Reading: Private Empire: Exxon-Mobile and American Power – Steve Coll

When the oil tanker Exxon Valdez went aground in Alaska’s Prince William Sound in 1989, releasing more than 240,000 barrels of crude into a pristine environment, there was more behind it than an alcoholic captain. Exxon had downsized 40% of its personnel in a cost-cutting spree that included safety and environmental departments. At the same time the Reagan administration had downsized the coast guard as part of its near-fanatic belief in privatization and less government. The disaster thus was worse than it might have been, both in unpreparedness and in speed of response. The heartbreaking consequences of this accident were an environmental nightmare, despoiling the Sound and its teeming variety of life for years to come. And, as Alexander Cockburn pointed out in The Nation, even if the ship had made it safely, the oil it carried would still have ended up polluting our life system.

Introducing his book with the Valdez story, Coll goes on to a brief history of Exxon. At its peak Standard Oil controlled 90% of the U.S. oil market. In 1911 the Supreme Court broke up the oil giant on anti-trust grounds. It became Esso, then Enco and later, Humble Oil before settling on Exxon in 1973. The climate at the company strayed not far from the ethic of founder John D. Rockefeller, characterized by discipline, rigor, technological research and unsentimental competition, with a strong dose of a priggish Presbyterianism. Exxon was quite nearly a cult.

Lee Raymond, chair and CEO, had a corporate jet at his disposal, body guards, a winter home in Palm City, Florida, an 8600 square foot home in Dallas, a $3.8 million dollar spread in Palm Springs, California, a $7 million dollar get away in Arizona… you get the picture. Member in good standing of the 1%. For entertainment he chased a little white ball, that he had hit with a stick, around sprawling, manicured lawns and, when he caught up to it, he hit it again (sorry Todd, I couldn't resist that). Also he shot feathered creatures from the sky, sometimes in company of Richard Cheney. I guess that’s fun. Humiliating and badgering underlings was another favorite activity but that would be business, not pleasure. It earned him the nickname, “Iron Ass” as he created a climate of terror and deference in the workplace. Mixing the two though is not forbidden as Raymond and spouse traveled together, he taking care of business then joining her for the shopping. They have quite an art collection, it is said – and a lot of wall space.

Raymond’s predecessor as well as mentor, Lawrence Rawl, together rejected the “environmentalism” of Exxon from the 50-60s, however limited that may have been. They also went on a cost-cutting spree that included eliminating 75% of their 1300 employees in the Manhattan headquarters building, selling the building for $400 million and relocating to Dallas. The cost-cutting also axed the aforementioned environmental staff. Raymond’s undisputed brilliance and prodigious memory were unquestionably in the service of the corporation's bottom line, as all good CEOs, by definition, are.

With the ending of colonialism and the fall of the Soviet Union came a nationalism that, even among corrupt leaders, precluded the oil companies from ownership of new oil fields. Competition from Russia and China had its effect also, creating a loss of major fields and fewer possibilities for gaining new ones. Oil company stock prices are affected by “booked reserves”, oil they already own or have under contract. Over one billion barrels have to be booked each year to avoid the appearance of shrinking value. Exxon used tar sands oil in their press releases and other promotional materials to inflate stock value – not illegal, since they left tar sands off the required annual Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) reports. Tar sands is actually a mining rather than a drilling operation and as such is not booked reserves to the SEC. It showed though an Exxon willingness to fudge numbers to its advantage.

The situation of shrinking reserves and a sudden drop in oil prices in the 90s, created by dissension among OPEC members, led to a flurry of oil company mergers. Lee Raymond found a company who had what they lacked, booked reserves. Some of Mobil’s holdings were in unstable regions which necessitated dealing with corrupt and violent governments, maneuvering between civil war factions and the complication of human rights violations. Coll portrays Exxon, in its Nigerian and Indonesian operations as caught between a rock and a hard place. True, management was focused on profit and public statements such as,” Exxon is not the Red Cross.”, displayed a definite insensitivity but, as Coll sees it, Exxon was not explicitly complicit in human rights violations.

In Dallas Raymond had a neighbor, Dick Cheney of Haliburton. This relationship came in handy. When the Bush administration was appointed by the Supreme Court Raymond had a powerful ally he could drop in on whenever he was in Washington and needed a favor. Not that he had to coerce Cheney for the ex-Haliburton CEO fully embraced the corporate ethos, soon to fall into even more favor with Bush appointments to the court. Later Raymond, and other conservatives, were privately disenchanted with U.S. floundering in Iraq. But in the beginning they were quite pleased, ¾ of oil company campaign contributions having gone to the GOP. And Iraq offered an opportunity for enhancing those booked reserves. Raymond served on the Cabinet Task Force Cheney created to advise on energy policy. Environmentalists raged about the secrecy and exclusivity but got nowhere, business-as-usual in Cheney World. The resulting recommendations, given the makeup of the Task Force, were predictably based on energy company “needs”. It was meant to lay the ground for policy and legislation favorable to the oil sector. Cheney and Raymond kept each other informed, both meeting often with heads of state and international movers and shakers. Presumably Cheney had no problem with Raymond’s statement that his first loyalty was to Exxon, not the United States. Cheney and Raymond were also joined at the hip when it came to climate change denial.

The title of Coll’s book, Private Empire: ExxonMobil and American Power, ties the two together, as does the content, no great surprise to critics of capitalism. To the international corporation the U.S. government is merely a tool to be used when needed, lobbied but otherwise ignored when not, just another employee. Cheney/Bush would find nothing offensive in this attitude. They were merely on sabbatical from the corporate world, come to straighten out the misguided sentimentalists who saw government as representative of the people.

Coll goes on to discuss Exxon holdings and adventures in Equatorial Guinea and Chad. Exxon took great risks in its quest to secure oil, and one can hardly withhold admiration for their persistence and business acumen. But the dark side, for both oil company and U.S. government, is that this quest often meant dealing with and tolerating horrific human rights violators. Some career diplomats may have had misgivings and sincerely wished to guide policy in humane directions but from the top there was little of that. Recall that Reagan, in his campaign against Carter, made the chilling promise that his foreign policy “would not be hampered by any human rights baggage.” Money seems always to trump humane concerns, and the problem is systemic. When the dictator of Equatorial Guinea opened a bank account a shoe’s throw from the White House, and began making monthly cash deposits in the millions, bank officials of course were thrilled. That the depositor regularly presided over torture sessions, used murder and intimidation routinely to maintain his rule may have made some executives squirm a bit but utlimately was not relevant. Just business, as they say in the Mafia. Besides, had the bank refused, the self-appointed President could have just gone down the street to a different bank.

