Michael’s Rantings

We live in interesting times. It is a testament to the amount of change we face that there is so much cultural reaction: the Tea Party being just one manifestation. While the politics and shouting are certainly colorful, they cause me to reflect on the reasons why our society struggles to incorporate cultural knowledge from generation to generation. Before I speculate on these reasons, I’d like to select a couple of contemporary, critical issues and illustrate the failure to leverage historical knowledge in their resolution.

America faces legitimate policy debates, regardless of whether the standards are born by political parties or others. Our country is still submerged in a deep economic morass, brought about by deregulation and a laissez-faire attitude. After nearly a decade of war in Central Asia and the Persian Gulf, a profound military restructuring is occurring before our eyes, with an almost sexy, rebranding program. And, as one of those conflicts winds down, the bellicosity of many politicians towards Iran, North Korea (video via ThinkProgress) and Venezuela increases. While these issues all have history to inform the debate, policy makers are repeating a number of mistakes without much notice on the part of the press or citizenry.

Global Transformation

I’m going to start here because this seems like the easiest item (although I’m sure that many pundits will disagree.) Since the beginning of World War II, there has been an unbroken belief in the ability of America to transform other countries in the world with its military power. Whether through covert action, such as the 1953 overthrow of Iranian Prime Minister Mossadegh, and tinkering throughout Latin America, or full-scale warfare in Vietnam, this belief evolved to its pinnacle with the Bush Doctrine, when our country asserted that we were the sole arbiters of deciding whose values were aligned with our own, and who needed to be deposed. If a political regime is not allied with us, then military force is a desirable transformation tool.

Historically, the United States’ track record on ‘regime change’ is poor. While we did maintain influence in Iran for a quarter-century after the Mossadegh coup, the backlash which led to the Iranian revolution has caused headaches for us in the Persian Gulf for over three decades. The overthrow of Prime Minister Diem in Vietnam was allowed in order to assert more American authority, but we were unable to fill the consequent power vacuum and eventually failed to achieve our objectives in southeast Asia. And then there’s Iraq. George Bush and the neocons opened up a huge vacuum in one of the most unstable parts of the world, and acted surprised when their “reverse domino theory” failed to spread democracy across the region.

Power vacuums behave unpredictably, and are inherently dangerous. This is especially true when authoritarian leaders are overthrown, because nothing has had the opportunity to develop and fill the vacuum in an orderly fashion. Now, I don’t want to sound snarky, but that was one of the first things I learned in International Relations class – Political Science 102 with Dr. Cindy Kaplan. It requires a tremendous amount of hubris to engage in this kind of behavior.

Counterinsurgency (COIN)

I could rant about this for hours, and others have given it serious treatment. However, my only purpose is to outline the issue and illustrate how it applies to my thesis that America has a cultural knowledge problem.

The policy of counterinsurgency is sexy-hot right now, and General David Petraeus – the head of the International Security Assistance Force in Afghanistan – has more celebrity cache than Brad Pitt. But is our collective memory that short? Most of us think of the military as a brute-force tool to be used as a last resort when lots of people need to be killed in order to force a nation-state to submit. After all, that’s exactly what it was through World War II. For a number of reasons beyond the scope of this post, that all changed with Vietnam. After realizing that the Vietnamese could not be decisively defeated, the tactic of counterinsurgency was introduced. It was an abject failure, and the Army Officer Corps repented. In fact, the tactic was so unpopular through the 70′s and 80′s that David Petraeus actually divorced himself from the idea in his Ph.D. dissertation.

The Powell Doctrine wiped away the bitter taste of Vietnam when it was applied during the first Gulf War. It was used again for the invasion of Iraq, and the American public was treated to “shock and awe.” However, after the Iraq war went off the rails, and the Bush Administration was handed its head on a pike in the 2006 mid-term elections, something new was needed. In stepped General Petraeus with his counterinsurgency manual. It was a political lifeline for George W. Bush, and the “surge” allowed him to extend the Iraq war as well as redefine the measure of success. As the idea of decisive victory is jettisoned in Iraq and Afghanistan, we are being prepared for “the Long War” – decades of low-grade deployment and indecisiveness – right before our very eyes, and without public debate.

