How Can America Ever Be Debamboozled?

Email Print
FacebookTwitterShare

That
lovely word, "debamboozled" I got from Murray N. Rothbard's
inspiriting essay, "The
Case for Revisionism (and Against A Priori History)
," which
was recently a von Mises Institute Daily E-Mailing. It was first
published in The Libertarian Forum in 1976, but it is as
fresh and pertinent as anything that turns up on LRC.

I
picked up on the word because of two weeks I had just spent (offline)
in New York, Pennsylvania, and New England. Everywhere I went I
kept feeling that the people I met, however amiable, and most were,
were evidently bamboozled as to politics (and to a considerable
extent that meant, as far as I was concerned, also to life in general
today in these states); and they were therefore very much in need
of debamboozlement.

There
seemed to me to be, among the relations and friends and business
associates I met along the way, a pious but unrealistic hope that,
no matter what, Kerry will be better than Bush, that solutions to
whatever problems there are will come, must come, from government,
and anyway, life is basically good in America, that things go forward,
despite all, in the best possible way, in the best possible of all
countries, in the best possible of all worlds, with the only negative
in the overall scene being a nagging note of unpleasantness struck
by the words, unfortunately not entirely avoidable: "Iraq,"
"Bush," "war." But a resolute direction of the
gaze away from these to family, sport, food, and weekend trips to
shore or mountains, could keep those bad words and others they bring
in train from spoiling one's day.

I
hasten to say – and perhaps you won't believe me – that I take on no
lofty airs because I see how unsatisfactory this stance is; I think
they all do too, but as they see it, it is all that offers, so they
stick with it. It's just that I do not choose to stop there, and
in that I feel like a visitor from another planet. What I felt most
strongly going back to the scenes of my earlier years and traveling
about and having many pleasant encounters and viewing much beautiful
scenery and handsome old towns, especially in New Hampshire and
Vermont, was the ever-presence of the "ubiquitous shade of
Nemesis," to borrow a phrase from George Santayana, who used
it in describing Sybaris, a place of beauty, pleasure, and wealth,
which was nonetheless doomed. (I forget why.)

I
have today seen Michael Moore's Fahrenheit 9/11. I have not
seen his earlier films nor read his books, but this surely is his
masterpiece? He has done what the major media should have done a
long time ago, namely, punctured the balloon of one GWB. You may
not know what to do when the final frame comes up telling you to
"Do something," but you certainly know at last that we
have been wrecked by a certified pipsqueak and his shady handlers.

I
have read at least one critic who complains that Moore's is a narcissistic
personality. Perhaps. On the basis of the old saw that it takes
one to know one, Moore has got our Führer just right. There
is one direct plug for the Democrats and the overall sense that
the leftist trip is the way to go, but the massive impact of the
film comes from the footage of Bush and war and the grossly narcissistic
personalities that are involved in both. In my view a move to Kerry
would be to involve us in just more of the same, but even I can
feel the appeal of unBush at this point, and no other alternatives
seem to be offering.

So
I say compliments to Mr. Moore; may he make further millions; and
may he continue to help with the debamboozlement of the citizenry.
He has done a great work already.

But
I do not sense any lifting of the shadow of Nemesis as the result
of one mere film. In one terrific scene a matronly Iraq women calls
down God's vengeance on the attackers who killed some of her family
and are destroying her country. Precisely. But we sophisticated
people know better than to take such stuff seriously. God is on
the side of power. The lady cries in vain. As does the Flint, Michigan,
mother of a slain soldier who weeps in front of the fenced-off White
House.

One
wonders how differently we would have to react to the news in general
or this film in particular to arrive by the millions in Washington
or even by the thousands in our local Court House square to register
that we the people beg to differ and wish the whole batch of jobbers
and killers and smilers to be gone for good. Is there any hope of
getting to that point? I feel the need to keep thinking so.

June
28, 2004

Tom
White [send him mail]
writes from Odessa, Texas. He is the author of Bill
W., A Different Kind of Hero: The Story of Alcoholics Anonymous

(2003).

Tom
White Archives

Email Print
FacebookTwitterShare
  • LRC Blog

  • LRC Podcasts