The transgressive frission of conservatism.

So, I'm reading Slavoj Zizek, one of those ultra-wordy postmodern philosophers that "sophisticated" people love to quote even though they rarely have any idea what it is he's talking about. The funny thing is, he's not that hard to read, but you do have to put some effort into it.

He has an interesting idea that I just want to repeat, for the fun of it. The idea is simple: people join ultra-conservative and ultra-liberal movements, movements where some charismatic leader tells them what they should and should not do, say, and even think, not because they fear the "vague freedoms and overwhelming choices of the majority middle," but because they want to engage in transgression, and joining such a charismatic leader thrills them because it gives them the freedom to do so.

I mean, think about it. Right now we, the sorta liberal, sorta conservative, mostly "leave me alone" middle live in a bewildering array of rules and restrictions-- sexual harrasment laws, social injunctions about food, about smoking, about dirty jokes. We use a lot of guilt to make people behave.

Right now, being a Republican and following in George Bush's footsteps, for the time being, gives those who do a certain freedom-- the right to say things about gays, about race relations, about women-- that they could never get away with in polite company. Now, being loyal to a leader who is absolutely convinced of his rightness means never questioning one's own passions, but instead indulging in them, no matter how ugly they might be, without qualm or guilt.

It's an interesting idea. While we look at the Evangelical right and think that they live with such a ridiculous list of restrictions, they're positively loving every second of this new-found freedom. They have been the class nerds for the past decade, clenching their hands and waiting for the time when they can say what they want, do what they want. When they can tell us where we can shove our notions of a polite society. The neocon ascent has given them that freedom. And they're jerking it for everything it's worth.

I suspect they know it won't last long.

Just another manic Tuesday...

So, anyway, Tuesday after work I wandered over to Yamaarashi-chan's house to pick her up. She's really gotten into Dance Dance Revolution (yay, a physical activity), and man if that isn't a humbling game to watch: she's pretty good, but after finishing up a level the meter at the bottom read, "You burned 18.3 calories." Great. What does it take to actually lose weight?

I stopped by the house and picked up Omaha and Kouryou-chan and took them out to a Japanese restaurant, where Kouryou-chan chanted "Ewww" when I ate raw octopus slices. The girls dug down on deep-fried ice cream. We wandered over to the bookstore but didn't buy anything; money's tight this month. I wish I'd remembered to bring the stack of books to give to Half-Price Books, since they'll give me a cash card good for their books, and I've developed a sudden interest in T. Coraghessan Boyle's work.

I've also revived my gum habit, now that I've chewed my way through a twelve-pack of pens. In a moment reminicent of Calvin & Hobbes, I must say that Hershey's can't make a stick of gum worth chewing. All of their line has a mealy and unpleasant texture compared to Wrigley's. And why the heck do so many brands have phenylalanine in them, anyway? There's no reason for JuicyFruit to have it.

Since I can't write with my laptop (and I tried one of those PDA keyboards-- too small, and no Dvorak driver for it, not good for my wrists at all) I've taken to driving in to work more often. If nothing else, it gives me study time and books-on-tape.

I also made it all the way through the introductory course in Japanese, all four CDs. I'm rather pleased-- I've never made it to the end of a lesson pack before. I suppose having a private study space has made a big difference in my attitude towards the material. Now I have to decide if I'm going to finish the long course-- all 70 lessons worth.

Current fiction book, e-type: At The Mountains of Madness, by H.P. Lovecraft.

Current fiction book, paper: Tipping the Velvet by Sarah Waters.

Current non-fiction: Modern Japanese.

The crucifixtion of Lawrence VanDyke.

For those of you coming into this late, here's the story. Mr. VanDyke is a last-year law student at Harvard University who wrote, at first anonymously, an effusive and glowing review of Darwinism & Public Education: The Establishment Clause and The Challenge of Intelligent Design, by one Francis Beckwith.

Brian Leiter, a professor of law and philosophy in Texas, wrote a scathing response, identifying the writer as Lawrence VanDyke and saying,

The author of this incompetent book note . . . is one Lawrence VanDyke, a student editor of the Review. Mr. VanDyke may yet have a fine career as a lawyer, but I trust he has no intention of entering law teaching: scholarly fraud is, I fear, an inauspicious beginning for an aspiring law teacher. And let none of the many law professors who are readers of this site be mistaken: Mr. VanDyke has perpetrated a scholarly fraud, one that may have political and pedagogical consequences.

Pretty vicious, but not unwarranted based on the content.

( And the Intelligent Design circus came to town. )

I just have to wonder: did VanDyke know, going into this little adventure, that he was sacrificing his career? In the era of the Internet, he will never escape this fact: in his first public appearance in his chosen profession, Lawrence VanDyke wrote a deliberately fallacious review in favor of pseudo-science. I have to wonder where the Discovery Institute finds these victims, but grooming them must be something like the way Hamas prepares suicide bombers.

His half-hearted withdrawl from the field of battle includes the classic "I'm not a scientist, I don't know if the science is good" excuse. Makes you wonder if his law will be any better.