novelist Jane Smiley opines: "War always brings Bill Clinton to a state of deep reluctance rather than a state of secret thrill. Love seems to have a different effect. Love seems to turn him on." This is good, she believes -- who doesn't? In fact, throughout these little essays, there winds the theme that left-wingers are hot, sexy folks, while right-wingers are uptight, resentful prudes. (This has not been my personal experience.)

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