Regulation of Industry

At this writing, the Deepwater Horizon disaster is not quite four months old. The well has been temporarily capped, but not before an estimated 4.9 million barrels of oil spilled into a fishery that supplies 25% of the domestic catch. In 2008, the American financial sector completed a decade-long bender by placing its head between its knees and puking all over its feet, and ours. Just two weeks ago, a half-billion eggs from two factory farms were recalled for salmonella contamination, affecting fourteen states. Asserting that the interests of consumers are not being adequately protected would be a gross understatement.

And yet, the public debate has deteriorated into an uncivil shouting match, with an entire political party doubling-down on the idea that we already have too much regulation. Despite my pleasant, carefree day-to-day life, I am being told that I live under the yoke of tyranny. This hyperbole is now the center of the debate, as opposed to fringe background noise. While it is easy for many people to dismiss, it exerts influence on the parameters of the debate. Our country continues to move towards the fringe, albeit slowly. I wonder what Sir Francis Galton would say about that?

For those ideologues on the right, it is pertinent to point out that even two ‘godfathers’ of libertarian economics – Adam Smith and Friedrich Hayek – recognized the importance of regulation to optimize markets. For if a consumer in the market can’t be assured of the contents of a product, it is impossible to assign an accurate value to it. Nicolas Gruen wrote an interesting piece on Smith’s treatment of regulations in the banking industry, but you can also go straight to the horse’s mouth and find passages in The Wealth of Nations. Hayek devotes quite a bit of space to this topic in his seminal piece, The Road to Serfdom. He notes that, in order for free markets to thrive, barriers to entry must be low, and consumers must have adequate information to make decisions. These things and others require an appropriate amount of government regulation, as well as developed legal statutes and an efficient court system with integrity. Laissez-faire is a phrase that is never given consideration.

Preserving Cultural Knowledge

It’s not that I don’t believe in experimentation. But Americans have a tendency to over-apply the notion of sui generis. By seeing each situation as unique and undiscovered, we relieve ourselves of the need to make tough and unpopular decisions. How do we explain the detachment from reality? It’s easy to blame things on ignorance, but that doesn’t explain much. And the cultural knowledge itself – preserved in our literature, oral and written histories, cinema and video – is certainly available to anyone who looks for it. In fact, it requires a concerted effort to weave an alternate mythology, an effort that should be more visible to informed Americans. The process is intense and expensive, so it should come as no surprise that its purpose is to gain power, which illustrates the high value of holding power in this country. That so many of our politicians – people we trust to lead our country – would forego knowledge and accomplishment to the benefit of the nation, for the purpose of gaining power, is beyond disappointing (remember ‘Country First‘?)

The inefficient transfer of cultural knowledge does more than simply vindicate the adage of repeating mistakes, it wastes tremendous societal resources and hinders achievement. If Thomas Jefferson’s vision for the United States included progress through the application of Enlightenment reasoning, then anything less than the preservation and reliance on cultural knowledge will fail to achieve that goal. But beyond the references to Hayek and Smith, conservatism demands pragmatism as well. Edmund Burke, the modern father of conservatism (now called paleo-conservatism to give the neo-conservative radicals a pass) strongly believed that dogma impeded progress, and was anathema to good public policy (see Russell Kirk’s conservative bible, ‘The Conservative Mind’ for a wonderful treatment of many conservative thinkers.) In other words, storing and utilizing cultural knowledge isn’t a political issue, it is – obviously – a societal one. We can strive to move forward and achieve excellence in our public discourse, or we can remain uncivilized.

I found a tasty little recipe this weekend after picking up some kohlrabi at the farmer’s market. If you’ve never tried kohlrabi, put it on your list. It’s a relative of the turnip and radish, and quite delicious raw or cooked.

The provenance of this recipe apparently begins with the October 1992 issue of Gourmet magazine. It was then modified by Alanna Kellogg, who posted it to the website A Veggie Venture. I have further modified it.

3 bulbs kohlrabi
2 Granny Smith apples
6 oz. plain yogurt
1 lemon
3 T chopped mint
1 t stone-ground mustard
1 t sugar
salt and pepper to taste

Squeeze lemon and reserve 1 tablespoon of juice. Trim and chop kohlrabi and apple into batons. Place in bowl, and toss with lemon juice to prevent oxidation. Set aside.

Mix yogurt, reserved lemon juice, chopped mint, mustard, and sugar. Whisk until emulsified. Season with salt and pepper. Toss with slaw and serve immediately with mint leaf garnish.

I came across this quote today while reading Andrew Bacevich’s new book, Washington Rules.

