Op-Ed

AUSTIN, Texas -- We seem to be having a hail of news that fails to amaze.

Israel has been attacked by another suicide bomber. Ariel Sharon, so memorably described by President Bush as "a man of peace," had to rush home to continue his policy of tit-for-tat, which he has so brilliantly demonstrated does not work.

Of course, Sharon is also demanding that Yasser Arafat Do Something about the terrorists. This adds an even more surreal element of black comedy to the tragedy. Assuming Arafat is not himself the head terrorist, as Sharon claims, with what, exactly, is he supposed to do about anything? Sharon has been destroying Arafat's Palestinian Authority piece by piece for months now and has just finished an attack that demolished the last elements. Even assuming he had the will, Arafat has no way. Sharon has put Hamas and Hezbollah in charge. Anyone who is surprised by the result probably thinks Sharon IS a man of peace.

AUSTIN, Texas -- In 1901, a Henry T. Finch, writing in The Independent, reported: "Women's participation in political life would involve the domestic calamity of a deserted home and the loss of the womanly qualities for which refined men adore women and marry them. ... Doctors tell us, too, that thousands of children would be harmed or killed before birth by the injurious effect of untimely political excitement on their mothers."

I'm trying to imagine an Al Gore speech that would provoke "untimely political excitement."

Actually, what I'm trying to do is remind y'all of the fine American tradition of everybody and his hamster feeling free to make vast, sweeping prescriptions for the entire female gender. We have just been through a modest little media orgy over both Karen Hughes' decision to resign from the White House and Sylvia Hewlett's book pointing out that it gets harder to have babies as we get older.

In a twist of fate, obituaries appeared for the inventor of the Barbie doll just as a $50 million advertising campaign got underway for an anti-wrinkle drug with a name that memorably combines the words "botulism" and "toxin." Expensive injections of Botox are already popular among women eager to remove lines from their faces. The ad blitz of mid-2002 is certain to boost the practice.

American women between the ages of 30 and 64 are the prime targets, and 90 percent of them will be hit with Botox pitches a minimum of 10 times. Launched with a paid layout in People magazine the first week of May ("It's not magic, it's Botox Cosmetic"), the print ads use before-and-after pictures. Network TV commercials are also part of the campaign.

To many minds, we live in a post-feminist era when denouncing sexist strictures is anachronistic. People who complain loudly about media images of women are apt to be derided for "political correctness." But another sort of PC -- what might be called "patriarchal correctness" -- continues to flourish today as a media mainstay, and not only in the realms of advertising and mass entertainment.

AUSTIN, Texas -- Great, now everyone who thinks Ariel Sharon is a screaming disaster for Israel has been read out of the pro-Israeli camp. This excommunication comes not from Israel -- where quite a few people think exactly that -- but from William Safire and his fellow grandees of the journalistic right, who apparently have no doubt about their own authority to decide who is for Israel and who is not. Some of us who think Sharon is a walking catastrophe have been under the apparently misguided impression that we, too, were devoted to Israel's best interests.

But ever since Attorney General John Ashcroft informed me that worrying about cancellation of the Constitution was the same thing as aiding terrorists, it has been clear to me that I mustn't think what I think. I need to be instructed what to think by people who think the way he does. This is the same attorney general who spent $8,000 to cover up the tits on a statue and who believes calico cats are a sign of the Devil, but I am not allowed to conclude that the attorney general is something of a nincompoop because that would aid terrorists.

AUSTIN, Texas -- Sometimes I forget how truly simpleminded the Bushies can be. The front-page of The New York Times reports, "The Bush administration seems to accept and even relish (Attorney General) Ashcroft's role as lightning rod on difficult criminal justice issues."

Since the attorney general has so amply demonstrated his clueless incompetence, it may seem difficult to plumb why it should be so. But it is precisely, you see, because liberals consider John Ashcroft a dangerous nincompoop that the administration thinks he's doing a good job. They really are that simple.

In the Texas Legislature, the press occasionally gives the If-He-Votes-Yes, I-Vote-No Award for some egregious example of this particular strain of non-thinking. Any halfway smart politician loves to have another pol in this position. That's when you introduce a resolution in favor of Motherhood just to watch the other guy vote against it.

