Epistemological violence in America

I've been dealing with a cold for the past few days, and as a result have gone largely without olfaction. This has of course messed with my sense of taste as well. It occurred to me while walking around today in eighty-plus degree heat that I would no have no idea whether I smelled bad. This got me thinking about smelling in general, and what sort of communication really goes on between the nose and brain when you smell a flower or a dumpster. What is to smell?

Moreover, without the sense of smell, and I realize this question probably sits somewhere on the razor-thin cusp between nonsense and metaphysics - what does nothing smell like?

Last night I went to see Gonzo, the Hunter S. Thompson documentary, which is essential viewing for anyone new to the good doctor's work. While it doesn't provide much new insight for the dedicated Gonzoist, one new gem is an audio recording of Jimmy Carter's Law Day speech at the University of Georgia in which he, President Carter, went about criticizing the legal system's bias toward the well-to-do and powerful. He called out lawmakers in Washington, Atlanta and Birmingham. He also praised Martin Luther King's contribution to advancing our society. Keep in mind he delivered this speech in the early 1970s to a room filled with wealthy Southern lawyers. Thompson supposedly carried this tape around the country, insisting that people listen to what Carter said.
Thompson, who initially had little interest in anything Carter had to say, described it as a "king hell bastard of a speech" and the best bit of political oration he'd ever heard. He doesn't quote extensively from the speech in his article, so it's nice to hear actual excepts of Carter delivering his devastating critique to the Southern gentry.
President Carter even quotes from "Maggie's Farm", which reminds me of Barack Obama's acknowledgment of that being his favorite Dylan song. Plenty of parallels can be drawn between Obama and Carter, not to mention Thompson's favorite former candidate, George McGovern. Like Carter, Obama is a supposed populist from a modest upbringing who rose to political prominence, seemingly from out of nowhere. The beginning of his end came when McGovern chose a shaky running mate who ultimately had to step down; Carter of course got trounced in the 1980 election after appearing week in the Iran hostage crisis. The specter of weakness and indecision plagues the Democratic presidential nominee now as it did then.
Obama certainly appears to be too politically savvy and learned in history to suffer the same fate that befell McGovern, Carter, Dukakis and Kerry. As most pundits agree, this election is Obama's to lose. Yet I can't help but think that some kind of crisis, real or manufactured, is lurking just over the horizon, waiting to sink the seemingly invincible Obama political machine and leave John McClain, I mean McCain, victorious in November.


Image courtesy of Hooverville

George Washington commissioned Pierre Charles L’Enfant to design the basic plan for a federal district in 1791. After disagreements with the local and federal governments, L’Enfant essentially had his work stolen from him before dying disgraced and forever unpaid. Despite this, many lacquered or otherwise laminated copies of said plan litter the city’s streets in alleged reverence for the author of this impressively imagined space.

Thomas Jefferson dreamt the nation’s new capital would become an “American Paris” and, with its low and dense skyline, wide boulevards, vast green spaces and general Baroque style, the city center of Washington, DC is certainly the closest thing to that. DC certainly looks unlike most American cities, aside from, perhaps, Savannah or New Orleans, in that high-rises and bland corporate architecture don’t plague the place.

Washington is the physical embodiment of the nation: the veneer of the state and of our national identity. While walking past the imposing state agency headquarters, seeing the place where the vice-president allegedly works, and fearing the absurd amount of police presence everywhere in the city, I could not help but feel the power of the monolithic federal government. The major cabinet level buildings (Treasury, Justice, Energy) are heavily fortified, so much so that average citizens cannot get within shouting distance. A sort of militarized zone surrounds the White House itself, as only pedestrian traffic is allowed in the general vicinity, and teams of dimly-dressed men and fierce dogs silently patrol the trees just beyond the black iron fence that keeps anyone from interfering with the process of democracy. Such is life during wartime.

One moment of wonderful irony came when Mr. Fishtank wondered aloud about the carbon footprint of the monstrous EPA headquarters (almost certainly the largest building after the Pentagon and Capitol). I don't have a picture of the EPA, but here's one of the good ol' home of the DoD:



Alright, enough with the cynicism and mistrust. Instead, I offer a humorous look at part of America's shameful past. At Mount Vernon, in addition to viewing a twenty-minute, Ford-sponsored, Lifetime–esque dramatization of George Washington’s rise to prominence and centuries of Presidential China (including Reagan’s!), I got to see this incredible sign:


I'll post some more photos once I have them.