…committing U.S. units to counterinsurgencies appears to be a very problematic proposition, difficult to conclude before domestic support erodes and costly enough to threaten the well-being of all America’s military forces (and hence the country’s national security), not just those involved in the actual counterinsurgency.

David Howell Petraeus, “The American Military and the Lessons of Vietnam: A Study of Military Influence and the Use of Force in the Post-Vietnam Era” (unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Princeton University, 1987), p. 305.

Nothing else can be said, can it?

Tuesdays are flexible for me: the dog goes to daycare, and I don’t have any client obligations, so sometimes I find plenty of time on my hands. Today I decided to head downtown to the Art Institute of Chicago and check out the Henri Cartier-Bresson exhibit. Cartier-Bresson was a singular force in modern photography, and his career spanned five decades before his retirement in 1975. Exhibits like this are why people live in big cities.

As usual, the Art Institute did a fabulous job, and I got a little lagniappe when I automatically went downstairs to the photo galleries and found a wonderful tribute to Louis Sullivan, the famous 19th-century Chicago architect and mentor to Frank Lloyd Wright. In addition to some lovely graphite sketches of variations on building ornamentation – done by Sullivan – the exhibit is comprised of silver-gelatin prints from three artists: John Szarkowski, Aaron Siskind and Richard Nickel, who came together in the early 50′s at the Institute of Design. The three of them documented Sullivan’s work throughout Chicago, at a time when many of the beautiful buildings were being demolished for urban renewal. Szarkowski went on to replace Steichen at MoMA, Siskind was an influential photographer in his own right, and Nickel – a favorite of mine – remained in Chicago to pursue the documentation and preservation of Sullivan’s work. Sadly, he was killed in 1972 when a stairwell at the Chicago Exchange building collapsed while he was salvaging precious ornamental work before its demolition. In all, about 50 images comprise the exhibit; don’t wait too long to see it.

Cartier-Bresson’s catalog stretches from the early 1930′s through the mid-70′s, and the Art Institute has many examples from each important period. The first gallery includes early works from Spain and France, as well as his travels into colonial Africa. There is an entire gallery devoted to the portraiture of many celebrities and intellectuals, and significant space is given to his work in China and the Soviet Union. Cartier-Bresson was known for his ability to photograph ‘in the moment’, to capture the essence of the interaction between subjects, including the audience. This exhibit does a magnificent job of highlighting that ability, and because of that it is an emotional experience that is most enjoyable.

One thing that I learned today was that Cartier-Bresson was not enamored with darkroom work, and did not print his own negatives. He only cared about the image itself, and could not be tied down with the technicalities of the darkroom. Interestingly, that made my examination of his work different than the previous exhibit, for I didn’t examine the nature of the print as much as I sat back and viewed the image more holistically. Given the nature of this artist’s work, I think that is the best method.

The show runs through October 3rd. Whatever you do, don’t miss it.

With all the bogus controversy surrounding the Park51 Community Center in lower Manhattan (also know as the Ground-Zero Mosque), the right-wing has boxed themselves into a corner. How does “common sense” dictate that Muslims should relocate their place of worship, but gun zealots get to carry cop-killing bullets? If the test is just a matter of diffusing trouble, then we should hold the NRA to the same standard.

Today marked my second visit to Smoque, a great barbeque joint in the Irving Park neighborhood of Chicago (about a block south of the Irving Park Blue Line stop.) Snaps to Bridgid for pointing me in the right direction a few weeks back.

This is a down-and-dirty, community-seating, corner restaurant that is moving serious volume even at 4:00 in the afternoon. As you walk in, there is a sign instructing you to order first, and a large blackboard detailing your choices. The kitchen is open and visible, and the buzz is high.

I ordered a brisket platter, which comes with slaw and two sides. Today’s choices were mac & cheese and cornbread. Total cost: about eleven dollars with my Coke, which I poured at the fountain before sitting down with my book.

So, there are a couple of things that make or break a barbeque joint: getting the meat right and offering great sides. One challenge for thrifty restauranteurs is devoting the necessary time to barbeque. I can’t even begin to recount all the delicious-smelling, chewy ribs I’ve had over the years. So I’m always skeptical. But both my platters at Smoque were done right. Tonight’s brisket was sublime: the outside of the meat had a thin layer of char, while the brisket fell apart with the touch of my fork. The flavor is so lovely that using sauce should be a crime. I can’t wait to go back and try a slab of ribs.

