McLuhan-- All of the Candidates are Asleep (part 1) 1968

Saturday Evening Post          (August 10, 1968)    p. 34-36

Marshall McLuhan discusses the effects of television on politics and explains why the current candidates are irrelevant.

All of the Candidates are Asleep

By: Marshall McLuhan

“Would that even today you knew the things that make for peace! But now they are hid from your eyes.” (Luke 19:42)

An election is a period of programmed violence, because it is a quest for new images of national identity. The present elections is a “tragic” one, because the American sense of identity has been in jeopardy from new technology for some time. Every new technology creates a new sensory environment that rearranges the images we make of ourselves. To discover and to elect representatives in a period of deep personal uncertainty is to be involved in a struggle for images, not a struggle for goals.

A tragic hero has no goal. He has to find out who he is when the foundations of his world have fled. His “irrational violence” is a probing of the unknown. Like our own TV generation, he cannot “fit in” to a world that has changed radically. His tragic agon, or struggle, is a process of making, not matching. He cannot “represent” people until he has invented or discovered them anew.

The Vietnam war has taught Americans that they cannot have a hot war in a cool, or involved, age. When electric immediacy has got everybody involved in everybody, mechanized violence is no more tolerable than mechanized education or mechanized politics or mechanized charity.

The ballot box is a “hot box” that is hard to cool in an election year. An old-fashioned hot campaign is hard to accommodate to a TV public engaged in the “first world war fought on American soil.”

All wars are world wars, under electric conditions. TV brings them into our homes, and some American parents have seen their own sons killed on TV news programs. Seeing them on TV, moreover, we experience all sons as our own.

From all the present candidates for the Presidency, the TV viewer gets the impression that it would be possible to have an intelligent conversation with any one of them under conditions of privacy and solitude, during which that candidate could be allowed to learn some of the central events in the contemporary world.

The simple fact is that no such possibility of intelligent conversation exists. If any one of them were to become aware of the actual dynamics of the 20^th century, he would at once dissociate himself from political lie. The compliance and submission needed in “practical politics,” or for any cooperation with any political machine excluded the possibility of any serious character appearing on the scene.

Now that Bob Kennedy has left the scene it is easier to see how much bigger he was than the mere candidate role he undertook to perform. His many hidden dimensions appeared less on the rostrum than in his spontaneous excursions into the ghettos and in his easy rapport with the surging generosity of young hearts. He strove to do good by stealth and blushed to find it fame. It was this (reluctant hero) quality that gave integrity and power to his TV image.

None of the candidates understands TV, either in its effect on him or on society.  If Canada’s Pierre Trudeau is a great TV image in politics, it is because he is indifferent to political power. Anyone who looks as if he wants to be elected had best stay off TV. TV demands sophistication—that is, multi-level perception. It is a depth medium, an X-ray form that penetrates the viewer.

Sen. Eugene McCarthy could have come out of any Hollywood casting bureau as a small-town philosopher. His yokel quality provides a very pleasing feeling of TV involvement, which gives him a nice, modest rapport with the young.

TV, of course, has transformed the primaries from regional popularity contests into national mage-making shows. Radio and jet travel, like press coverage, still count on the candidate’s have a special slogan, a special issue, that identifies him. TV has ended that. The press can only tag along to comment on what happened on TV.

But, in a deep sense, TV bypasses the ballot box as a means of creating political “representatives.” TV is not concerned with views or interests or issues. It is a maker and finder of images that ride over all points of view and over all age-groups as well. The TV image ends all national and party politics.

Why should TV demand sophistication and insouciance? Simply because it is a depth medium for which earnestness is fatal. Depth requires perception on many levels and, therefore, an absence of single purpose or direction. An all-at-once world, fashioned by electric information, demands a candidate full of puns and unexpected nuances. Such a man is one who knows so much about the contemporary interface of all cultures that he cannot possibly be deluded into any earnest regard for any one of them. The new changes are not moral but technological.

The question is whether we are to “go to bed” and “take our slumber” for the next four years with Humphrey’s “platform of happiness” and bubbly ebullience, or with Nixon’s “serene certainty” to “jog along” with Senator McCarthy, or to fix our gaze on loner Reagan. This question has all the immediacy and involvement of the choice between listening for four years to the same theme songs. Are we to endure four years of I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles (Humphrey), I Love You Truly (Nixon), Believe Me, If All Those Endearing Young Charms (McCarthy) or As Time Goes By (Reagan)?