Weeks before the 20th century ended, the pundit Michael Kinsley was uncommonly direct in a Time essay that defended the virtues of the World Trade Organization with these closing words: "But really, the WTO is OK. Do the math. Or take it on faith." Delivered by the flagship magazine of the Time Warner conglomerate (soon to merge with AOL), the message was more overt than usual: We should devoutly accept certain pronouncements as conclusive.

Such rigid faith is dangerous. It undermines critical thinking. And it's wide open for manipulation -- by mainstream news outlets as well as by some who present themselves as anti-establishment.

Many decades before the invention of television, the American historian Henry Adams was essentially correct when he wrote about the dominant media of the day: "The press is the hired agent of a monied system, and set up for no other purpose than to tell lies where their interests are involved." In substance, there is much truth to that observation in 2002.

MARATHON -- In the annals of West Texas law enforcement, few episodes rival the recent (well, relatively recent) unfortunate occurrence involving the mayor of Lajitas. As visitors to that border metropolis in the Big Bend are aware, the mayor of Lajitas is an alcoholic goat named Clay Henry.

The incumbent Mayor Henry is the third of his line, making this, we believe, the only democratically elected dynasty in the country. If you give the mayor a longneck bottle of beer, he'll swig it -- just like most of his constituents. The Sober Party ran a canine against him in the last election, but it didn't have a dog's chance.

So first thing one morning just a few months ago, Steve Houston, the county attorney, gets a call from Richard Hill, constable in Lajitas, announcing they're dealing with a serious situation: Someone castrated the mayor. A vet is en route at high speed from Alpine, but it's unclear whether the goat will live or not. Local feelings were running high against the perps. Some felt there was danger of a possible lynch mob. Constable Hill got right on it.

AUSTIN, Texas -- When in the course of the usual reasoned, civil debate on public affairs -- conducted always with courtesy and good cheer -- one finds one's self snarling, "Oh, shut up!" one has, I fear, been reading too much George Will.

Being instructed what to think by the peerlessly pompous Mr. Will, perched upon his superiority and apparently in a permanent state of dudgeon over everybody else's stupidity, is reminiscent of being bullied by a snotty teacher. One is tempted to respond with the classic, frozen-faced Texas inquiry, "No bull?"

Will is often worth reading if only so you can figure out why you disagree with him. Lately, he has been leading an entire phalanx of right-wing commentators in full cry over President Bush's loss of "moral clarity" in the Middle East. The sheer implausibility of finding moral clarity in the Middle East does not deter them. Better minds than Bush's are defeated by that challenge, but the moral-certainty crowd admits no shades of gray.

Alice climbed out of the news hole. She seemed badly shaken. "I thought Wonderland was curious indeed," she said, "but Medialand is even more peculiar."

Responding to my quizzical look, she quickly added: "Don't worry, I stayed away from the hookah-smoking caterpillar, the 'Drink Me' bottle and the 'Eat Me' cake. I did not converse with a single playing card, dormouse or mock turtle. I was simply observant."

Alice's sudden appearance in the sunlit meadow gave me an idea. No longer a girl, she was clearly an intelligent woman. "Here," I said, pulling a laptop from my briefcase, "please write about your latest adventures." And before she could decline, I ran off.

Returning hours later, I found these words:

Oh dear, how to begin? The Hatter and the March Hare could never match the lunacy I've just seen in Medialand. I'd heard of people subsisting on treacle, but the current media diet is rather more grim. I've got half a mind to write a poem: "The Walrus and the Journalist wondered where they'd been. / They wept like anything to see such quantities of spin..."

A triumphant story about National Public Radio appeared in late March on the front page of Current, the main newspaper of the public-broadcasting industry. "NPR Lands Most Listeners Ever," the headline announced, over a summary of the latest Arbitron figures: "NPR programs reached 19.5 million listeners a week last fall, and member stations drew a record 28.7 million listeners. One in seven Americans age 25 or older listens to an NPR member station each week."

Network officials are exultant about the impressive numbers. "This demonstrates that NPR is a leading source for news, information and entertainment in America," says Ken Stern, executive vice president. By far, the biggest audiences have been tuning into NPR's two weekday drive-time news programs -- with an average of 1.87 million people listening during any 15-minute period of "Morning Edition" and a 2.22 million average for "All Things Considered."