A serious problem in America is the gap between academe and the mass media, which is our culture. Professors of humanities, with all their leftist fantasies, have little direct knowledge of American life and no impact whatever on public policy.
A war still rages over the legacy of the 1960s.
A woman simply is, but a man must become. Masculinity is risky and elusive. It is achieved by a revolt from woman, and it is confirmed only by other men. Manhood coerced into sensitivity is no manhood at all.
All objects, all phases of culture are alive. They have voices. They speak of their history and interrelatedness. And they are all talking at once!
American policy seems to be wed to a perpetual state of war. Why? History shows that the world will always be in flux or turmoil, with different peoples competing for visibility and power. The U.S. cannot fix the fate of every nation.
American universities are organized on the principle of the nuclear rather than the extended family. Graduate students are grimly trained to be technicians rather than connoisseurs. The old German style of universal scholarship has gone.
And what do Democrats stand for, if they are so ready to defame concerned citizens as the “mob” – a word betraying a Marie Antoinette delusion of superiority to ordinary mortals. I thought my party was populist, attentive to the needs and wishes of those outside the power structure. And as a product of the 1960s, I thought the Democratic party was passionately committed to freedom of thought and speech.
Anti-religious sneers are a hallmark of perpetual adolescents.
Are we like late Rome, infatuated with past glories, ruled by a complacent, greedy elite, and hopelessly powerless to respond to changing conditions?
Beauty is our weapon against nature; by it we make objects, giving them limit, symmetry, proportion. Beauty halts and freezes the melting flux of nature.
Because most of my career in the classroom has been at art schools (beginning at Bennington in the 1970s), I am hyper-aware of the often grotesque disconnect between commentary on the arts and the actual practice or production of the arts.
Because of my own family’s service (in the U.S. Army, Navy, and Massachusetts and New York National Guard), I am a strong supporter of the military and do believe that there are just wars.
Capitalism has its weaknesses. But it is capitalism that ended the stranglehold of the hereditary aristocracies, raised the standard of living for most of the world and enabled the emancipation of women.
Capitalism is an art form, an Apollonian fabrication to rival nature. It is hypocritical for feminists and intellectuals to enjoy the pleasures and conveniences of capitalism while sneering at it. Everyone born into capitalism has incurred a debt to it. Give Caesar his due.
Cats are autocrats of naked self-interest. They are both amoral and immoral, consciously breaking rules. Their ”evil” look at such times is no human projection: the cat may be the only animal who savors the perverse or reflects upon it.
Considering the popularity of soaps with the African-American audience, it’s grotesque that the entertainment industry, for all its vaunted liberalism, is lagging so far behind social changes in the United States. And why has there never been an all-black daytime network soap? It would probably blow the white soaps off the map.
Despite crime’s omnipresence, things work in society, because biology compels it. Order eventually restores itself, by psychic equilibrium.
Education has become a prisoner of contemporaneity. It is the past, not the dizzy present, that is the best door to the future.
Every man must define his identity against his mother. If he does not, he just falls back into her and is swallowed up.
Everyone born into capitalism has incurred a debt to it. Give Caesar his due.
Except for naval and air exercises, our military should be stationed on American soil, where service men and women can lead normal lives in close proximity to family and friends.
Feminism has become a catch-all vegetable drawer where bunches of clingy sob sisters can store their moldy neuroses.
Heaven help the American-born boy with a talent for ballet.
High Romanticism shows you nature in all its harsh and lovely metamorphoses. Flood, fire and quake fling us back to the primal struggle for survival and reveal our gross dependency on mammoth, still mysterious forces.
History shows that male homose*uality, which like pr*stitution flourishes with urbanization and soon becomes predictably ritualized, always tends toward decadence.
I am a registered Democrat who is determined to return my party to the proletarian principles of the Franklin D. Roosevelt era.
I am waiting impatiently for the day when beleaguered, like-minded academics can order James Wolcott’s collected essays for their classes.
I believe that everybody has the right to view his or her own body as a palette. However, I think intellectuals should at least try to be role models.
I believe that history has shape, order, and meaning; that exceptional men, as much as economic forces, produce change, and that passe’ abstractions like beauty, nobility, and greatness have a shifting but continuing validity.
I certainly derived my skills as a prose writer from my scrutiny of poetry and of the individual word. But schools don’t do things like that anymore – tracking words down to their roots.
I despise the phony, fancy-pants rhetoric of professors aping jargon-filled European locutions – which have blighted academic film criticism for over 30 years.
I don’t remember the fat women. Can we leave the fat women out of this? Excuse me, I have to go to the toilet.
I guess I’m just a natural warrior.
I like Hillary because she’s kind of a bitch.
I respect the astute and rigorously unsentimental David Horowitz as one of America’s most original and courageous political analysts. He has the true 1960s spirit – audacious and irreverent, yet passionately engaged and committed to social change.
I see far stronger and more charismatic personalities strolling around Philadelphia’s neighborhoods than are being featured in most of today’s bland daytime soaps.
