Is Redemption Possible? (RIP Robert McNamara)

CNN won’t tell you this, because he wasn’t Michael Jackson, but Robert McNamara made it to 93 years of age.  Then died.  58,000 American service-men made it to around 19 before they were killed in Vietnam.  A lot of people blame all that on McNamara.  At least some of it.  His passing was noticed a lot of places online, and a lot of passion was expressed.  The consensus does not seem to be very forgiving.

I met McNamara once, and I’ve seen him on the metro a couple times.  He seems very nice, you might say genial.  If you look at his later life, you’d call him something of a do-gooder.  Maybe he was trying to burn off the guilt with good deeds.  He finally published a book, apologizing for a mis-managed war, one he apparently knew we shouldn’t be fighting.  He offered up lessons about how that happened, how we got so lost in the Fog of War.

But Vietnam vets I knew at the time were not having it.  It was too easy, they said, to ask for forgiveness, years later, when the war is fading into history and things are pretty safe.  There are no negative consequences, only a boost in karma, a round of public acceptance, and a boatload of book royalties.  Sadly, in our culture, redemption and apology is a big money-maker if you’re in the Memoire-writing class.

Does he get points for knowing it was wrong at the time?  You might think the reverse, actually.  If he’d been convinced he was doing the right thing, of even doing something morally wrong that had a good chance of success, that might be more forgivable.

In the long run, it’s not up to me.  Or to the public, or even to the still-angry veterans.  Well, maybe they get some say.  And the 58,000 war dead.  But really, we don’t know what’s in a person’s soul, or whether change is real or just convenient.  But we do have a gift, a lesson from McNamara.  Whether he was sincere, repentent, or ultimately redeemed, he still gives us a look at how very smart men ended up doing something very stupid.  And costly.  It’s something all smart men should probably read.

We Need a New Word for Bad Movies

Calling a movie “bad” doesn’t tell me very much, and is unlikely to keep me from going.  There are many ways in which a movie might be bad.

There’s “Snakes on a Plane” bad.  The badness is actually the genre, and the title tells us what to expect.  The genre has certain rules and expectations, and this kind of bad movie can be done well or poorly.  Snakes on a Plane hit all the right notes, so people called it bad.  By which they meant it was a very well done “bad” movie.

There’s “Crank: High Voltage” bad.  You throw plot out the window, along with a good dose of physics, probability, and narrative logic.  But what you replace it with is a bunch of crazy, unpredictable events that, somehow, fit.  The movie is considered bad because it doesn’t have the things a good movie is supposed to.  But it has so much other awesomeness stuck into every possible corner that it really doesn’t matter.

There’s Sci-Fi Channel original bad.  These movies are formulaic, yet fail to rise to the basic requirments of the formula.  Bad special effects, terrible acting, ridiculous scripting, and broken physics make you flat out angry.  Or you laugh.  But the movies are low-low budget, usually there’s at least a few actors who are trying hard.  If the bad guy/creature is evil enough, you cheer for them to get it, even though you know the whole thing sucks.

Then there’s Michael Bay.  Big-budget, crap gets blown up, plot-holes swallow whole planets.  Random stupid elements are stuck in, and CGI runs rampant.  You can sort of like Michael Bay because of that “awesome” commercial.  He’s a big kid who likes to blow things up, and he likes the piles of money we give him.  The first transformers movie, Armeggedon were pretty bad, but in a fun way.

But there are degrees of badness within the Michael Bay category.  Pearl Harbor was so bad they wrote a song about it.  And Transformers 2: ROTFL, hurt.  People say: “what did you expect?”  Well, the first movie was okay for a summer outing.  How did the second find it’s own special level?  The movie is not only rife with stolen scenes, questionable special effects, stereotyped racial robots, and random things-humping-other-things, it also laughs at us.  The viewers.  Michael Bay thinks we’re idiots.  He also thinks he can tell us he thinks we’re idiots, and we’ll still give him money.  We do.  This is a unique level of badness.  Nearly unique, Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull Disaster comes close.