On at least two occasions, Coll claims that President Bush took an interest in human rights, providing one example in Equatorial Guinea where military training was withheld. He accepts the questionable assumption that the U.S. is interested in promoting democracy. This is only accurate in the limited sense of corporate, plutocratic-style “democracy” as exists in the U.S. The “free market” comes up. always tied rhetorically to democracy, as if they were intrinsically inseparable. It is necessary, reading this book, to keep in mind that the author was a journalist at the Washington Post for 20 years. Noam Chomsky’s claim that no one rises to “responsible” levels in government nor mainstream media circles who has not internalized the values of the master is confirmed in Coll’s Exxon history. It is permissible to critique capitalist practices around the edges but non-hierarchical alternatives are off the table, you could even say, unthinkable.

That said, the book provides an interesting history of the company, some of its workers, practices and adventures, as its account of a hilarious Greenpeace raid on Exxon headquarters in Irving, Texas. Exxon's response demonstrates how any challenge to such a company must factor in the deep pockets that allow an unleashing of aggressive lawyers to defend company interests. These actions also send a message to other parties contemplating such a challenge. The intrigue involved in dealings with post-Soviet Russia, the CIA, revolution, dictatorship, government regulation, competition…and sobering facts like, the U.S. consumes 5 million barrels a day of the black magic.

This hodge-podge of fascinating material is ominously bookended between the Valdez disaster and the BP oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. ExxonMobil, and the other companies, like to paint BP as atypical, reckless and irresponsible, implying of course that they aren't. And, to a point, the criticism is valid, until we learn that in a much underreported story, a burst ExxonMobil pipeline spilled more than a million gallons in the eastern coastal waters of Nigeria. This only ten days after the Gulf spill began.

Adding to the shame of these predictable accidents, many oil companies joined together, led by ExxonMobil, spending millions to cloud the climate change debate. Despite not one of 928 peer-reviewed science journal articles deviating from the consensus on climate change, the oil companies were able to convince or at least confuse the public, via a complicit media, that there is no scientific consensus. Coll comments that many of these executives will live to regret their repugnant actions as the devastating consequences of denial arise in the not so distant future.

Coll has a section on how the fall of the Soviet Union opened many opportunities for the fabled entrepreneur. The form this took in Russia was of the wild west variety, blurring the already blurry distinction between capitalist and gangster. Economically the Soviet Union had been remarkably equalitarian but with the dissolution came a huge transfer of wealth to an elite, an oligarchy of billionaires. In keeping with Newton’s Law, for every new billionaire, there was created a corresponding number of new peasants. And since Russia had large oil and gas deposits, came soon sniffing the hounds from the west who, to get at that oil, must dispose of any scruples that might interfere with business. Under Putin, there is great reluctance to deal with the international corporations yet that is where the expertise lies. As of this writing Russia is approaching a deal to drill in their very challenging northern waters, not a comforting thought, even if rigorous safety standards were in place. Coll concludes that the economic system is largely held hostage by big oil and predicts no great shift toward alternative energy while they wield the power they do.

As was made clear by the Exxon statement, “We are not the Red Cross.”, we cannot expect an oil company, of their own volition, to pursue alternative fuels or policies less harmful to life on earth, to concern themselves with human rights or other consequences of their pursuits. But we can insist that we, citizens of a democracy, not they, will decide what the creation of a just and environmentally sustainable world requires. If this means fewer billionaires, well, we must buck up and make the sacrifice.

All Praise the Exalted 1%: The Trans-Pacific Partnership

Thanks to a leak by the group, Public Citizen, we now have access to some of the contents of the next international trade agreement, The Trans-Pacific Partnership (TPP). This deal is being reviewed and commented on by 600 some corporations with the usual representation of environmental, labor and social-justice concerns – zero. This corporate wet-dream is so secret that even the few U.S. senators who’ve had a peek are not allowed to publically discuss its provisions.

And provisions it has. The three emphasized in the Public Citizen leak are pretty scary. They limit regulation of corporations; incentivize out-sourcing of U.S. jobs; create an alternative legal system to circumvent domestic law, such as the Clean Air Act. Corporations could be exempted from federal, state and local law designed to protect health and environment, with no recourse, no appeal. Today a tiny percentage of food is inspected and even then contamination is often found. Under TPP there would be exemptions where imported food could not be inspected at all. This is the 1% run amok. Their obsession with secrecy is natural for if the public had an unbiased view of the TPP then there could be, they fear, a reaction that would threaten the position of power that corporations have cultivated and carefully hidden over many years - hidden behind a mask of patriotism and the profusion of “free market” propaganda delivered by the corporate(!) media.

The Right Wing domination of media discourse in the United States is no accident. Telling is their silence in the face of what is usually shrilly decried, the threat of loss of national sovereignty. It used to be the U.N. spearheading an international communist world government conspiracy that most worried the Right but now that there is an actual international conspiracy to do just that, they seem unconcerned. One could be forgiven for suspecting that the former fear of communism was a bit of a fraud, that the fear wasn’t loss of freedom represented by communism but of the aspect of that ideology that enshrined cooperation and sharing. It made no pretense, however, of freeing us from hierarchy except in a distant, hazy, future utopia.

The following two TPP statements could hardly be more divergent, the first by the Obama Administration and the second by the group Public Citizen:

Obama: INCREASING AMERICAN EXPORTS, SUPPORTING AMERICAN JOBS

“President Obama announced in November 2009 the United States’ intention to participate in the Trans-Pacific Partnership (TPP) negotiations to conclude an ambitious, next-generation, Asia-Pacific trade agreement that reflects U.S. economic priorities and values. Through this agreement, the Obama Administration is seeking to boost U.S. economic growth and support the creation and retention of high-quality American jobs by increasing exports in a region that includes some of the world’s most robust economies and that represents more than 40 percent of global trade. The Obama Administration, working in close partnership with Congress and with a wide range of stakeholders, is seeking to conclude a strong agreement that addresses the issues that U.S. businesses and workers are facing in the 21st century.”

