(An) Infinite Jest

The pronounced death of writer David Foster Wallace (DFW) has been swallowed by the import of the coming election and the disasters of Wall Street, both which portend the demise of our economic futures. The media has become consumed by drained 401ks, taxpayer resentment towards the corporate bail-out, and fear of a derailed market. Last week the New York Times headline, “Post-Modern Writer Is Found Dead at Home” slipped quickly into finer print and then into the archives.

I first read DFW as a creative writing student at our lma mater, the University of Arizona. Last fall, I bought his essay collection, Consider The Lobster, which included a full-spread article covering John McCain’s campaign during the 2000 primaries. Originally conceived by Rolling Stone, Wallace was solicited as one of several respected and established writers to depict behind-the-scenes coverage of life on the primary campaign trail.

When McCain became the Republican nominee, I could not help but recall DFW’s earnest portrayal. His article, while capturing the nature of working as a member of the Press, also rewrites the character of McCain. Wallace’s McCain appealed to a wide readership. In his article, McCain was bold, outspoken, and vibrantly candid. His abundant charm and wit contributed to his enduring, uninhibited and honest relationships, including brazen antics, in dealing head-on with the press.

His personal accolades were also supported by his war story, now so popularized as to become folklore. Even as a non-supporting Democrat (reading the essay posthumously, 7 years after the primaries), I could not help but be moved by McCain’s history as a POW in Vietnam, where he refused to leave the prison camp without his fellow inmates. Wallace retells his story with credulity and seems to fervently believe in McCain’s claims of authenticity, unwilling to concede that he is “just a politician,” that he must… “be capable of devotion to something other, more, than his own self-interest.”

After supporting the surge in Iraq, McCain is infamous for the line, “I would rather lose the election, than lose a war.” Prior to his nomination, he was an icon of  patriotism and garnered reverence as a free-thinking, unbridled politician. Up until this point, his career has been marked by independence and bipartisanship, often invoking the criticism of his own party for his dissenting views on immigration, off-shore drilling, and abortion rights.

Shaping the politician is in no doubt, a political process unto itself. Watching the transformation of John McCain from a Senator into a presidential candidate illuminates the rigorous manufacture of the individual as a symbol in the political process.

Despite McCain’s seemingly best attempts, he has conformed to his parties’ agendas, including unabashed politicking, without much restraint, though he appears jaded and unmoved. His new persona is cagey and apprehensive, unwilling to discuss specifics, or speak openly about the same issues and questions that he once was able to vigilantly defend or criticize.

A week before the GOP convention, The Economist, titled their cover and featured article, “Bring Back the Real McCain” and in May, David Foster Wallace himself conceded in an interview with the Wall Street Journal that John McCain had changed since his nomination: “McCain himself has obviously changed; flipperoos and weaselings on Roe v. Wade, campaign finance, the toxicity of lobbyists, Iraq timetables, etc. are just some of what make him a less interesting, more depressing political figure now—for me, at least. It’s all understandable of course—he’s the GOP nominee now, not an insurgent maverick. Understandable, but depressing.”

After discovering that DFW hanged himself, it was difficult not to consider whether such a prolific writer left a suicide note, and be curious as to what it would have said. At the time of death, and especially suicide, it is impossible not to consider the culmination and meaning of one’s own life. In these final moments, where would your accomplishments reside?

Whenever a writer or any famed individual with a perceived amount of “success” is willing to end their life, it is difficult not to wonder, what happened… is it simply a case of depression? A haranguing sense of failure or fatigue? A sign of chronic melancholy and years absent antidote? Selfish indulgence? For one who has empirically “made-it,” what would it take to say, “enough?”

Wallace’s suicide in the middle of McCain’s campaign smacks of a tragic truth: despite any individual determination or ability, the sense of defeat may always be palpable. Perhaps it does not matter so much what you do, or say, or write, because, even with a level of prestige or influence, what does it mean to know, that your world may go on unchanged? Your obituary, as an epic-writer, may be D-list news after a financial institution fails. Your career that was once marked by maverick intent, may be corrupted, as you yourself become subsumed as a political symbol.

