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Showing posts from October 30, 2004

The politics of trauma

Being the blithely arch but lighthearted creature she is, your blogstress maintains an alter-ego to handle life's more somber moments: a mostly serious journalist who writes under the byline of Adele M. Stan. For weeks, Stan has labored over a piece on what she calls the politics of trauma, a brand of politicking she claims has replaced the much-vaunted politics of fear: The politics of fear is based around ideas such as these: that homosexuals are out to recruit your children, that God will punish the nation for its sins, that the family is broken when women have power, that membership in the United Nations demands the surrender of our nation's sovereignty. In short, the politics of fear exploits the trepidation innate in humans when facing change of any kind, and tweaks it to a twitchy pitch in times of great social change. The politics of trauma is another beast entirely, based as it is, not on fear of the unknown, but the exploitation of something atroc

Enter Osama, right on time

Well, it looks as though Osama bin Laden, in his new release, has spared the Bush administration a need to concoct an elevated alert out of archival material. Your blogstress has yet to discern exactly what bin Laden means by this message, but your cybertrix can't help wondering if he isn't operating a 527. In bellwether New Jersey (yes, your Webwench knows you non-Jerseyans out there are sick of hearing of her beloved homeland), every time the alert meter ticks up to a richer hue, Bush's numbers spike upwards, even on the domestic issues--economy, health care, etc.--on which Garden Staters usually rate him as a slacker. (Do recall, dear reader, that your net-tête predicted an elevated alert in time for this Sunday's papers.)