Public Citizen: TPP - Corporate Power Tool of the 1%

“The Trans-Pacific Partnership (TPP) “free trade” agreement is a stealthy policy being pressed by corporate America, a dream of the 1 percent, that in one blow could:

offshore millions of American jobs,
free the banksters from oversight,
ban Buy America policies needed to create green jobs and rebuild our economy,

decrease access to medicine,
flood the U.S. with unsafe food and products,
and empower corporations to attack our environmental and health safeguards.

Closed-door talks are on-going between the U.S. and Australia, Brunei, Canada, Chile, Japan, Mexico, New Zealand, Peru, Singapore, Malaysia and Vietnam; with other countries, including China, and Japan potentially joining later. 600 corporate advisors have access to and in-put on the text, while the public, Members of Congress, journalists, and civil society are excluded. And so far what we know about what's in there is very scary!”

So, who are we to believe? Maybe we should look at what was said promoting other trade agreements such as the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) and the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade (GATT). It was claimed, for both treaties, that U.S. jobs would be created and other benefits would be lavished on the citizenry (essentially as in the pro-TPP statement above). The AFL-CIO claims that anti-investment actions taken by states to oppose apartheid in South Africa would, under these trade agreements, be illegal. So attempts to pressure brutal dictatorships with sanctions could be disallowed by corporate courts that lie beyond and can over-rule representative government. Treaty wording which leaves production methods off-limits would make it illegal to sanction countries who engage in child-labor, even slave-labor practices. U.S. law protecting dolphins by restricting fishing practices have already been ruled against. U.S. corporations have filed suit, under these agreements, that call for overturning citizen initiatives to protect the environment. The demand is for government reimbursement to corporations for profits that these initiatives prevent. Quebec, for example has banned fracking… and is being sued, under article 11. of NAFTA, by a mining company who claims $250 million in lost profits.

It is expected that Obama will call for TPP fast-tracking, as Clinton did with NAFTA, to reduce debate and scrutiny. Under pressure from environmentalists and Labor, Clinton called for “side agreements” on labor and environment, toothless verbal décor aimed to placate constituents of these issues. That they are “side” agreements without enforcement mechanisms reveal the corporate agenda, to return us to the good ol’ days where rivers, oceans and air were handy and inexpensive dumping grounds for the by-products of profit-chasing. Implications for our health and life system, accelerated climate change, severely diminished if not disappeared democracy, toxified air, soil, water… all grave and devestating consequences, though profitable to the few, should TPP be enacted.

Let me close with a quote: Naomi Klein, addressing the founding convention of UNIFOR, a new mega union created by several Canadian unions, had this to say about climate change: It’s not an “issue” for you to add to the list of things to worry about. It is a civilizational wake up call. A powerful message – spoken in the language of fires, floods, storms and droughts -- telling us that we need an entirely new economic model, one based on justice and sustainability. It’s telling us that when you take you must also give, that there are limits past which we cannot push, that our future health lies not in digging ever deeper holes but in digging deeper inside ourselves – to understand how ALL our fates are interconnected.

Oh, and one last thing. We need to make this transition, like, yesterday. Because our emissions are going in exactly the wrong direction and there’s very little time left.

Quit CWIP, It's a Rip!

The Georgia legislature, in its great (yawn) wisdom, saw fit to grant Georgia Power the, ah… power to charge us ratepayers, in advance, for two nuclear reactors. The 16 billion dollar plus reactors are under construction at Plant Vogtle on the Savannah River just south of Augusta. CWIP (Construction Work in Progress) was passed as the Georgia Nuclear Energy Financing Act.

In testifying at the committee level, many citizens argued against the proposal brought by a legislator, known technically as a lapdog. One participant's testimony was rather brief, to wit: The apparently irresistible lobbying and campaign contributions that seduced national legislators into signing onto privatization and deregulation schemes over the past decades brought us to the economic melt-down we are now just beginning to enjoy. The push for SB31 is more of the same. I hope you’ll consider that history and two other things in your deliberations: Nuclear power is the wrong horse; This bill is an industry fantasy and a consumer rip-off. Truer words were never spoken.

One of the committee members, demonstrating the quality of that legislative wisdom, dismissed such arguments, pointing out that they were, “just anti-nuclear”. I used to think that arguments should be judged or refuted based on their merit or lack of such, not on whether those advancing the argument have opinions contrary to yours on other issues. I humbly, and gratefully, stand corrected.

Many of the arguments put forth by the opposition predicted that, as with past nuclear projects, the cost estimates would very likely not coincide with the actual costs. Another way of saying this is that the rip-off of ratepayers will be greater than originally stated. Down the road a bit now, the legislation passed in 2009, this has proven all too true, to the tune already of more than 1.6 billion U.S. dollars. That's about 4 wind generators which could operate almost immediately, not 16 years in the future, just in over-runs. The project is also fifteen months behind schedule.

When activists opposing the original Plant Vogtle offered predictions that proved similarly correct, no note was apparently taken to, in future, attend to those who in the past have been shown to be credible and be skeptical toward those who in the past have been shown to be not, to in fact lie. The original plant costs were more than ten times over cost estimates. We’re not talking petty cash here. Those estimates were in the billions. One theory was that the anti-folks weren’t listened to because they didn’t wear three-piece suits nor display $200 haircuts. A few tried that and it didn’t seem to matter so maybe it has more to do with campaign contributions and/or ideology. Could be. Maybe that’s what they mean by legislative wisdom.

