perryprecious on the precipice

Music: The Horrors: Primary Colours (2009)

While Aus-Vegas braces itself at the center of a ring of (wild) fire, Gov. Good Hair is prepping for his appearance tomorrow evening in the republican showcase. Fifty fires sprung up around metro Austin just in time for Perry to play the good governor managing a crisis (and, frankly, he's doing a good job here, saying what needs to be said), as if to deliver a savior on a wave of goodwill---water, you see, is in short supply---into the arms of a party divided. Polls have Perry way ahead of the Romster, and a good performance Wednesday night may just seal the deal.

The joke around these parts is that Perry is "like George W. Bush, but without the brains." On the surface the joke is fairly funny, given that many regarded Bush as a not-so-bright guy. The fact is, however, that Bush is a bright guy, on average as smart as most presidents (from standardized test and IQ scores released in the press, to the way he ran his campaigns and fared in presidential debates, and so on). I think the attribution of stupidity to Bush had more to do with his stubbornness and his speech (he has a pronunciation problem, if ya didn't notice). As Politico posed, the question of the moment is really this: Is Perry dumb?

The conclusion of most political journalists---especially those embedded in Texas---is a resounding "no," when we agree there are many types of intelligence. Perry is not a wonk, is not a details guy, and in general only knows what he needs to know. What story after story here in the local papers detail is Perry's profound political savvy: he's not book smart, but he's smart enough to surround himself with advisors who are, and then to do and say exactly what they tell him—sort of (it's that "sort of" that is interesting). Of course, Cheney would have us believe with his recent tell-all this is what Bush II was as well (and he was the puppet master), but I don't quite believe it. Call it nostalgia for Bush if you want, but, Perry is the real deal, the automaton of an affective resolve with shots crafted and talking points molded by a team of talented ideologues. The thing is, what folks find so convincing about Perry---attitude, bravado, seemingly off the cuff zingers---is also the "tragic flaw" that, I hope, will impede his momentum.

As many have observed, Perry is not big on debates and unscripted, ad-libbing sessions. He's not terribly good on his feet; he's good if he has a script, but pushed on an issue unprepared, he suffers from Porky Pig syndrome. For example, check out his response to local Lefty journalist Evan Smith when pushed on the program of abstinence for so-called "sex education":

Now, to be fair, abstaining from sexual intercourse does, in fact, prevent pregnancy. I'll grant the governor that. But faced with the fact we're third in the nation for unwanted pregnancies among youth, he struggles here with a good, reasoned response to Smith's questions other than an affective display of conviction.

Given the republican "debates" I have seen thus far, I'm not so sure there will be such pointed questions to Perry and the other candidates. And what troubles me is that it would seem for a good many potential voters, affective displays of conviction may be all they need. This election may come down to voting as a form of grunting.

Many years ago, deep into a fascination with Huey Long and demagoguery, I wrote many (unpublished) pages about a robot of the former governor in Louisiana's Old State Capitol building. I was trying to think-through why state officials would want a robot of Long saying folksy things to visitors and concluded it played into a strange "death wish" at the center of Louisiana culture. It's hard to explain unless you've spent any time in that state. I came up with a concept I termed the "political uncanny," the idea that the politician was, in fact, an automaton parroting this or that rhetoric for power, that the government was a grandiose machine that ran itself. The illusion of the political is that people were calling the shots, when really, if you are down with Foucault's understanding of governmentality, people are more or less articulations of the machine (that is, even politicians misunderstand power). This underlying fantasy of the political that emerges in the modern era finds expression in the animatronic politician, first pioneered by Walt Disney World (which featured robotic presidents in the 60s) and then in cinema with The Manchurian Candidate. Animatronic presidents are not hard to come by; we have one of LBJ here at UT in the presidential library that registers a "ten" on the creepy-meter (he only tells jokes).

It's not a fully developed idea, but I think with Rick Perry we have a serious manifestation of the political uncanny. While I would not evacuate the man of his humanity, he does nevertheless parrot more than he pops off an original thought---and this is precisely the "sort of" I find interesting. When Perry makes his most egregious gaffs, such as calling Bernanke "treasonous," that's not calculated; he's giving voice to something moving through him, almost as if he's possessed with a kind of prophetic voice, as if he cannot help himself. Conviction guides him, but what comes out of his mouth is often inspired. And this is the thing about the political uncanny, as I am thinking of it: its appeal is subtly nihilistic. It's dark. The appeal of Perry concerns both the "on message" dedication and the flights off the script that are something like a strong stare into the abyss. The risk-taking absurdities, of accusing a respected government official of treason, of seceding from the Union, of staying the course like Nemo, into the heart of Cthulu.

Obama has been a disappointment, and probably for reasons most of us cannot possibly fathom. But one thing Obama has not been is robotic. That he disappoints us probably should give us pause; it means he's thinking. Perhaps not in a way we would wish. He's thrown just about everyone left of center "under the bus" at this point and almost entirely alienated his base. It's not looking good. But I know Obama is not a nihilist, and I'm going to vote for him again, because I worry about the alternative (robotics).

Perry is polling well because he is riding anger. That is his appeal, and its seat is nihilism, and he'll parrot whatever he is advised to as long as it gives focus to anger. And what really, really makes me fearful is the things he's choosing to target.

For the debates on Wednesday, I'm going to be listening for questions about two things particular to Perry's political strategeries: (1) his assault on higher education; and (2) his affiliation with the New Apostalic Reformation, which was behind his much ballyhooed "day of prayer" media event. In Texas, higher education has become more politicized than any state in which I've ever lived, now a target for "reform" (which means, a target for corporatization). And as for the New Apostalics, well, if you think Mormonism is a strange religion, you just wait. I urge those of you unfamiliar with this religious movement to read up and take note.

Perry is very, very scary.