In merely media terms, a Negro in the White House would have the most soothing and cooling effect on both national and international politics. Negroes make enormously better color-TV images than whites, because the contour of this image does not depend upon light and shade.

In media terms, a glance at presidential candidates, past and present, reveals that “running for office” only became possible when transportation reached a high degree of development. Until the telegraph and the railway, the office had to chase after the candidate. He sat home, writing letters to the local press. Slogans were basic. Cartoons and photography began to play a large political function even before railways made it possible for candidate to enter the age of caboose and whistle-stop oratory.

The radio age turned Oriental and inward. It became tuned to the cosmic and to ESP. The world in Joyce’s phrase, “went Jung and easily Freudened.” Magazines featured “The Yellow Peril,” while matrons played mah-jongg. Spengler announced the end of the West. Youth politics appeared (Cf. The Doom of Youth by P. Windham Lewis). Peter Pan and the child cult loomed along with “permissiveness” in psychology. Negro jazz became a new world idiom.

How to succeed... 8 keys

8 Keys to Success

* Have fun
* walk every day
* wear clean clothes
* smile
* say "thank-you!"
* call your parents
* breathe deeply
and #8
* love stronger

Dave Letterman-- Tense Moment with Brian Williams

Watched the Late Show with David Letterman a few nights ago. Brian Williams, the NBC Nightly News anchorman, was his lone guest. Brian knows television performance but jumped in almost too eagerly. He wanted to be funny and you cannot rush funny. And never try to compete mano a mano with Dave Letterman or even exchange volleys with David right from the get-go. But Dave stayed cool and  brought Brian back down to earth and guided him closer to his sweet spot. They got to talking in a comfortable way and Brian's humor came across.

On odd moment came about when Brian Williams brought up his actress daughter Allison, a star on Girls, the HBO series written, directed and acted in by Lena Dunham. Williams spoke highly of the talent of Lena Dunham in the manner of a true gentleman. He did not brag on his daughter or even speak much about his daughter until he mentioned she had an upcoming appearance on the Tonight Show. Whoops! Brian corrected himself, she actually had an upcoming appearance on Dave Letterman's show. This seemed like a genuine slip of the lip by the seasoned anchor pro. The plot thickens...

Most interesting was David's toxic reaction to Brian's mention of the Tonight Show. Dave slipped from his confident self to a bitter David. You could feel the the tension, the tears of a clown began rising from the normally unflappable Letterman. Williams tried to calm things and mentioned he was doing a documentary-style story on the promotion of Jimmy Fallon to the Tonight Show chair as a special for NBC. David mentioned that he too should be interviewed for the story. David insisted he should be part of the documentary, and referred several times to "little Jimmy Fallon" in a snide way. A bit of strained comedy ensued within the tense exchange. Jimmy is a kid-sounding name  (and coincidentally also Jimmy Kimmel's name, the other new kid on the late night schedule).  Jimmy Fallon, certainly not diminutive in a physical sense, can seem like a well-meaning child compared to the comic brilliance of Letterman. Never forget... Letterman brought the late night talk show genre back from the somnambulism of the latter part of Johnny Carson's tenure. And he worked to keep Carson relevant.

Letterman's reaction to Williams' faux pas revealed the deep pain still being felt long after he lost the Tonight Show gig to Leno. He again referred to little Jimmy Fallon. David always has had an edge, an maybe that's why the network chose Jay Leno over David Letterman.

I remember watching Beavis and Butthead once and they referred to Dave as "Letter-dude." That cracked me up. Dave's stodginess needs to be punctured from time to time. "Letter-dude" helps bring Letterman down to earth. I've always had an immense fondness for Letter-dude. For large portions of the audience he will always be a bit too acerbic...But the good news for fans is we can keep watching and enjoying Letterman, the maestro of late night.

Doesn't take a weather man...

From ABC news... Jan. 5, It hasn't been this cold for almost two decades in many parts of the country. Frostbite and hypothermia can set in quickly at 15 to 30 below zero.

Mind boggling cold weather in the Midwestern United States. Cold that threatens lives. Cold beyond the wildest imagination of men. What weather does Mother Nature have in store for us-- in the days weeks, months and years to come? 

Mankind makes a silly presumption; we presume Nature will operate according to the patterns of the past, simply because we like those patterns, we expect them and understand them. Nature owes us nothing and cares even less about our expectations. Climate is a reality of physics, indifferent to human emotion but very much connected to human behavior. If you put horrendous amounts of garbage, spew carbon into the atmosphere with unrelenting fury, as industrial man has done with nary a care about poor old Mother Nature... well then. 