The Public Service Commission (my, that sounds so uplifting, so servicing… reminds me of Reagan calling nuclear warheads peacekeepers) is made up of five commissioners who are elected statewide. Statewide campaigns are expensive to run. Gee, I wonder where folks get the money to run for such an office and I wonder if successful candidates would feel beholden to, ah… service whomever it was who funded their campaign? And would said funders continue to fund campaigns of those who didn’t provide proper service? Like, for example, if Georgia Power requested a rate increase, ever so politely – would PSC then, in effect, stand for Power Service Commission? So far it sadly has. Some citizens advocate public financing of elections so that serving the funders would mean what it says, Public Service Commission. Of course those citizens probably are anti-nuclear so we can safely dismiss that point of view.

News Flash! The PSC recently required Georgia Power to add 525 megawatts of solar energy to their energy system. This was a 3-2 vote, confusing everyone who sees PSC, with ample history to support such a view, as being in the pocket of the industry. Georgia Power, in it's twenty year plan had appallingly envisioned zero solar so this is significant. I mean, solar over nuclear is an obvious no-brainer but not for those who call the shots in Georgia, until now. It has been suggested that Georgia Power did not take a stand against this proposal because it is saving its ammo for rate increases down the road to cover the cost over-runs on those nukes and the slip in ratings the company has suffered due to their pursuit of such a dangerous and uneconomical technology. I would venture that company executives are also confident that they can always meet the megawatt requirement with paper shuffling or campaign contributions.

It's not clear why Georgia Power went to the legislature for the CWIP tax (yes, TAX!) when it has rarely had any problem having its way with the PSC. Maybe it just likes to exercise its... power. The legislative vote passed but not by much and some claim that had the vote been delayed a week it would have lost. Guaran-damned-teeing an 11% profit to a corporation, in advance!, tends to leave folks open to charges of corporate welfare. Socialize the risks, capitalize the profits... not a motto easily swallowed even by seasoned ideologues. PSC however was complicit by approving the action. Activists are now attempting to repeal CWIP on the grounds that Georgia Power either deliberately misled the legislature or is incredibly incompetent as shown by its cost over-runs and legal squabbling with contractors. Or both. And the competence of the legislature itself can be called into question for making such a one-sided deal. Even if Georgia Power never completes the plant it still gets the money. There is no provision to share any profits with ratepayers. If we're going to have Socialism let's have it for the people not for business interests. Try www.nonukesyall.org for more information or ways to help out with the Quit CWIP campaign.

One of the primary factors in Ga. Power getting CWIP through the General Assembly was to create a special provision for how the fee would be applied to industrial and commercial users so that their rates wouldn't significantly increase.  They were opposing it like crazy and suddenly their opposition disappeared--once the back room deal was made.  Because it was put into the law using very technical and obtuse language, the average person wouldn't have been able to figure it out.  We did our research and started yelling about it but the fast track they used for moving the bill along gave little time for understanding what had transpired.  I still believe that if we'd had just one more week we would have killed it.  But Ga. Power's 70+ lobbyists made sure that it was rushed through in a completely unprecedented fashion.

It remains to be seen how the other increases due to Vogtle get applied to industrial and commercial users via the PSC.  My bet is they will get a special deal, once again, thus silencing that powerful arm of opposition.

Art Trip: Two Days in NYC

               The Golden Age,  Joachim Wtewael, 1566-1638 - Metropolitan Museum of Art

Day 1.

Leaving the tiny but expensive apartment on east 90^th, I walked west, glancing down the always impressive Park Avenue, making my way to the Guggenheim on 5^th Avenue. A fairly short line and I was in, senior discount, $18. Normally one stands at that point in the atrium, the spiral walkway there to take you past whatever show is hanging. Or take the elevators to start at the top - the last exhibit I saw here was abstraction from the 50s, with stand-out, drop-dead DeKoonings.

This time James Turrell has commandeered the space, masterly and expensively sealing off the atrium with what appear to be six unblemished slightly concave sections, resembling the inside of a gigantic Japanese rice paper lantern. There is a specially constructed circular area of seating, allowing you to lean back and enjoy the subtle lighted surface overhead reaching up to the skylight. For a long time it was a light yellow. When nothing happened beyond my own perception (plenty, I know, the point of much of Turrell's work) I moved on up the ramp. Before I had gotten far the color changed dramatically to a rich blue violet. Now I realized it had to be projected light. At the top of the third level there seemed to be a scrim of some kind, filtering the upper levels but I was never sure it wasn't just on my eyeball.

Going up the spiral walkway I was soon behind the finely crafted temporary walls of the installation, sort of backstage. I asked one of the guards if I was looking at sheetrock but she didn't didn't know. I was hesitant to touch it since touching the art always gets you yelled at and it had that rice paper look of fragility. There were other Turrell works, the first a tall narrow opening bright with natural light in an otherwise unlit room. A security guard stationed nearby seemed part of the exhibit, the whole long space being subdued and otherwise empty. Along the way you could duck into an exhibit of Kandinsky which I found as engaging as the Turrell. The alcoves along the Frank Loyd Wright spiral were freshly painted a muted yellow and since there were no paintings hanging where one expects Chagalls and Frankenthallers, Raushenbergs or Johns, the space became charged with the central focus of Turrell's art, the act of seeing. I haven't heard the artist address this but the act of perception is not but a step from the state of being, the focus of much art since the Impressionists.

Many of the Turrell works in this show could be illustrations for psychology text books where perceptual set-ups trick you into seeing what is not there, or the reverse of what is there. The Lichenstein “house” outside the High Museum in Atlanta is a Pop Art version that depends on the viewer moving to get the dynamic effect. Turrell controls the light in a space, usually dimming it and projecting bright shapes into a corner, which from a certain angle take on the appearance of a floating cube. I heard Turrell speak at the High Museum once. He was showing a slide of a piece he did in the Whitney Museum and I was embarrassed to realize I had peeked into that room, thought it empty and moved on. On another occasion I saw a piece that appeared to be a rectangular opening in the wall. You were peering into a very ambiguous space, no way to tell how deep or even if it was really an opening. It was baffling how he achieved that effect. The guy has one of those minds that can assimilate science and utilize optical physics to create puzzling and complex pieces.

