12/31/2008

The Forgotten Man by Amity Shlaes

Filed under: — peter @ 9:45 am

Over winter break I’ve finally finished reading Amity Shlaes’ revelatory The Forgotten Man: A New History of the Great Depression.

Hurry to the hat sale!

Shlaes’ basic premise is that while FDR’s New Deal had its successes, its biggest impact was in prolonging and exacerbating the nation’s economic crisis. In her words, the New Deal helped make the Depression Great. For a novice in economics like myself, spells of the book were tough sledding, but the bulk of the book was gripping and clear-eyed. Its lessons are certainly noteworthy in the times we live in. (Shlaes has an op-ed piece in today’s Washington Post on this exact topic here)

A few interesting bits gleaned from the text:

-Shlaes again and again returns to the point that the depression was so prolonged because government tinkering and experimental new policies discouraged business growth. Wages were artificially inflated to protect workers, prices and rates were held artificially low to protect consumers, “fairness” regulations made operations unwieldy, and skyrocketing taxes on profit and income punished risk-takers. In his second inaugural address, Roosevelt addressed these policies with the in-no-way-frightening passage: “We are fashioning an instrument of unimagined power for the establishment of a morally better world.” The result? Profit margins narrowed, new jobs dried up, and entrepreneurs sat on their money rather than invest it in such uncertain times. Recovery would have to wait for World War II.

-Apparently everyone wore hats during the Great Depression.

-During long cabinet meetings, FDR liked to make sketches in his notepad. Those sketches later became the basis for Sonic the Hedgehog.

-In fall 1937, after four full years of New Deal policy, too much hope deferred led to another economic collapse, similar to 1929. The Dow hit a new low of 129, unemployment topped 18%, and many of the short-term public works jobs dried up. Many industrialized nations had seen production levels rise since the worldwide collapse of the early 30s, but not the U.S. Today’s New Deal apologists blame this collapse on misguided efforts to scale back spending and balance the budget – balanced budgets being so unreasonable, and all.

-There’s an old saying that provides some telling insight into this period, “the Depression wasn’t that bad if you had a job.” Well, that’s true, unless your job is to lick an elephant’s butthole clean.

-In a wrongheaded attempt to win public and judicial support for the New Deal’s National Recovery Administration (which set in place many misguided business codes intended to protect the public good), government prosecutors looked for a lawsuit that might show the merits of the NRA. When few examples showed up, they ended up going after the Schechter brothers, owners of a small Jewish poultry shop in Brooklyn. The sight of the assembled legal might of the presidency going after a 5-man kosher chicken operation would have been comical had it not been so unjust to the Schechters. The charges of selling unfit meat were dropped with the exception of the case of a single chicken, and even in that case, there was no evidence that the brothers sold it knowingly. Government prosecutors also accused the Schechters of ignoring the NRA’s price codes. Court transcripts show the Schechters trying in vain to justify the concept of market competition to lawyers pre-occupied with misguided notions fairness and price controls. The case eventually made it to the U.S. Supreme Court, where the NRA was ruled unconstitutional, a major defeat for the New Deal.

-18% unemployment isn’t really all that bad, if you think about it.

-During his tumultuous second term, a beleaguered FDR appointed the Rocketeer to be Secretary of the Treasury.

-One of Roosevelt’s many redeeming qualities was his frank perceptiveness regarding the growing problems of fascism and totalitarianism in the 1930s. Where the Republicans of the day were a decades-old skipping record of isolationist policy and anti-foreign sentiment, Roosevelt clearly understood the growing threat the Hitler, Mussolini, and to a lesser extent, Stalin posed. At the same time, he did not share the starry-eyed idealism for totalitarianism and communism that some members of his own cabinet espoused. Roosevelt was of his own mind on those matters, and history has vindicated him. He is a great and important president for his handling of world affairs, not necessarily for his economic policies.

-FDR enjoyed a solid rapport with Winston Churchill, and the two engaged in a best-of-three arm-wrestling competition for friends and family which Roosevelt won. Churchill, enraged, challenged FDR to a leg-wrestling match, and triumphed easily.

-I’m just going to come right out and say it: Eleanor Roosevelt was not an attractive woman. She was mule-ugly.