Don't tread on me states the motto on the yellow flag from the American Revolution-- just below a coiled rattlesnake. We tread on Mother Nature to our own detriment.

Graham Spanier interview-- Penn State president

http://www.statecollege.com/news/local-news/twohour-graham-spanier-interview-offers-new-insight,1430650/


Dear Ken,

I watched the interview of the Penn State president-- a capable person in an extremely awkward situation. I found the ex-president was very cautious, very circumspect. He seemed very bureaucratic to me and monotonal, kind of sensitive seeming and a bit holier-than-thou. He did express regret about Jerry Sandusky's crimes but indicated almost zero in the way of personal culpability. Unfortunately, I wanted to hear about his own personal experience of being abused-- but when I tried to get back to the interview it made me go to the beginning. To tell you the truth, this guy seemed like an apologist. "I never ordered a soldier to kill a Jew-- it was their immediate supervisors who did that!" He keeps referring to the volume of emails that come across his desk-- but I noticed very little detail in his responses. Maybe he knew nothing, but I sense he feels some guilt for his lack of assertiveness in the situation. I may sound like a Monday morning quarterback, we all like to think we would have done better. 

But, all in all, Penn State came off very poorly in this situation. I think these characters are very committed to protecting their jobs-- and Joe Paterno stayed too long. Should Joe have left by 1998-- when it sounds like the shit started to hit the wall? Yes, he should have. Would Sandusky have committed these crimes regardless of Joe's situation-- possibly-- but Joe made things worse by casting his huge shadow over the Happy Valley football program. A guy with too much power can create problems. And remember Mack Brown would have continued if it was his choice. So Mack's lack of judgment is reminiscent of Joe's hubris. Thanks for sharing this interview.

John

Baseball in the Fifties

Baseball is not an improvisational game. The players' actions are guided along well-defined boundaries. You cannot hit the ball until the pitcher delivers it you. You have to run within the baselines and you go from first base to second base to third and home plate. No other options exist. Basketball and football are different. Basketball involves improvisation every time down the court. Football games, dense with planned and scripted plays, have constant adjustments as the offensive plan encounters an unpredictable defense. Think Johnny Manziel being chased out of the pocket and looking downfield for new opportunities or deciding to run if that's the best choice. Baseball gives you no similar freedom.

Ted Williams, considered by many to be the best hitter of all-time, fit well into the careful science of the game of baseball. He studied hitting in all of its intricacy and programmed his body to function as a refined baseball hitting machine. Watching Ken Burns' extensive study of baseball last night, I got a kick out of Mickey Mantle's comment on his conversation with Ted Williams in an All-Star game clubhouse and the results of Ted explaining all the things Mantle could do to improve his swing. Mantle said "I went 0 for 30 after the All-Star game." Apparently, Mantle approached hitting in a more instinctive way, less formulaic way. Mantle's swing was compact, a killing machine of twitch muscle and violent beauty. Williams's swing had more poetry maybe, a loose-gaited stroke, with great extension and rhythm. Williams discussed his last bat in the Ken Burns video, a home run at the end of the 1960 season, and revealed his ability to create in the moment. Jack Fisher, the Baltimore Orioles pitcher had put a fastball past him. Williams surmised Fisher  figured he could put another fastball past the 42 year old batter. Williams waited on the fastball and blasted it into the Red Sox bullpen. The other stories related to Wiliams' last at bat, 1) the small crowd of 10,000 fans on hand that day or 2) the slugger's stubborn refusal to tip his hat for the standing ovation, pale in comparison to William's ability to stay focused and relaxed enough to engineer a great at-bat on his very last chance at the plate. Even the scientific hitter has to respond to the reality of the moment.

Two other episodes portrayed in the Fifties chapter of Burns' baseball masterpiece had much to offer about individual performance and the ability of a single play and a single player to determine the fate of an entire franchise. Willie Mays playing for the then New York Giants made the great over-the-shoulder catch against Vic Wertz, Cleveland Indians, in Game Two of the 1954 World Series and the Giants swept the series. Maybe the catch convinced Cleveland the series was over. Apparently Willie had the habit, probably unconscious, of thumping his glove as he pursued a fly ball whenever he anticipated making the catch.The Burns' video shows Willie thumping his glove on the way to making possibly the greatest catch in history. Catching an outfield fly ball while running full speed may be the closest thing baseball gets to an improvisational moment. The outfielder must move his body with balletic skill to get his body moving with sufficient speed and grace to make the play-- much like a basketball player driving to the basket around, over and through the opposing players.