As you ascend the spiral walkway you come upon a sign indicating a wait-time of as much as 45 minutes. I spent twenty minutes waiting to get in a darkened room that a guard allowed about 8 people to enter at a time. On the far wall was a horizontal rectangle flanked by low lights. An inside guard wouldn't allow me to get close to it so I wasn't sure whether it was an opening or a mounted flat plane. I stood there waiting for something to happen, aware that in staring at the dark space I was automatically trying to interpret and there was some movement I'm sure attributable to my eyes. In the main space I kept thinking I was seeing a scrim of some kind across the top of the third layer, giving a soft-focus to the further layers but I really couldn't tell if this was on my eye or in the space. If in the space it was very impressively done. That is a very large space to hang something without creating folds or other imperfections that catch the light and so reveal themselves. With the room experience I felt rather let down. I wanted to mime yawning for those in line, considerably longer now, when I left for I really wouldn't recommend much waiting for that piece. But I shyly left it alone. The piece was about perception but more interesting to me were the conversations I heard around me in the line, the dynamics of strangers meeting that I half attended to as I read out of the book I carry for just such occasions. Many others of course “read” from their iPhones. Someone from Arizona talked his way into cutting the line, saying his son had gone in and hadn't come out. The couple behind me happened also to be from Arizona so the three of them explored commonalities. The line-cutter being not so skilled at listening as talking, kept interrupting the woman who had a slight stutter which facilitated his narcissism.

Being a painter myself I found the Kandinsky show appealing. Turrell is a sculptor and sculpture, according to one artist, is defined as, “what you bump into when you back up to look at a painting”. I forget what wit said that. For all of Turrell's genius with materials and scientific understanding I found myself thinking that I've seen more interesting light shows at Rock concerts on youtube, Phish for example. Gorsch, what a Philistine!

I ended my Guggenheim sojourn by finding a seat at the atrium base, experiencing the meditative state one more time and then heading for the Metropolitan Museum of Art just down the road. I made immediately for the modern wing, walked into a room and looked to see who would be first to catch my eye. Not surprisingly, Picasso. But there were plenty of others before my legs started telling me to head on back to my daughter's apartment. Paul Klee for example, more Kandinsky, Matisse, the lush and wonderful Modigliani.

I took a quick look at a current exhibit of Civil War photographs and paintings. I was surprised to learn that the famous Brady actually took very few of the photos he is known for. I was always frustrated by my family's early photos. There were usually a few people posing with great space all around, giving little sense of the people. Whomever took the photos had no sense of composition or portraiture and this is true of many of the civil war pictures. They were documenting momentous historical events but seemed to think it was enough to simple point and shoot. One notorious and macabre shutter-bug though posed bodies into tableau, sometimes using the same bodies in different scenes. I had just reviewed a Civil War book called Shiloh (see the blogpost below this one) so was expecting to see some of the horror I had read about. Aside from some close ups of Lincoln, Sherman, Grant etc; it was easy to skim the show. Well, photos do capture a moment in history but you have to work to get to that when the photography is primitive. Not so the paintings, Homer standing out here. Many of the works were contemporary with rather than scenes of the war but, so claims the curator, registered the ominous rumblings of war indirectly.

Passing through the Egyptian section I was fascinated to see Klee-like doodling on one of those bibs they put on their sarcophagi. Slowed only briefly though I made it to the (north) American Wing, wanting to see that huge Washington Crossing the Delaware. Speaking of sculpture I'm always interested in the way sculptors of busts create an intriguing illusion. By making what look like drilled holes with a little wedge for pupils, when you look at those eyes and step slowly back the eyes, at a certain distance, spring into an animated, “alive” state, that is quite impressive. I never heard this referred to in all the Art History nor studio courses I had in Art School but just stumbled upon it in the Boston Museum in 2001. This was just a month after 911 when the plane was eerily, scantily occupied and Logan Airport was still suffering the malevolent stain of those confused and/or used “operatives”.

Anyway, I spotted a room, just past the Gilbert Stuart Washington portrait, with Sargent, Eakins, Chase and Whistler, a grouping of their full length society portraits, each exquisite and individual in their style. The full length portrait was almost always twice as high as wide and noticing this led me to do a series of full length fictional portraits that were three times high as wide that carried on, intermittently, from 1986 to about 2000 (see www.thinkspeak.net). But that's just an aside. I went on to see Delaware and in the same room, some grand George Inness paintings and a spectacular view of an Indian village on a river below towering majestic mountains. This painting by Bierstadt is full of presumably authentic detail and supremely exaggerated terrain, a sort of composite of grandeur to dazzle the eastern market of the time. And this was about the time my legs started their complaining so, past the Egyptian stuff again and I stepped outside into a pouring rain.

Day 2.

Some productive writing in the morning then, after my shoes had dried, a streets-of-New-York walk to the Met again. This time I inquire about a Valesquez I saw promoted as on loan. I was given a map of an area covering European Painting 1250-1800. On the way to the Valesquez I got stopped by my old friend, Tiepolo. His drawing remains on the painting in the form of a dancing arabesque line that has always captivated me. The face in Valesquez's portrait is fine but the figure seems hurried. Later I see some Valesquez in the permanent collection that is way better, or consistent, not just excellent in the face. I notice the area is divided between Spanish, Italian and French on the one side and English, Dutch, German on the other. I go pretty rapidly through the medieval stuff, though I do love those landscape backgrounds and the portraits, both for their historicity and painterliness. I think of Hockney's book that claims that portrait painters of this period began to use projection and lens and it is a convincing argument, the later stuff being quite realistic, photo-like, not in color but in accuracy of depiction. I float through, high on this stuff, lingering over whatever stops me... two oval works by Tiepolo, figures on clouds surrounded by a gold leaf sky; LaTour and Carravagio, Titian, a beautiful portrait of Michelangelo by one of his students, very abstract, the head and hand rendered precisely but the figure and background only suggested. There's an impressive, large painting by an Italian woman i've never heard of and whose name I misplaced. It depicts a woman fainting in the act of petitioning royalty, quite an unheard of thing in the day, not the fainting, the petitioning by a woman... just as the painting by a woman of the time was quite rare.

