Mumbling in the Dark

(Let America Be America Again-- Langston Hughes)

Monday, June 28, 2004

Fahrenheit 9/11

I could state the obvious-- it could have been done so much better, it could have had focus, it could have delved into the real issues that Moore discussed in a single sentence and then moved past or the ones he never mentioned at all, it could have focused, not on Bush himself, but the system and structures and society he's a part of-- I could go on and on, of course.

But what fascinates me is that Michael Moore has become mainstream. Fahrenheit 9/11 has become The Film To See for Democrats everywhere. And Michael Moore is a good deal farther left than your average Democrat. Yeah, he lacks substance. Yeah, he's not as radical as me and my friends. Yeah, this particular film doesn't do a great deal to move the consciousness of a nation. Maybe Moore never will. But he's setting people up, taking millions and millions one step along the way.

There's all this talk about "preaching to the choir"-- I think the story of this film isn't the folks as far left as you and me, the activists, the people in the streets. We didn't learn anything new; we didn't hear anything we didn't expect to; and we probably all left the theater wishing the film had been much better. (I'm certainly not denying that I did.) But this is about the middle and the mainstream of the Democratic party. And I bet they got some things out of it that can be important stepping stones for them politically. I've been thinking a lot lately about building "The Movement"... Fahrenheit 9/11 isn't going to radicalize anyone on its own, but it might get people to a place where they're more open to becoming radical. Or maybe I'm just an unrealistic optimist, who knows?

As for the movie on its merits: It's a mediocre film, but it has some high points. The sniping at Bush for his Saudi connections was pointless (Clinton was plenty cozy with the Saudis himself, of course), the emphasis on those 7 minutes in the classroom pretty irrelevant, the profiles of peace activists targeted by law enforcement highlighting the glaring absence of emphasis on the thousands of immigrants illegally detained. But Moore also does occasionally push people to pay attention to things they wouldn't otherwise yet really ought to: the manipulation of people through fear, while the actual fighting of al-Qaeda is neglected and undermined. The way our economy denies lower-class people opportunity, and how the military preys on that by offering the kind of opportunities that these kids ought to have in the first place. The way businesses are profiting from the war and occupation. And he doesn't dwell on the way Democrats enabled most of the problems he's discussing, but he at least brings it up.

And I agree with what so many others have said is the most significant of this film. The case Moore makes best is about war, what it really means. He lets his audience see, experience, and genuinely understand that war means death and suffering for soldiers and for Iraqi civilians. He shows what occupation means for soldiers and Iraqis. He makes it real for Americans, and real is, of course, ugly.

Sure, almost everyone in the audience at Fahrenheit 9/11 probably opposes the war now. But I bet you a lot of them supported it on the eve of war. And maybe the way they felt watching the end of the movie is something they will carry with them the next time we're on our way to war-- because finally, Moore delivers a real message that is universal, not about Bush and the Republicans but about war itself, life and death, oppression, exploitation, injustice. He boils down the issues,
putting the question of "Are you for or against the war?" into a light that I bet many people in the audience never really had before, showing the faces of the young soldiers as he powerfully reminds us what pro- and anti-war means:

"They serve so that we don't have to. They offer to give up their lives so that we can be free. It is, remarkably, their gift to us. And all they ask for in return is that we never send them into harm's way unless it is absolutely necessary."

That touched me. I bet it touched some other folks, too. And so for all its many, many, many flaws, I'm glad Fahrenheit 9/11 came out and is reaching the people it has and will. I think it'll help us as activists in doing the work that we believe in. Only a little, maybe, but I'll take what I can get. Like I argued back during the Moore-or-Chomsky debates (ah, how naive we were to think we'd actually get ASG funding!), we may not like the way he does it, but Moore's way is a way that reaches people and starts them on the path towards where we want them to be. So I call it a good thing.

Monday, June 14, 2004

Sick at Heart

I saw a Sun-Times article today about the income distribution at NU (and other schools), and can't stop thinking about it. It's not like it's news to me, but every time I'm reminded of it, I get as angry and upset and obsessed as the first time. It's really sickening and horrific to me. I played around with the numbers for awhile at work, which I shouldn't've, and sent out an e-mail to a bunch of listservs in the vain hope that people will pay enough attention to it that we can figure out something to do.

Here's just one breakdown of the numbers, which I wish I'd figured out before I sent the e-mail. I haven't got the actual numbers offhand-- maybe I'll edit this later-- but I know I'm really close because I can't forget this stuff.

$0-$25K US: 29% NU: 5%
$25K-$50K US: 30% NU: 10%
$50K-$100K US: 29% NU: 28%
$100K+: US: 13% NU: 58%

And that doesn't even deal with the 20% of NU students with incomes over $250K, or the fact that about 90% of NU students have family incomes above the US median income.

This stuff stirs up so many emotions in me; I can't really explain it. I ought to try to explore it more when I have time. But every time I really think about it, I wonder why every second of our time as student activists isn't spent fighting this. We are a part of the machine that takes children of rich and upper-middle class families and turns them into the rich and upper-middle class of the next generation. We are a part of the system, reaping its benefits, and whether or not we choose to use our elite education for our own personal gain, we will always have the privilege of that option. There are millions of Americans who don't get the chances we do, and instead of fighting to tear down the barriers that keep them out and create a stratified society, we sit back and let it happen.

It makes me think of those timeless words of Mario Savio: "There is a time when the operation of the machine becomes so odious, makes you so sick at heart, that you can't take part; you can't even passively take part, and you've got to put your bodies upon the gears and upon the wheels, upon the levers, upon all the apparatus, and you've got to make it stop."

But I have taken part. I get my diploma on Saturday alongside hundreds of other privileged kids, like thousands before me and thousands yet to come, and while I may be sick at heart, I haven't done a damn thing to make the machine stop.

What can we do?