If you’re as old as me (1962) then you may remember fondly those adorable Woody Allen films from the 1970’s, where the obscurely clever, loveable, less-than normally endowed mensch held his own against the too-perfect, master-race types surrounding him.
So where am I going with this? Well, around the time of the ’74 oil embargo, Americans began witnessing a progression in our art, in our zeitgeist – from Wagnerian drama, from iconic, blond-haired, blue-eyed, master-race heroes, to the ironic anti-hero, who sort-of wins, mostly in spite of himself. It was out with Burt Lancaster and Lawrence Olivier and in with Woody and Jack Nicholson. Watch Five Easy Pieces if you question my logic.
But look out your window today. The roads are disintegrating, the bridges are rusting, debt levels and every measure of social and economic justice has never been more off balance. "Keep Montana Green" said the discarded half of the mud-flap by the side of the road, near the walking trail, lined by giant piles of dog shit and empty, plastic water bottles... Today the anxiety, fear and hatred seem more palpable. Like Iraq, Katrina and health care, if it isn’t completely broken in America today, it’s fucking close enough!
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