I slip off to find a cafe and coffee, write in the ol' journal and return for the English, Dutch, German side. Knocked out immediately by a Bruegel, one of the four-season works, then a follower of Bosch. I took a course in grad school on 17^th Century Dutch Art so these are old buds here. There's a painting by Michiel Sweerts called Clothing the Naked, of a remarkably rendered man compassionately handing a homeless and clothesless person a white garment. The artist had a reputation as a kind and caring individual and he, toward the end of his life, traveled to India and served the poor. The work reminds me of a scene I witnessed on North Avenue in Atlanta. I was driving by in heavy traffic and only glimpsed it but a black man was ministering to a homeless white man who was so touched he was sobbing. The black man was holding him by the shoulders and gently comforting. It was biblical tableau I tell ya.

Next I came upon a painting I had noted in the past but still it happily delighted me. By Joachim Wtewael it is oil on copper, about the size of a piece of typing paper but filled with such painstaking detail and sensitive skill it could make you cry. It's called The Golden Age. Figures fill and cavort in about every space in an expertly lit and composed landscape, all nude, genitals carefully covered except in the case of a few children. There is nothing erotic or hedonistic about the nudity, a utopia described in seductive color. The great thing I discovered, the Met has just about every work on their website. I wanted to show my daughter this painting and I found I could call it up by searching the artist.

Other artists of note in this collection are Van Dyke, Ruebens, Gainsborough, Reynolds, Hals, Ruisdale, Vermeer and, pinnacle of civilization for me that day, Rembrandt. I've never appreciated him so much as with this visit, he just glows with incredible refinement and depth. Oh, I was looking at a Ruebens and a man at the next painting was so excited he had to drag me over to share it with him. And it was worth sharing... a “sketch” of a swirling crowded scene, a Rubens trademark, people, some mounted on masterly drawn horses, sketchy and unfinished, the central area being colored so that it faded off into the muted monochrome of the rest, It had that potent feel that is so hard to describe and it resembled a shallow relief in its dark and light treatment.

Noticing it was 4pm, I still had maybe an hour so I headed over to see the Cezannes, passing up the crowded Punk Fashion show with not much hesitation. There are marvelous Van Goghs of course, and Picassos to knock your socks off but Cezanne, another of those monumental individuals who somehow seemed to see into the heart of things and gave us a glimpse in the work they left.

Ah, a breathtaking two days. And to top off my visit I wrote a song on the bus to LaGuardia, Keep It Goin, the words tumbling into my notebook from the stop-motion reality assembling for me out the window.

When Warriors Meet, Shiloh, 1862 by Winston Groom

The war between the states, as some prefer to call the U.S. Civil War, is what first comes to mind when I encounter George Santayana's quip, “Those who ignore history are condemned to repeat it.” This applies to war in general, that when each new one comes along we seem to be unaware of the carnage involved and skip gaily into the glorious fray - well, we send the professionals along with the young and naïve as cannon fodder, being too busy (as Dick Cheney said about his failure to serve in Vietnam), to actually attend ourselves.

Another application of the phrase is to military strategy. Winston Groom mentions in his book on the battle of Shiloh that toward the end of the war the military leadership began to realize that Napoleonic tactics were no longer appropriate, given advances in weaponry. Soldiers of both sides were marching smartly across open fields into the jaws of death, as it were. Unfortunately the lesson came less from revulsion at the cost in lives and limbs than from the realization, at least in the south, that they were running out of warm bodies to fling into the caldron.

When World War I. Raised its ugly head, it brought us carnage on an even grander scale. The great military minds had suffered yet another bout of amnesia, utilizing once again Napoleonic strategies, marching old-fashioned soft bodies into new fangled hard contraptions such as machine guns, poison gas and artillery of unprecedented size and capacity. One wonders what went on in the military colleges. Did they study dusty tomes from the ancient past, welcoming innovation of weaponry but punishing as heretical any corresponding innovations in strategy? Santayana suggests that this is to be expected even though West Point could not have been ignorant of history. Perhaps it is selective history that is the problem.

Then there are the politicians, the statesmen (mostly men, yeah) whose history reading is selective indeed, filtered through a fine screen of rosy if deadly patriotism and/or corruption... or sociopathic dysfunction.

So, enough editorializing. Groom's book covers the battle, enlivening the chess analogy often employed in Civil War books, to tedious effect, by selecting characters of all ranks and following them through the battle, characters who left memoirs, letters, diaries and of course those who went on to become famous, failed business man Grant to General Grant to President Grant. Other notables in the battle were General Sherman of march-to-the-sea fame, Henry Stanley who later “found Doctor Livingston”, Ambrose Bierce, later a popular writer who disappeared in Mexico, and infamous calvary officer, Nathan Bedford Forest, whose name was removed from a street in Atlanta when finally black politicians came into prominence in the 1970s and resented his involvement with the Klu Klux Klan.

One anecdote illustrating Forest's reputation: after the Confederate retreat Sherman proceeded to engage in a little harassment. He came upon Forest's calvary unit who immediately attacked. Forest got out beyond his troops and suddenly was surrounded by Yankees trying to kill him. He reached down, scooped up a federal officer and using him as a shield, made his escape. The man was apparently fearless, a definite candidate to have a southern street named after him. In retrospect some offered that the war might have had a different outcome had Forest been given command.

Some ink is spent rehearsing the climate leading up to the war. There were heartless slavers and zealous abolitionists, anti-and pro-secessionists, slave and free states and territories. Gore Vidal, in his usual iconoclastic mischievousness, has suggested that many lives would have been saved and suffering averted had the North simply accepted secession, adding that slavery would have died out naturally. Grant called the Union the greatest form of government ever achieved and it was worth war, in his mind, to prevent its dissolution. He believed, or at least said, that democracy itself was at stake. I have heard more than one person invested in the “southern heritage”, claim that slaves enjoyed their position and were well treated. Others see the conflict as a clash between north and south ruling classes with the average person having little actual investment to defend. Quite a range of opinion on the subject.

Vidal was certainly correct that there was massive death and suffering. Groom depicts horrific stories, gleaned from his sources, of repeated withering assaults, obscene decapitations and carnage from the various, devilish creations of death machinery. Artillery of all kinds, sometimes balls and shot, sometimes nails and chains, thinned the ranks of attackers (thinning the ranks, now there's a euphemism)... the rifles and pistols and bayonets, swords, and, whatever was at hand in a desperate horror show of close quarters combat. The author does a little macabre math, utilizing the fact that a soldier could fire three shots per minute so that the air on the battlefield would have been abuzz with deadly flying metal, 12,000 per minute per brigade... and there were 30 brigades.

