I cite

How the Christian Right is reimagining U.S. history

The current Harpers features an article by Jeff Sharlet, "Through a Glass, Darkly: How the Christian right is reimagining U.S. history." The article is interesting in the way it historicizes contemporary fundamentalism. Sharlet rightly points out its recurrence in American history. We might say that the struggle over religion is one of the organizing struggles of American life, intertwined with struggles over race (with some Christians leading the abolition movement even as others attempted biblically to ground their authority over their slaves). Sharlett notes as well that the thirties were the least religious decade--we might consider the rise of the welfare state in this context. The article begins:

We keep trying to explain away American fundamentalism. Those of us not engaged personally or emotionally in the biggest political and cultural movement of our times--those on the sidelines of history--keep trying to come up with theories with which to discredit the evident allure of this punishing yet oddly comforting idea of a deity, this strange god. His invisible hand is everywhere, say His citizen-theologians, caressing and fixing every outcome: Little League games, job searches, test scores, the spread of sexually transmitted diseases, the success or failure of terrorist attacks (also known as 'signs'), victory or defeat in battle, the ballot box, in bed.
...
We don't like to consider the possibility that they are not newcomers to power but returnees, that the revivals sweeping American with generational regularity since its inception are not flare-ups but the natural temperature of the nation. We can't coneive of the possibility that the dupes, the saps, the fools--the believers--have been with us from the very beginning, that their story about what America once was and should be seems to some great portion of the population more compelling, more just, and more beautiful than the perfunctory processes of secular democracy.

In the context of a criticism of efforts to 'explain away' fundamentalism in terms of class envy or the desire for a father figure, Sharlett writes:

The old theories have failed. The new Christ, fifty years ago no more than a corollary to American power, twenty-five years ago at its vanguard, is now at the very center. His followers are not anxiously awaiting his return at the Rapture; he's here right now. They're not envious of the middle class; they are the middle class. They're not looking for a hero to lead them; they're building biblical households, every man endowed with 'headship' over his own family. They don't silence sex; the promise sacred sex to those who couple properly--orgasms more intense for young Christians who wait than those experienced by secular lovers.

Readers of I Cite with Lacanian or Zizekian inclinations might start to get a little excited at this point. For, it seems that Shalit has provided us with an interesting clue regarding the current link between neoliberal capitalism and Christian fundamentalism, namely, enjoyment. Rather than preaching abnegation or renunciation (and structuring enjoyment sacrificially as worked in the good old days of the Protestant work ethic), Christian fundamentalism today commands enjoyment. In a way, it out does the superego injunction to enjoy linked to consumerism by urging and extra intensity that doesn't conflict with the market but amplifies it. Perhaps it makes sense to say that Christian fundamentalism channels (brands?) market enjoyment into the whole fundamentalist way of life--Christian bookstores, music, movies, scrapbooking accessories, seminars, radio, etc.

Shalit writes (in a way that suggests he's read The Time that Remains):

Intensity! That's what one finds within the ranks of the American believers.'This thing is real!' declare our nation's pastors. It's all coming together: the sacred and the profane, God's time and straight time, what theologians and graduates of the new fundamentalist prep schools might call 'kairos' and 'chronos', the mystical and the mundane. American fundamentalism--not a political party, not a denomination, not a uniform theology, but a manifold movement--is moving in every direction all at once, claiming the earth for God's kingdom, 'in the world but not of it' and yet just loving it death anyway.

Loving it to death. Amen.

Detox Update or Tox

Well, I didn't do the detox fast--yet. Instead, I bought a bunch of chick peas and lentils and made vegetarian dishes. This seemed rather successful. I went without caffeine and alcohol for two days and got a horrible headache. So, I restored them both. I did a pretty good job cutting out dairy, sugar, and meat--until I went to Florida. Now I'm back and trying again. I decided not to fast until after Valentines Day. I wonder how long I will put it off.

Oh well. It's about becoming not being.

Detox

Well, with the Zizek book and the ICT collection off at the publishers (we won't talk about the two pieces promised for other volumes that are still 'becoming' as it were), I've decided for some detox (this follows up on a visit to a new age kind of healing/spa/wellness place yesterday, with mud wrap, reflexology, chakhra alignment etc). Used to, after a project was done I'd clean up my office. These days that's pretty hard because so many projects sprout into different things; it's like trying to get rid of kudzu. Not that I didn't straighten up the shelves a bit (and realize that not only did I stupidly buy 2 copies of Means Without End, but that I've bought two copies of Ticklish Subject, Enjoy your Symptom, and On Belief--this last because I hated the book so much first time through that I gave it away...). Anyway, the detox plan is:

1.  Read Anti-Oedipus.
2.  Read and see What the Bleep.
3.  Do a physical detox by starting a fast on Monday (first day is water with lemon, then add fruit, raw vegetables, cooked vegetables, and rice; this might get mixed up because I forgot that I have to go to Florida on Thursday night.)
4.  Start eliminating dairy, meat, and eggs (and, I guess, for a while, alcohol and other things). (I was really proud of myself on Monday for becoming vegan--it seemed really easy until I realized that the great risotto I had for dinner had cheese in it).

I think of this detox plan as becoming vegan. I don't ever have to be vegan (see item 1.)

Now, is this new age weirdness? Yes and no. Yes in that I want to play with the notions in What the Bleep in a kind of personal experiment sort of way (like, thinking about different emotions and behaviors, like getting hooked on the buzz of blogging, too much thinking about posting and responding and not enough 'being in the moment,' bouncing around manically because of cramming too much into short periods of time, wondering about whether there might be a better way to do things etc).

But, no in the sense that from time to time I do go in an extreme direction (feng shui, Atkins, painting), so, weirdly, doing something new isn't actually all that new.

A better point, I noticed when I started Anit-Oedipus and some detox book or another that my reflex was to say no, not possible, wrong, can't, too hard, what about... There wasn't a space for yes, perhaps, maybe, in what sense, for now, or let's see. And this, I think, is not necessarily a productive way to think. Or, differently put, that it was blocking my thinking, making it rigid, as if I had to protect something fragile. So, I thought that for a time I would try a kind of suspension, a suspension that will attempt to say yes or perhaps or let's see. That could be refreshing or detoxifying.