The other most impressive play from the Fifties though had to be the Sandy Amoros catch, the gem that propelled the 1955 Brooklyn Dodgers to a World Series victory and a world championship over the New York Yankees, their nemesis. Amoros raced towards the left field foul line to chase down a line shot hit by Yoga Berra, a sure double that would have spoiled Johnny Podres' shutout and probably turned the tide against the Dodgers. Sandy's long, brilliant run to make the catch elevated the Brooklyn team into believers and got the Yankee curse off their backs. Sandy moved with an improvisational beauty on the play, creating an opportunity where none seemed to exist. He helped the franchise with that catch as much as the other more famous Dodgers-- Jackie Robinson, Duke Snider, Roy Campanella, Don Newcombe, Gil Hodges and others. Maybe without that catch you don't get the championships claimed by Los Angeles in the decades to follow. I believe a single play can alter the entire trajectory of an organization-- and the lack of a defining play can hinder the less fortunate franchise.

There was significantly more footage of Willie Mays than a player like Sandy Amoros. Mays' movements down the base paths had the quality of young colt, a freedom of movement even within the great restrictions of the prescribed boundaries. Much has been said about Mays' joy for the game and Burns' video emphasizes Willie Mays' preternatural understanding of the entire field of play. Maybe this awareness freed him to move with greater confidence, comfort and relaxation.

Mack Brown-- a Tale of Two Eras

Mack Brown's first era lasted from 1998-2009.

Mack Brown brought Texas to the Promised Land-- under the winged feet of Vince Young in 2005. Confetti fell down from the rafters as Vince spread his arms wide in the cool air of a southern California night. Texas football had been brought back, revived from the post-Darrell Royal malaise-- and Mack Brown was the master at the control switch.

Mack Brown always had the gift for recruitment. He convinced Ricky Williams to stay for a senior season. Ricky won the Heisman in 1998 made Mack a winner in that very first season.

Mack recruited Vince Young. Mack always seemed uncomfortable on the sidelines but Vince reassured him that night-- never doubting even as the minutes ebbed away with Texas falling behind the mighty USC Trojans. Vince had done it before on many occasions and he did it again, brought Texas a last second victory, with the whole world watching. Texas had won its first national championship since 1970!

And after Vince, came Colt McCoy. Colt was like a young horse loosened from a small town football atmosphere and born ready for the big spotlight in Austin. Colt beat out Jevan Snead for the starting QB position. Over four years he averaged more than 10 victories per season. Something happened after Colt. The tide turned. Well the Tide, the Alabama Tide that is, knocked Colt out of the 2009 national championship football game and turned the tide of Texas football. Garrett Gilbert, a much heralded true freshman, came it as Colt's replacement and so began the long slide that brings us to the present moment-- the end of the Mack Brown Second Era.

The second era of Mack Brown goes from 2010-2013. Gilbert was no Vince Young, not another Colt McCoy. The mojo of Texas football disappeared with alarming rapidity. Was it anybody's fault? Maybe Mack Brown's fault? Had the game passed him by? Did he lack the talent for picking quarterbacks-- missing out at a time when RGIII and Johnny Manziel were graduating from Texas high schools? Maybe landing great quarterbacks includes an element of luck. Mack won twice, with Vince and Colt. He was due for a setback, according to the laws of the football gods. Mack never did anything grievous like Mike Shanahan, the Redskins coach, gambling a young RGIII's career by playing him injured in his very first year.

So give Mack Brown a measure of credit. He's a class act when the classiest act means looking out for the welfare of your players.  But his second era has been a kind of slow torture for Texas fans. Very little to get excited about-- and football fandom is all about getting excited. The football fan has no match when it comes to visceral devotion to an object of adoration, the team... with the possible exception of the stock market maven and his love of hurtling numbers-- the tumble of digits when stocks go up and down. But an adrenaline driven audience has no tolerance for long, drawn out suffering. Adrenaline wants to fight or flight. If the fight results in victory, you keep the coach. If the fight results in defeat, it's time for the coach to fly. Very little room for grey in the black and white world of the win/loss column. Mack's second era showed too many losses. And the show must go on.