The sides were a mixed bag. This is usually where I bitch about barbeque joints. First, the good stuff. The cole slaw is awesome; a perfect combination of sweet and tart. It is included with every platter, as it should be – this is their signature side. I also enjoyed the cornbread. It was simple and full of flavor. But most important, the moisture and texture was very enjoyable. The mac & cheese left me pretty ambivalent. It wasn’t bad, just nothing special. Especially in this day of over-the-top mac & cheese offerings, I felt let down. Next time I will definitely go back to the baked beans.

You can’t go wrong here. And believe me, I’m just repeating what others have said. But given my proclivity to eat red meat, I’m looking forward to many more delicious meals at Smoque.

I play housewife in my home, so I shop a lot. Over the past couple of days, a theme has emerged. I guess it’s always been there, but lately it has moved to the forefront of my thoughts: there are a lot of ‘medicine wagon’ remedies for sale in our culture.

That they exist at all is a testimony to the effectiveness of the traveling salesman and the gullibility of the consumer. We all know the stories of men traveling from town to town, selling liniments and tonics guaranteed to accomplish everything from hair restoration to longevity. He would stay long enough to achieve market saturation, deplete his inventory of herb-infused sugar water, and then move down the road. He never had to return, so he never had to worry about repeat business. The next shyster that came along had little trouble selling his wares, since people never seemed to be hesitant about giving their trust. Which brings us to the interesting question about our nature: why do we still give that trust to the traveling salesman, after generations of getting ripped off?

Of course, the salesman has evolved, staying well ahead of his customer base. Today he is in the pharmacies and health food stores, has branding campaigns and even carve-outs in federal regulatory law. So we don’t see the medicine wagon anymore. But that doesn’t mean that it isn’t there. On a recent trip to Whole Foods, I walked through the supplements section and found pollens, root extracts – everything but powdered rhino horn. People flock to these remedies without any reason to believe that they will help, other than what is printed on the label. And thanks to our Congress, led by Senator Orrin Hatch of Utah, the supplement industry is pretty much allowed to print anything they want on the label, and put anything they want in the product. The only difference between then and now is that the Whole Foods consumer has more disposable income.

Where does this come from? One hundred and forty years later, it is easy to describe the consumer of 1870 as ignorant, but I’m not really sure that does justice to the question. There is a more complicated process at work here for the medicine wagon to have survived for so long. Surely it begins with vanity: as a person, we desire ways to look better, perform better, and feel better. Aging is a bitch, and anything that mitigates its effects is welcomed. But what about effectiveness, the main lesson in the medicine wagon story? Today’s remedies provide no more assurance of that, and as I mentioned earlier, we don’t even know if they are adulterated. All we really have is trust in the brand, which is meaningless. In fact, more science and information about these products hasn’t impacted their popularity one bit. It’s almost as if Americans are adamant about buying from the medicine wagon.

Individualism and libertarianism are two characteristics that Americans have embraced with pride, but sometimes it’s taken a little too far. Not that you aren’t free to discard your money at the medicine wagon. It’s just that the only kind of ignorance that can explain it today is the willful kind. Modernity and science have extended our capabilities far beyond ourselves, but that can only be embraced if we give up a bit of our individuality. To remain a rugged frontiersman (metaphorically, of course) we must reject that which others can provide, including knowledge. I’d like to think that, 140 years from now, we’ll be less likely to support the medicine wagon. But I have never embraced the frontier, instead preferring to build upon what has come before me. While it’s important to explore and forge new directions, growth occurs from the assimilation of that exploration, after the fact. Both are critical to improving our lives, and learning the lessons of the medicine wagon.

There sure are a lot of people using the word freedom these days. I hadn’t noticed, but apparently I’m living under the yoke of tyranny, which is probably a big surprise to the Burmese people. Anyway, I had an interesting conversation a while back with a dear friend over a bottle of wine. We are both great dog lovers, so I put the following question to her:

Who is more free: the dog running loose in a fenced yard, or the dog walking the neighborhood on a leash with his owner?

Now, the dog in the backyard has freedom of movement, and he can lay in the shade, or lay in the sun, without having to worry about the desires of someone else. To make a finer point, he can lay all day, as opposed to walking briskly and getting tired. If he wants to chase squirrels, so be it. He has the freedom to do many things, but one thing he can’t ever do is leave the yard. So, in a sense, he is a prisoner.