The fate of John McCain as a presidential candidate and political figure triggers the end of the individual, for it requires his incorporation and submission. His determination, idealistic departures, and heroic demonstrations become irrelevant where becoming a member of the moving or “progressive” elite, he becomes something else—someone else, eviscerating the individual character, nature, or disposition that  had created any signature dissent and momentum.

To become an influence, the individual must subscribe to something bigger, though this may also lead to the loss of the self. Perhaps a suicide itself is the ultimate declaration of individualism, or simply the discovery that “success” is an imposter in a world that demands capitulation.

Palin’s Wake

I was raised in a Republican household, my father’s own history and career giving voice to the American Dream. Born in Janesville, Wisconsin, a town where most fantasy ended in a factory job at the GM plant, my father was the first of his family to attend college. He started his construction business that went bankrupt, but he pressed on, obtaining an MBA and eventually became the Vice President of a Fortune 500 Company. My relatives include members of the Steelworkers’ Union, ex-Navy Seals and entrepreneurs, each believing in the value of hard-work, perseverance, and the “pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps” mentality.

My father told me the other day that Obama supporters (and Democrats in general) undermine his own life story. In his view, if everyone worked as hard, they too could be comforted by the financial security that our democratic capitalist system affords.

I read a bumper sticker online this week that said, “Piss off a Liberal: Work Hard and Be Happy.” Immediately, I thought of my father (a wry smile appears on his face).

In my family, and under the auspices of my father’s protestant ethics, work means value, and value means profit, and that profit, yields worth. For my father, everyone has the opportunity to do well in this country, every individual has the advantages that living in this country affords, and anyone can find success and stability, if only they are willing to work. The converse of this argument, of course, is that if you do not have success and stability, you simply have not worked hard enough.

I cannot help but be kept awake at night by this election, particularly in light of the announcement of VP nominee, Sarah Palin. My mother, who has always been pro-life and Republican, has also been staunchly against “career women” types. Once she showed me an article about a group of mothers in L.A. who had formed a band and was furious that they would “abandon their children at home.” The feminist in me rebuked, and I asked her if she would have been offended if the band members were fathers: “It is a mother’s job,” she responded.

Since the Palin announcement, my mom sounds like a raving feminist and a liberal for the first time: “She’s just awesome…all that she has done.” And I am left sounding like the aged Republican housewife, “Do you really think she is ready? What about all of those kids?”

As a liberal (often feeling at odds with my own upbringing and past) this election feels particularly schismatic. It is becoming clear where exactly where my beliefs part, not only from my family, but also my roots in Middle America:

A Choice is Not Always Easy
I believe that women have a choice. But, it is…a choice…a choice that comes with complications and sacrifice. You choose whether you want to have a child or not. You choose whether or not you can afford to have 1 child or 10. You choose whether you want 2 children or 12 (ask Angelina). If you are lucky enough, you get to choose whether you want to work at all (though for most mothers, this is not a choice). Any honest mother who works will admit the difficulty of this choice, understanding that they sacrifice time with their families to work. Palin seems to deny this hardship and choice all together, seeming to breeze easily from beauty queen, to “hockey mom,” to PTA mom, to Mayor, and is now primed to become the next Vice President of the United States. She seems to deny any real hardship that working mothers face, and reinforces the Republican ideals that anyone can “have it all.” As a feminist, I cannot criticize her career, but her apparent recklessness and abject disregard for the reality that working mothers face.

Short rant #1: I have been reluctant to indulge the Palin (Spearsesque) baby drama, but I cannot help but be reminded of a conversation I recently had with my father who (not so subtly) blamed teenage pregnancy on the uneducated “black girls in the ghetto.” The GOP’S treatment of Palin’s daughter reminds us that teenage pregnancy for black girls is an “epidemic” and white-girl suburban pregnancy remains a “private family situation.”

Short rant #2: So maybe no one asked Bill Clinton about his ability to be a father and be Commander in Chief. And maybe it is true that no one asked Obama about whether his parenting would suffer if he were elected, but everyone would surely start questioning his integrity and judgment if he brought 5 kids and a pregnant teen into the white house (you know, because he’s black).