-Despite the slow rate of recovery, Roosevelt was a masterful politician who celebrated easy re-election victories because of his new Democratic coalition of farmers, labor unions, immigrants, and the poor (sound familiar?). Roosevelt re-calibrated an old phrase into a winning one, promising to help “the forgotten man at the bottom of the economic pyramid”. Roosevelt’s forgotten man was, as Shlaes puts it, “the poor man, the old man, labor, or any other recipient of government help” (including all those new receiving checks from the new Social Security program). The perverse irony of Roosevelt fashioning victory on the votes of the “forgotten man” can be understood when the phrase is read in its original context from the late 19th century Yale philosopher William Graham Sumner:

“As soon as A observes something which seems to him to be from, from which X is suffering, A talks it over with B, and A and B then propose to get a law passed to remedy the evil and help X. Their law always proposes to determine…what A, B, and C shall do for X. But what about C? There was nothing wrong with A and B helping X. What was wrong was the law, and the indenturing of C to the cause. C was the forgotten man, the man who paid, the man who is never thought of.”

-On Christmas Eve, 1940, Roosevelt invented the snowman. He later had that same snowman melted down into a refreshing pitcher of raspberry lemonade. Then he drank the snowman and peed him into the White House toilet. The tormented soul of that snowman haunts the sewer systems of Washington D.C. to this very day. That snowman’s name? Mr. Plops.

12/30/2008

2008 Music Roundup

Filed under: — peter @ 11:28 am

2008 was a banner year for music around the Welle household. Well, it was for me at least. I don’t know that my wife listened to any music this year. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen her since summer ended…

Setting that issue aside for the moment, here are my favorite albums of 2008:

The Hold Steady: Stay Positive
The Hold Steady
These ex-Minnesotan rockers now stationed out of Brooklyn just keep getting better and better. Like Bruce Springsteen crossed with American Movie’s Mark Borchardt, singer/songwriter Craig Finn pens lyrics that examine waning youth, Midwestern adolescence, and defiant Catholicism and chemical dependency. Despite the fact that none of those themes has any personal resonance for me, I find my ears straining to catch the next great line out of my favorite rock lyricist (my favorite from this album was the logical conundrum, “If one townie falls in the forest, does anyone notice?”) Meanwhile, the rest of the band rocks along like the greatest bar band in purgatory. This was my favorite album of 2008. Everybody should own at least one Hold Steady album, and I hope that Barack Obama will make this vision a reality.

Fleet Foxes: S/T
The Fleet Foxes
I don’t know much of the backstory of this group, but judging from the band’s sound and appearance, five Appalachian hill people wandered into a time-travel vortex in 1911 and were transported into a 2008 Seattle recording studio. The songs are rustic, melodic, and otherworldly – strikingly pretty and familiar while remaining unconventional. The four-part chamber harmonies don’t hurt either.

Coldplay: Viva La Vida
Her shirt is falling off!
Whether it be the momentous hype that heralded the album’s arrival, the pedestrian first single, or just nine years of Coldplay fatigue, I heard a few friends express a resigned ambivalence about this album. Whether the album is what they wanted is one matter, but I think it’s a confident step in a new direction for this great band. Producer Brian Eno seems to have really stretched them to take some of the air out of the songs and go for smaller, less obvious pleasures. Whereas X&Y felt like A Rush of Blood to the Head, only with a longer runtime, Viva La Vida is elusive, and rewards repeated listens. Song fragments dip in and out, and structures are much more untraditional. The title track is one of the odder hit singles in memory – a rock band putting out a song with only a string section and timpani, yet the song flies out of the speakers. (The excellent addendum EP Prospekt’s March only heightened my esteem for the album by showcasing the beautiful songs they intentionally left off.)

Elbow: The Seldom Seen Kid
The seldom seen Rubik's Cube.
Yes, this was about the same as 2006’s Leaders of the Free World, but it’s still a damn good album. The thing about Elbow is that the absolutely gorgeous singing and stirring melodies distract from the fact that the musical textures they create are wholly original. They sound more conventional than they actually are. Haunted instrumentation, oddball production flourishes, and patient buildups mark the Elbow sound, yet it’s never hard work to like them.

The Hopefuls: Now Playing at the One-Seat Theatre
The Hopefuls
These Minneapolis rockers (formerly The Olympic Hopefuls) feature the tandem talents of my two favorite local musicians, John Hermanson (Storyhill) and Darren Jackson (Kid Dakota). Their brand of power pop features a slippery bed of guitars and tinkling percussion, sweet synth like the Cars, and classical songwriting like Fountains of Wayne. The eleven songs don’t let up to take a breather and leave you with a sugar headache by album’s end, but it’s worth it.

(Download a free mp3 of Stacey, by the Hopefuls, compliments of the John Larroquette Project!)

—-

Other solid albums from this year:
Snow Patrol: A Hundred Million Suns
Pretty much like their last two albums – solid, agreeable stuff with a few great singles.

Bon Iver: For Emma, Forever Ago
Rural Wisconsin dude retreats to a hunting cabin to record a haunting lament in multitracked falsetto. Tough to return to repeatedly, but compelling stuff.

