The River

Friday, April 06, 2007

Not perfectly obvious; definitely worth commenting on

The Wicked Eunuch: Chomsky on 9/11

By Tom Breidenbach


...the jig is up when he reasserts that ham-fistedly theatrical claim echoed among the doctrinaire—that 9/11 doesn’t matter—Chomsky raises the ante with a further asinine (if revelatory) provocation, contending that even if the attacks were an inside-job, “who cares? …it doesn’t have any significance.” Just like the JFK assassination, “People get killed all the time.”

Here, cold-blooded arrogance is the only mask sufficient to the intellectual authoritarian’s impotence. Though it’s disguised as consummate reasonableness, this “analytical” butchery emulates the physical carnage it envies. His pedantic sadism compensating for his historical irrelevance, Chomsky signals (however momentarily) a response to the possibility of 9/11’s state-sponsorship that’s far more craven and servile—if nevertheless predictable—than mere paralysis: an alignment with the attackers whomever they may be based in denial of their crime’s even mattering! This opportunistic concurrence with the killers, a squirming and obsequious capitulation to or veneration of their power is betrayed by a flippant readiness or unconcern (at least on the part of this moneyed old man and his “radical” discipleship) for whatever conflagration or apotheosis 9/11 might portend. The ugly armchair bluff (or is he leveling with us?) of this cynical fossil should sober those inured to his hagiography.



Fortunately, Chomsky’s anxiety here may reflect that the “fundamentalist” rationalism he represents is being effectively countered by a dynamic and nuanced historical empiricism (under)represented in the academy by (among others) Peter Dale Scott, the elder statesman of “deep politics” (the term Scott coined), a field of study that remains largely alien to that still-predominant strain of pedantry preferring the self-congratulatory pieties of its own hall of mirrors to the rigorous and detail-laden discipline of that class of intellects threatening not a moment too soon to supplant it.

The rest at Abdiel's Room.

Learning to accept the whole 9/11 is a bit like Lou Reed says in the song "Last Great American Whale: "My mother says she saw him in Chinatown...but you can't always trust your mother."

People can't accept deep. They accept simple. If something resembling the truth about 9/11 ever comes out, it'll probably feature Dick Cheney personally guiding the jets into buildings in front of a big-screen computer linkage, laughing uproariously and pulling on a Thrustmaster joystick.

Popular culture would sooner believe he was an evil man who acted alone than they'd want to hear it was a classically compartmentalized, massive covert op planned over a period of 20 years. It'd be so simple to swallow and close the books with: "I knew that dude was bad all along."
it's tough realizing the pop culture I know and love is not only not up to exposing the lies, it turns out to be a perfect disguise
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