I’m a professor of media studies as well as humanities, and I’m an evangelist of popular culture, but when there’s only media, then there’s going to be a slow debasement of language, and that’s what I think we’re fighting.
If civilization had been left in female hands we would still be living in grass huts.
If you live in rock and roll, as I do, you see the reality of s*x, of male lust and women being aroused by male lust. It attracts women. It doesn’t repel them.
In an era ruled by materialism and unstable geopolitics, art must be restored to the center of public education.
In the theory of gender I began from zero. There is no masculine power or privilege I did not covet. But slowly, step by step, decade by decade, I was forced to acknowledge that even a woman of abnormal will cannot escape her hormonal identity.
It is capitalist America that produced the modern independent woman. Never in history have women had more freedom of choice in regard to dress, behavior, career, and sexual orientation.
It’s high time for the art world to admit that the avant-garde is dead. It was killed by my hero, Andy Warhol, who incorporated into his art all the gaudy commercial imagery of capitalism (like Campbell’s soup cans) that most artists had stubbornly scorned.
Jesus was a brilliant Jewish stand-up comedian, a phenomenal improviser. His parables are great one-liners.
Lately, I’ve been doing a lot of tuning in and impatiently tuning out. As a longtime fan of talk radio, I don’t think this bodes well for the long-term broad appeal of the medium.
Leaving s*x to the feminists is like letting your dog vacation at the taxidermist.
Like Picasso. Because he was mean to his girlfriend, he was not a great artist?
Madonna can still produce a catchy pop song, but she hasn’t expanded her artistic vocabulary since the 1990s. Her concerts are glitzy extravaganzas of special effects overkill. She leaves little space in them for emotional depth or unscripted rapport with the audience.
Madonna is her own Hollywood studio – a popelike mogul and divine superstar in one. She has a laserlike instinct for publicity, aided by her visual genius for still photography (which none of her legion of imitators has). Unfortunately, her public life has dissolved into a series of staged photo ops.
Madonna remains the most visible performer on the planet, as well as one of the wealthiest, but would anyone seriously say that artistic self-development is her primary motivating principle? She is too busy with Kabbalah, fashion merchandising, adoption melodramas, the gym, and ill-starred horseback riding to study art.
Men know they are sexual exiles. They wander the earth seeking satisfaction, craving and despising, never content. There is nothing in that anguished motion for women to envy.
Minerva save us from the cloying syrup of coercive compassion!
Modern bodybuilding is ritual, religion, sport, art, and science, awash in Western chemistry and mathematics. Defying nature, it surpasses it.
Music never dies. Do we really need another Madonna tour? Does she have to compete with women performers 25 years her junior?
My generation of bossy, confident, baby-boom women were something brand new in history. Our energy and assertiveness weren’t created by Betty Friedan, unknown before her 1963 book, or by Gloria Steinem, whose political activism, as even the Lifetime profile admitted, did not begin until 1969.
My problem is that I do not get along with lesbians at all. They don’t like me, and I don’t like them.
My thinking tends to be libertarian. That is, I oppose intrusions of the state into the private realm — as in abortion, sodomy, prostitution, p*rnography, drug use, or suicide, all of which I would strongly defend as matters of free choice in a representative democracy.
Nature, I have constantly argued in my work, is the real superpower of this godless universe. It is the ultimate disposer of human fate, randomly recarving geography over 10,000-year epochs.
No woman has to prove herself a woman in the grim way a man has to prove himself a man. He must perform, or the show does not go on. Social convention is irrelevant. A flop is a flop.
One of the main reasons I am so drawn to Hitchcock is that he planned his shots way in advance on story-boards, which he designed like classic paintings (he was an art connoisseur). It’s why he found shooting on set boring – because he had already composed the film in his head.
Our liberal, New York/Washington-based media would never in a million years put Liberal Godfather Ted Kennedy on the spot about his clan’s bad behavior, to whose lurid history he himself has contributed so much.
Our major universities are now stuck with an army of pedestrian, toadying careerists, Fifties types who wave around Sixties banners to conceal their record of ruthless, beaver-like tunneling to the top.
Our presence in Afghanistan is not worth the price of any more American lives or treasure.
Out with stereotypes, feminism proclaims. But stereotypes are the west’s stunning sexual personae, the vehicles of art’s assault against nature. The moment there is imagination, there is myth.
Over the past 20 years, I have noticed that the most flexible, dynamic, inquisitive minds among my students have been industrial design majors. Industrial designers are bracingly free of ideology and cant. The industrial designer is trained to be a clear-eyed observer of the commercial world – which, like it or not, is modern reality.
P*rnography is human imagination in tense theatrical action; its violations are a protest against the violations of our freedom by nature.
Perhaps there is no greater issue facing contemporary women than the choices they must make about balancing home and work.
Popular culture – above all rock ‘n’ roll, with its African-American R & B roots – did far more to radicalize us than did any feminist leader.
Popular culture is the new Babylon, into which so much art and intellect now flow. It is our imperial sex theater, supreme temple of the western eye. We live in the age of idols. The pagan past, never dead, flames again in our mystic hierarchies of stardom.