Artillery batteries poured devastating fire on troops and attempted to silence each other so that in addition to the metal just mentioned in the air there were cannon balls also aloft. A strange phenomenon was noted that sometimes balls would come bouncing across a field seemingly in slow motion and you could step out of the way and watch it go by. But there were those who would see it coming and impulsively put up their boot to stop it and that miscalculation cost them a foot.

Speaking of limbs, the primitive nature of battlefield medicine meant that the surgeon's saw was the most frequently used tool. Before antibiotics, the prospect of gangrene and death were treated with a liberally applied procedure called amputation. Outside hospital tents there were piles of limbs and hospital boats could be seen chugging downstream with legs and arms regularly being tossed overboard.

Other near unspeakable happenings were fires started by the constant barrage, trapping the screaming wounded in an inferno. On top of that, wild hogs would come foraging, not distinguishing between the dead and the merely wounded.

Not to put too fine a point on it but the soldier victims of foolish politicians were far from enjoying the glittering, honorable glories of combat but rather suffered what Sherman, who surely knew of what he spoke when he said, “War is Hell.”

So, in a nutshell, or a shell casing: a major force of Confederate troops, surprised an equal number of Union troops along the Tennessee River, at first light, June 6, 1862. In the course of a ferocious day of fighting, the Federals were pushed back into a precarious position, bounded by river and swampland. As in most military encounters, inexplicable flukes arose to now advantage one side, now the other. Acts of imbecilic stupidity and awesome bravery in turn had their stupendous effects on both sides. The Federals were certainly advantaged in equipment, having iron-sided boats from which to lob explosives, and heavier artillery but the chaos of a battlefield makes for unpredictable outcomes. The decisive advantage for the Union was probably a 25,000 soldier army which arrived late on the first of the two day battle, which provided fresh troops to fight an exhausted Confederate force.

Groom closes with a synopsis of the subsequent lives of the characters he selected, those who survived. Grant of course became President where a tendency to fall under the spell of charlatans undid him; Bierce disappeared, caught up in the 1913 Mexican revolution; Wallace became the bestselling novelist of the 19th century; Stanley found Livingston; Sherman fled politics for western military operations (another euphemism) and Nathan B. Forest survived to the ripe old age of 56, but not before rising to leadership in the KKK and dissolving it in disgust over its behavior (so claims Groom). It of course arose again when “needed”, like cancer or nuclear power, ever alert for the worst of human corruption to which it can embed and resurrect itself.

Wearing Blinders for Israel

When I drove a taxi part-time while an art student in Milwaukee I learned that a prestigious club barred people of color and Jewish persons. That was kind of shocking to a naïve kid from Michigan's rural upper peninsula, especially since many of my pickups at that club were judges, lawyers, CEOs etc; the naïve kid expecting people of that status to be enlightened. Women were also excluded except in the company of members. So things have changed in the ruling class. From a blatant and crude anti-semitism to a blatant and crude pro-Israeli foreign policy. It has become unthinkable to criticize Israel in mainstream circles. Just ask Jimmy Carter who was promptly attacked by the likes of Nancy Pelosi and vilified by the press generally when he published his book, Peace or Apartheid, that laid out with, apparently dangerous, clarity, the land-grab and human rights injustice going on in a state the U.S. lavishes with annual and mucho bushels of money.

How is it that in only a generation the powers that be have reversed their bigotry? Some suggest that the Israeli lobby, like the NRA, is so organized and well financed that no politician dare take positions that provoke it (see www.IfAmericansKnew.org for an elaboration of this POV). There undoubtedly is some truth in that but Noam Chomsky claims that if you examine the record, whenever a U.S. position clashes with an Israeli position the U.S. position easily trumps. If true, that would mean Israeli policies toward Palestinian land seizures and human rights violations are shared by U.S. planners or at least tolerated so long as they don't interfere with U.S. objectives. So what could these objectives be?

Chomsky, again, has described Israel as a U.S. aircraft carrier. U.S. aircraft carriers are positioned to defend U.S. interests (translation: U.S. corporate interests) and in the middle-east the obvious “interest” is oil. But don't get the idea that corporations are in love with oil, no, they are in love with what oil brings in, money. Just thought I'd clarify that. During the so-called Cold War U.S. foreign policy was aimed at preventing the spread of Godless Communism (translation: any alternative to capitalism). With the dissolution of the Godless hoard U.S. policy has now shifted to... ah, at first, the threat to our way of life represented by evil drug lords but this “enemy” was makeshift and pretty unconvincing though its “failure” had the side effect (maybe the point actually) of keeping the unhappy inhabitants of poverty-adled neighborhoods from organizing around their mutual interests. It took 911 for Reagan's candidate, terrorism, to replace the lost Godless enemy (translation: any alternative to capitalism) for which no budgetary sacrifice is too great, so threatening is it to the survival of “our way of life” (translation: elite rule).

So whether U.S. policy blindly supports Israel due to monolithic lobbyists or New Order Imperialists, there is a story about Israel's creation and evolution, and occupation, that you'll have to travel far from the mainstream to hear. Over in obscure corners of the global newstand, the low-circulation rags not owned by Rubert Murdock et al., you will hear this contrasting story (which relies heavily in fact on a flyer from IfAmericansKnew.org, information which comports generally with other trustworthy sources):

In the late 1800s a radical movement called Zionism began moving Jews into Palestine with the dream of eventually colonizing it. As their numbers increased, especially with anti-semitic and fascist regimes coming into power in Germany, Italy and Spain, and Zionist intent became clear to the inhabitants, tension and violence resulted.

In 1947 the United Nations intervened, granting 55% of the land for a Jewish state despite only 30% of the population by that time being Jewish, owning only 7% of the land. Contrary to mythology, Israeli forces outnumbered Palestinian and Arab combatants and Arab armies intervened only after some thirty Zionist massacres. By war's end Israel occupied 78% of Palestine.