The dog on the leash has another set of issues. She is confined to a small area surrounding her owner. She must obey commands, and is expected to maintain a steady pace over a long distance. She cannot decide to lay down in the sunshine (although mine tries to.) Her leash is a shackle which restricts her movement. Of course, unlike her counterpart, she gets to experience life beyond the fence. In the course of her walk, she can meet and play with other dogs, and smell things that dogs smell. People will call her cute, and pet her, which makes her happy. She sees a much larger world than the dog in the yard.

There is [sadly] a third scenario. The feral dog lives in the city park, or a vacant lot. He has no concerns about fences or learning manners. He never yields to the command, “stay.” In a true libertarian sense, he is unencumbered by societal concerns and responsibilities. Unfortunately, his life is not only hard but very short. As we all know, if feral dogs aren’t rehabilitated at a young age, they die quickly.

So, what is your idea of freedom? Every form requires some kind of sacrifice. That is the point we so often overlook when we’re painting our protest signs and complaining about taxes. If we want to enjoy the benefits of living in an organized society, then we have to do our part to keep it organized. The alternative is the feral dog.

I realize that I haven’t posted a drink recipe in a while (actually, I haven’t posted in a while) so I present to you my Tang martini. Happily, it doesn’t use Tang in the cocktail, just on the rim of the glass.

2 parts Absolut Citron
1 part pulp-free fresh orange juice
1 part Cointreau
Tang powdered drink mix

Chill a martini glass and rim with fresh lemon and Tang. Shake vodka, OJ and Cointreau vigorously with ice and strain into glass.

Well, we tried one of the hot, new restaurants in Chicago: Sable at the new Palomar Hotel. It has been trending high on Urbanspoon, as well as written up in Chicago Reader and Time Out Chicago. So, I called and got a table after work, and off we went on Friday evening.

The Palomar is a Kimpton Hotel, and the executive chef, Heather Terhune, was responsible for the Atwood Cafe, down the street at The Burnham, another Kimpton property. I’ve eaten at the Atwood a couple of times, and always enjoyed it. However, the whole executive chef idea makes me nervous in general, since the organizational structure removes the chef from the stove. I believe that my suspicions in this regard are justified, for reasons I will now provide.

The place looks hip when you walk through the door: dark wood, faux suede fabrics, cork, and some funky 70′s wallpaper above the kitchen. Contemporary with a touch of retro. Nice, but nothing earth-shattering. What was an immediate turn-off was the mirrored surface behind our booth. For those unfortunate enough to sit in the chairs, the effect was more disconcerting than having the wrong prescription in your eyeglasses (see photo.) That blob to the right of Laura? That’s me, taking the picture. And believe me, this is compounded as the drinks flow. I’m not sure who came up with that idea, but I’m pretty sure they haven’t eaten in the restaurant.

I can echo the review from the Chicago Reader: this seems to be more of a cocktail place than anything. Even though I could not secure a table at 7:00, when I arrived at 6:30 the restaurant was basically empty. It did eventually fill, but there wasn’t much of a hurry.

I started with a cocktail called The Bridal Shower, which combined vodka, rhubarb syrup and Campari. It was good – a commendable mix – but I was definitely not in the mood for it, and switched to a glass of Cerdon du Bugey. The wine selection seemed pretty good, albeit a bit pricey. But hey, it is downtown Chicago. An Argyle Pinot Noir was a good complement to my dinner.

The food was really inconsistent. We started with mussels in broth and found a number of them were spoiled. Otherwise they were good, but nothing special. My scallion hush puppies were like eating plain corn meal they were so dry. And the girls order deviled eggs – not my favorite – and both agreed they were only passable. Again, nothing special. That was followed by a delicious tomato cucumber salad, dressed in a tomato vinaigrette and topped with roasted peanuts. Sandi and I had flatbreads for dinner: mine a glazed pork belly and hers a mushroom and asparagus combination. They were both tasty but mine left me feeling heavy after eating just half of it.

The most disappointing aspect of the evening was the service. It was really inattentive. In fact, I would call it a deal-breaker and it will keep me from trying Sable a second time.

Back to my initial assertion, I think Sable really suffered from execution issues. Whether that is due to the absence of the chef, or just the absence of simple passion, I didn’t get the feeling that anyone was invested in creating a great dining experience. That, coupled with the fact that it wasn’t cheap, pretty much insures that my future efforts will be finding other places to patronize.