Prostitution is not just a service industry, mopping up the overflow of male demand, which always exceeds female supply. Prostitution testifies to the amoral power struggle of s*x, which religion has never been able to stop. Prostitutes, po*nographers, and their patrons are marauders in the forest of archaic night.
Pursuit and seduction are the essence of sexuality. It’s part of the sizzle.
Sotomayor’s vainglorious lecture bromide about herself as “a wise Latina” trumping white men is a vulgar embarrassment – a vestige of the bad old days of male-bashing feminism.
Teenage boys, goaded by their surging hormones run in packs like the primal horde. They have only a brief season of exhilarating liberty between control by their mothers and control by their wives.
Television is actually closer to reality than anything in books. The madness of TV is the madness of human life.
The 1990s, after the reign of terror of academic vandalism, will be a decade of restoration: restoration of meaning, value, beauty, pleasure, and emotion to art and restoration of art to its audience.
The airheads of Congress will keep their own plush healthcare plan – it’s the rest of us guinea pigs who will be thrown to the wolves.
The damage done to U.S. prestige by the feckless, buffoonish George W. Bush will take years to repair.
The greatest honor that can be paid to the work of art, on its pedestal of ritual display, is to describe it with sensory completeness. We need a science of description. Criticism is ceremonial revivification.
The historical repugnance to woman has a rational basis: disgust is reason’s proper response to the grossness of procreative nature.
The moment is ripe for an experienced businessman to talk practical, prudent economics to the electorate – which is why Mitt Romney’s political fortunes are steadily being resurrected from the grave.
The North American intellectual tradition began, I maintain, in the encounter of British Romanticism with assertive, pragmatic North American English – the Protestant plain style in both the U.S. and Canada, with its no-nonsense Scottish immigrants.
The only thing that will be remembered about my enemies after they’re dead is the nasty things I’ve said about them.
The plastic surgery issue is really looming because girls in the U.S. are getting it in their teens.
The prostitute is not, as feminists claim, the victim of men but rather their conqueror, an outlaw who controls the sexual channel between nature and culture.
The trauma of the Sixties persuaded me that my generation’s egalitarianism was a sentimental error. I now see the hierarchical as both beautiful and necessary. Efficiency liberates; egalitarianism tangles, delays, blocks, deadens.
The visual is sorely undervalued in modern scholarship. Art history has attained only a fraction of the conceptual sophistication of literary criticism. Drunk with self-love, criticism has hugely overestimated the centrality of language to western culture. It has failed to see the electrifying sign language of images.
The western mind makes definitions; it draws lines.
There are no accidents, only nature throwing her weight around. Even the bomb merely releases energy that nature has put there. Nuclear war would be just a spark in the grandeur of space. Nor can radiation ”alter” nature: she will absorb it all. After the bomb, nature will pick up the cards we have spilled, shuffle them, and begin her game again.
There is no female Mozart because there is no female Jack the Ripper.
There is no true expertise in the humanities without knowing all of the humanities. Art is a vast, ancient interconnected web-work, a fabricated tradition. Over-concentration on any one point is a distortion.
Though men may be deep, mentally they are slow.
We live in a period of declining stars. Few celebrities these days (aside from the smoldering Angelina Jolie) seem to have complex psychic lives.
We should teach general ethics to both men and women, but sexual relationships themselves must not be policed. S*x, like the city streets, would be risk-free only in totalitarian regimes.
What has been forgotten is that there were major intellectual breakthroughs in the 1960s, thanks to North American writers of an older generation. There was a rupture in continuity, since most young people influenced by those breakthroughs did not enter the professions.
When anything goes, it’s women who lose.
When I was a child, my father taught me to put up my fists like a boy and to be prepared to defend myself at all times.
Why has the Democratic Party become so arrogantly detached from ordinary Americans? Though they claim to speak for the poor and dispossessed, Democrats have increasingly become the party of an upper-middle-class professional elite, top-heavy with journalists, academics and lawyers.
Within the U.S., the Obama presidency will be mainly measured by the success or failure of his economic policies. And here, I fear, the monstrous stimulus package with which this administration stumbled out of the gate will prove to be Obama’s Waterloo.
Woman is the dominant s*x. Men have to do all sorts of stuff to prove that they are worthy of woman’s attention.
Working moms commonly testify that they feel guilty when they are away from their children and guilty when they are not at their jobs. Devoted fathers certainly miss their children deeply, but it does not seem to be with the same gnawing, primal anxiety that often afflicts women.
You have to accept the fact that part of the sizzle of s*x comes from the danger of s*x. You can be overpowered.
Young feminists have been sold a bill of goods about American feminism. The enormous changes in women over the past 40 years are constantly and falsely attributed to the organized women’s movement of the late 1960s and ’70s.
Younger women have no problem in reconciling beauty with ambitions as a professional woman.
Anger and hatred lead to fear; compassion and concern for others allow us to develop self-confidence, which breeds trust and friendship.Dalai Lama