Reading the Constitution
I believe that the President should be of superior intelligence. The fact that he went to Harvard Law School should not be considered a threat, but a highly desired credential. Since when does “hands on” work preclude an intellectual understanding and since when does education preclude “real” experience? An attorney and law professor, who has actually read and understands the Constitution, who can articulate its nuances and credibly discuss its application, is not a blemish, no matter how much Republicans resent intellectualism. His sweeping acceptance internationally, his diverse cultural background, and willingness to engage diplomacy are not a slight of record. Do we really need to reinforce the stereotype that Americans are ignorant? Is hawkish militaristic rhetoric, cowboy hats and use of the word “dude” really conducive to national security?

*And no, living in Alaska does not qualify as “experience in foreign policy” because it is the closest state to Russia.

Living in Fear
As if using lies that spurred fear to cause a war were not enough, the Republican party continues its scare tactics in the movement of its people. They invoke the fear of God, the potential of Middle Eastern “savages,” the Axis of Evil, and threaten the loss of a Constitutional right to bear arms. In a not-so-ironic-twist they are using the fear of a worsening economy under Obama to galvanize swing voters (even though Clinton’s fiscal policy and economic record compared to that of the past 8 years is direct evidence to the contrary). The most abhorrent and base level human behavior on a micro and macro level arises out of fear. The Republican commitment to catering to this animal instinct (in addition to other acts of flagrant dehumanization) is further evidence of their ardent cynicism and shameless will to preserve their own machinery.

According to the GOP, Sarah Palin’s strength is Obama’s weakness. He is from a big city, she is from a rural town. He is Harvard educated. She has a Bachelor’s degree from the University of Idaho. She fishes and hunts. He eats arugula (according to his critics- he is so healthy! What an elitist snob!) This difference is the Republican advantage, and the argument goes like this: lofty intellectuals, impotent by design vs. get your hands dirty types who eat meat and understand “straight talk.” My entire family (veterans, businessmen, and ironworkers) all embody the morality of Midwestern family and work “ethics.” In this campaign, they can make a clear distinction between the character of John McCain and the character of Barack Obama. To them, the difference is tangible.

This election has created a larger personal rift (ironically in opposition to the promulgated goals of both parties), forcing us to personally attach ourselves to these ideals. How does your experience as a mother inform your choice? Are you voting for Obama simply because he is black? Would a true veteran not vote for McCain? As a “true” feminist, is it fair to call Sarah Palin’s ability into question?

This election has become personal the same way that politics in my own household have become personal. Despite my parents’ best attempts, I am not a Republican. I do not believe that every American is given the same opportunities for security and success. I do not believe that every person who “makes it” is a product of his or her ethics. I do not believe that the government should be able to spend on corporate bailouts and a war that is in violation of international law, all while invoking the fear of “big government” at home (“big government” being education, health care, and disability programs). I do not believe that intellectualism is pejorative. I do not believe that deregulation of the market is the answer to our social and economic problems (see Enron scandal and current mortgage crisis).

I can make peace with my own beliefs at-large, but when I challenge the notion of the American Dream, am I challenging my father? When I devalue the experience of a PTA member or scoff at a “hockey mom” am I belittling my mother’s work? As an academic in NY, am I not a “real” worker like my father, grandfather, and immigrant ancestors?

More, important, am I really making a choice in this invented cultural war between intellectualism and the “real world?”

In the same logic of the Republican campaign strategists, my father calls me cynical and mother thinks I “just don’t know.”

For this first time, I feel a very natural and divisive split from my parents, Republicanism, and what has seemed to be the vast majority of this country, at least in terms of the sprawling red states where urban (particularly bicoastal) living means isolation.

Being born in a country that you do not agree with is not so dissimilar from being born a dissenter in your own household. A friend said to me the other day, “I am starting to accept the fact that these yahoos might actually win the election. The hard part is accepting what that means about this country. I am going to have to completely recalibrate the way I feel… I need a new understanding of where it is that I live.”

This is a task I cannot so sanguinely complete, when my country… is also my home.