Neil Halstead: Oh! Mighty Engine
Mojave 3 frontman records a pretty solo album indistinguishable from Mojave 3, but that’s fine with me. This guy shits wistful.

Peter Bradley Adams: Leavetaking
L.A. songwriter’s second solo acoustic album is tastefully written, produced, and performed. I keep it at my desk at work – it’s background music, but it’s legitimate.

Oasis: Dig Out Your Soul
Now in their late 30s, these guys dug out some dirty grooves on this album. Some of it is filler, like it always is with them, but some of it is turn-up-your-speakers great.

Neil Diamond: Home Before Dark
Second stripped-down album helmed by uber-producer Rick Rubin. The law of diminishing returns was perhaps in play here, but Diamond’s eternal skills as a songwriter are still sharp, and that’s good to hear.

—-

Disappointments:
Ben Folds: Way to Normal
Dude, looking down on the characters in your own songs starts to turn people off after a while. You’re a talented, witty songwriter – how about saying something positive instead?

Travis: Ode to J. Smith
In an effort to shake up the doldrums, our Scottish friends wrote and recorded an entire album in a few weeks. The sound is refreshingly rough, but the songs just weren’t there.

—-

Favorite songs of 2008, for you chronically impatient downloaders out there:

Oasis: The Shock of the Lightning
Best rock song of 2008, hands down.

Bon Iver: RE: stacks
A haunting heartbreaker of a tune.

Fleet Foxes: Ragged Wood
A great, beautiful, otherworldly tune.

The Hold Steady: Magazines
The Hold Steady: Constructive Summer
Two favorites from an excellent album

Ben Folds: Cologne
Amid a snarky, coarse album lies this gem of a song for saying goodbye to someone dear.

And lastly, though this song isn’t technically from 2008, here’s a free mp3 for you: Nels, by aging Minneapolis hipsters Kubla Khan, perhaps the most inexplicably awesome song I came across this year.

12/26/2008

Post-Christmas Musings

Filed under: — peter @ 8:05 pm

I’m writing this the evening after Christmas from the airport Holiday Inn in Bloomington, Illinois, on our way home from spending the holiday with Bridgette’s sister’s family. Like experiencing a remorseful post-coital spooning from St. Nick, I am gloomy and introspective on this day after the holiday. Sounds like a tasty recipe for musing. So let’s do it. (Muse, that is.)

—-

The landscape of central Illinois and northern Indiana isn’t much to look at. As a matter of fact, it’s basically nonexistant. Sagging barns, empty billboards, truck stops every 25 miles, and there you have it. I will say, however, that vacant billboards are more welcome than the well-intentioned but grammatically confused ones that populate rural Minnesota’s highways.

Upon reaching the beautifully loping Kentucky countryside on our way to Elizabethtown, I found myself gazing admiringly out the window. Less pleasing, however, were the prominent billboards in neon yellow blazing “XXX ADULT BOOKS” (ironically, most of these were found in Hardin, a dry county). As a child, I remember seeing signs for “adult books” and imagining shelves loaded with fat novels about really complex, hard-to-understand topics.

If that actually described an adult bookstore, I would go there all the time.

In what was certainly the most unusual part of our Christmas, we ended up going to a church called Heritage International Church on Christmas Eve. Bridgette’s sister doesn’t really go to church all that often herself, and so when we expressed interest in going, she brought us all along to this place she had recently been invited to. We walked in, and realized that we were just about the only white folks there. Once the culture shock subsided, it ended up being a pretty cool experience. True to every stereotype, the music was pretty excellent, and not hard to enjoy. The pastor’s message (regarding seeking correction from God and avoiding a calloused heart) was genuinely stirring. The 20-minute session of faith healing and speaking in tongues? Ehhhh…

The best thing I got for Christmas this year was actually a small item from an ESL American History student of mine from Korea. She handed me a Starbucks gift card (always a great gift) with the following inscription: “Andrew Jackson’s hair may have been crazy, but Father Christmas’s beard is much more crazy!”

Now that I’m 30, I’m past the point where Christmas is amazing on its own terms. Maybe once Bridgette and I have kids things will feel different, but otherwise this season is best spent reflecting on fond memories of Christmases past. However, a few factors made this year’s celebration notable. Being with our two nephews on Christmas morning helps the celebration resemble an adrenalized meth binge. In addition, spending time on an army base (where my brother-in-law is stationed) gave us plenty of time to meet and talk to veterans of the Iraq and Afghanistan wars. This was incredibly significant to me – no longer were those words attached to an abstract political debate discussed by my current affairs students or columnists armed with talking points. I was talking with these men about their own experiences, what they saw, what their families endured, and what they went through. It lent a lot of gravity and significance to this year’s Christmas, and those men and their families will remain in the forefront of my mind for some time to come.