In 1967 Israel conquered still more land in the Six-Day War, taking the Gaza Strip and West Bank. I remember excitedly watching TV coverage of this skirmish which glorified the Israelis and fell head over heels in love with the highly sophisticated Israeli PR machine. Arab and Palestinian representatives allowed on the U.S. media seemed Hollywood-cast villains with their broken English and three-day beards.

International law forbids the taking of territory by force so that these lands were and are illegally occupied. Parts of Egypt were later returned but gains in Syria remain occupied to this day. During the Six-Day War Israel attacked a U.S. ship killing and injuring over 200, obviously an act of war, officially confirmed by a high-level commission chaired by Admiral Thomas Moorer. Our patriotic-when-it-pleases-power media failed to carry this report and the Johnson Administration played down the whole incident, something not likely to happen had an Arab power been the perpetrator.

The Palestinian Intifada of 2000 resulted, according to the folks at IfAmericansKnew.org, from two primary conditions:

the original population of what is now Israel was 96% Muslim and Christian. Those who fled the terror are prohibited from return and those who stayed are subject to systematic discrimination, obviously necessary to maintain an ethnically preferential state.

Israel's military occupation and confiscation of land that, according to the Oslo peace accords, is set aside for a Palestinian state, necessitates a brutal occupation and continuous human rights violation. The Israeli so-called security wall, contrary to statements by U.S. officials like Hillary Clinton, has little to do with security and everything to do with walling off and confiscating Palestinian land. The wall is not on Israel's borders but rather cuts into Palestine, sealing off the best land and water and illegally settling it. The aircraft carrier has so far been correct in its operant assumption that the U.S. will not concern itself with her choice, referencing President Carter's book, of Apartheid over Peace. The attached graphic makes this clearer than all the words I've used in this article.

The Swimming Pool Qs

Anything characterized by high energy, originality, humor and intelligence is bound to get my attention. I was at an annual fund-raising party for an alternative art center called Nexus in about 1986. Touring the studios I kept being distracted from the visual art by some very interesting Rock 'n Roll. I wasn't the only one. A large segment of the crowd was gathered around the Swimming Pool Qs in the courtyard. Once in their vicinity I was there for as long as they would play.

In any field of endeavor certain efforts stand out and the Qs were (are) definitely one helluva group. I've taken every opportunity to be in their musical presence since - most recently at the Inman Park Festival where the audience was dampened and thinned by rain. Sound-wise the instruments were turned up so high the vocal mics couldn't compete without feedback so the singing was way buried. Since I could hardly hear the vocals I focused more on the players, a rewarding experience, if a little hard on the ears. But missing the singing is no small loss. The venue is partially responsible, the stage being on the short side of a narrow tent. That arrangement gives everyone a ringside seat but the sound people failed to take control and the volume drove a few people off.

Unfortunately for the Qs they did not quite, though they came very close, manage to catch the fickle tide of megabuck pop success. They were the opening act for a Lou Reed tour which helped sales on the first album with A & M Records. The second got little promotion and so low sales. Their “failure” has blessed me however with the opportunity to see/hear them in some very intimate venues. I use the term blessed because that experience has always been a near religious one.

The band formed in 1978, with frontman Jeff Calder writing the songs, mostly, and singing many in his gravelly inflection; Bob Elsey playing a siren-song guitar, and the woman with the great name, Anne Richmond Boston, singing like an angel. Drummer Bill Burton was settled in when I first saw them and the original drummer was now playing bass when I last saw them. They'd been through a few bass players, J.E. Garnett coming and going but the core of Jeff, Anne, Bill and Bob remained (remains)... except for Anne who left the group for 16(!) years. This after their two albums with A & M failed the public whimsy and record company promotion test. But as I said, their misfortune was this writer's listening profit. My priority has been to make the art of my choice and, since I'm even less successful than the Qs at dipping into that money stream, my strategy has been to live frugally so as to have the time to do so. That means concerts by those who have caught that tide are not in my budget.

At the Inman Park Festival the Qs were promoting the re-release of the two albums they did for A & M, 1984-86, the self-titled Swimming Pool Qs and Blue Tomorrow. The package I got is a generous and tastefully assembled box including three CDs and a DVD of performances during those years along with an essay by music critic Geoffrey Himes. Photos of the youthful group capture some of their whimsical Dada, one shot depicting them surrounded by Shetland Ponies.

The bonus CD is titled Pow Wow Hour, Rarities 1982-1986. This includes some of the only love songs I've heard the Qs do. But they're far too ironic to do these without tongue-in-cheek. The DVD film, Kickstarter, is credited to drummer Bill Burton. Some of the footage seems to be on the west coast, beach scenes, I suppose shot near L.A. as they flirted with the fame machine out there.

The record company must have failed to fully promote the group because, as the DVD richly shows, the Qs had all the star ingredients – young, attractive, imaginative and skilled performers, intellgent song-writing, great costumes – didn't seem to be any stinting there, some of those outfits had to be costly. Anne's performance of The Bells Ring is just magical on the DVD. Her voice is unique, sonorous, and expressive. Jeff is no slouch in the singing department but he was (is) very fortunate to have Anne's voice to write to. Apparently she started out as back-up singer but it couldn't have been too long before the group noticed her talent went way beyond and put her up front with Jeff. Calder's witticisms, both between and in the songs themselves, and in banter with Anne, reveal an intelligence that characterizes lyrics, stage presence and musicianship (and their progressive politics). It is a real pleasure to watch any of the performers at any time as they all seem to be constantly giving 100%. They draw from an experience and talent that makes it all seem so easy. And still fun after all these years. The drumming is intense. Bob's guitar playing is typical Qs' standard, casually standing there, complete confidence, but with a half smile as if he's as surprised as you are at what's coming off those strings. And maybe he is. Jeff pounds away at his blue-green electric also, occasionally dashing off a lead lick himself but mostly providing rhythm and vocals reminiscent of, I don't know, Jagger? Steve Earl?.. but mostly Jeff Calder. The Qs are playing Smith's Olde Bar, in Atlanta, June 15 if you want to catch'em.