We met a friendly cat during our stay. He was a black cat named Flapjack. His special features included a runny eye infection, extreme friendliness with strangers, and a meow that sounds like a Ringwraith with laryngitis. For various humanitarian reasons, Bridgette and I briefly considered adopting him until I imagined myself explaining to dinner guests, “These are our three cats. Mona will probably leave you alone to go spend time in a filthy corner of our basement, Ben Franklin will aggressively try to sit on your lap and give you a hernia by pinpointing all his weight on your lower abdomen, and this is Flapjack. You can count on him rubbing his diseased eye juices across your clothing in his vain attempts to snuggle. Okay, now let’s play Monopoly.”

I hope your Christmas was similarly odd and wonderful!

12/19/2008

Winter Break Dawns

Filed under: — peter @ 8:00 am

It’s the last day of school in 2008! Suck on it!

Up next? Two straight weeks of craven gluttony, godless consumption, and shiftless sloth. Pants will be unbuttoned to facilitate more ample feedings, and pies will be gobbled up like a diseased reindeer being torn asunder by wolves. As the unvarying days bleed into one another, I will grow irritable and coarse, shouting to my wife to begin bathing my body with an old rag soaked in bleach. I can see it all as clearly as I see the ragged, bloody hangnails on my fingers before me.

Do I enjoy the fact that by January 4th, my self-loathing will be exceeded only by that of my wife’s bitter resentment toward me? I can’t say that I do. However, even if I had the power to change the course of Winter Break’s events, I would not do so. For to avoid calamity is to run like a feeble Swiss coward into the pale, doughy arms of St. Nick. He will at first seem pleasant and caring, but will soon reveal himself to be an aloof, self-gratifying man who watches too much Adult Swim and spends all his time arguing on internet discussion forums.

And so there you have it. Today begins my steady, terrifying descent into madness. I think I’m going to go out and buy some chips so I can eat them next week, once I’m a total douchebag.

12/18/2008

A Dumpling Meltdown

Filed under: — peter @ 8:06 am

Happy holidays, my friends!

Here, enjoy this plump, succulent dumpling! It’s on me!

Yikes. That don’t look too good, does it?

Well, maybe you don’t have to actually eat it. How about you just run your fingers through it for a while? It’ll help rev up the holiday spirit!

Not interested? Well you know what? You’re a real prick.

Thanks to you, I hate Christmas now. How does that make you feel?

The truth is not in me.

12/17/2008

My Snowy Commute, as it Happened

Filed under: — peter @ 9:18 am

A week ago, the first snowstorm of winter hit the Twin Cities, dropping a fat, fluffy load of angel excrement across our fine metro area during the afternoon rush hour. Highway travel was rendered futile, and the pace of traffic slowed to a rhythm befitting a morbidly obese man methodically working through a Chinese buffet. It took Bridgette and I two hours to get from our workplace in Eden Prairie to our home to north Minneapolis. It was most certainly worse than the recent Mumbai terror attacks.

During yesterday’s rush hour, the heavenly hosts again adorned our region with a 3-inch layer of fine white snowfeces. Again, traffic snarled and slowed. Again, curse words were shouted into the heavens with great vigor.

But this time, we were ready.

Setting a goal to somehow make it from work to home without using any of the major freeways, Bridgette and I set off on the side streets. Armed only with a vaguely-helpful map and an increasingly ineffective set of windshield wipers, my wife and I were as one as we sped through the quiet, well-to-do neighborhoods of the wealthy southwest suburbs. She, shouting out arbitrary street names and directions at the last moment by the light of the dome light, and I, pumping the brakes and deftly avoiding collisions with bridge embankments.

Our Hyundai slipped through the darkened boulevards and alleyways as we guided it north and east with my trusty astrolabe (given to me in my childhood by a mysterious, wizened miser who I presumed to be one of my uncles). Slowly, inexorably, we made our way closer and closer to our beloved home, with its drafty windows and unintentionally slanting awnings. It was as if we could hear our cats meowing for us in the frosty night air, impatient for their filthy cat paste we set out for them nightly in disgust.

At last, at 6:31, we pulled into the familiar confines of our garage. Surrounded with crappy lawn maintenance equipment and unused recycling bins, we were home. We had done it, somehow traveling from Eden Prairie to north Minneapolis without getting on a highway. We were like Ponce De León, except for the racism.

And it only took us 1 hour and 51 minutes.