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Roy Scranton is learning to stop worrying and love the academy in Princeton, New Jersey. His stories, poems, and essays have been published in Boston Review, the New York Times, LIT, The Massachusetts Review, Theory & Event, and elsewhere. He is one of the editors of Fire and Forget, published by Da Capo press in February 2013.

27 April 2013

Lament of the Makers: Opening Remarks

My opening remarks for the symposium "Lament of the Makers: Conceptualism and Poetic Freedom," held at Princeton University, April 26, 2013.



I write, or some thing called an I writes I, or some thing--some animal--I call an I performs a series of internal locutions and external gestures to produce language both imagined--aurally, that is, through the activated echo of my own voice played back without external vocalization, in between errant guitar licks and phenomenological noise--I mean, trying out phrases to ring them, to test their imagined sound and immanent logic, then typing them--some thing called an I performs an act of signification in relation to imagined others, say you, so something is happening now, these opening remarks--language both imagined and now concrete, a thing in the world, first a google doc on a screen at a research station in a university library (and at once a google doc in the cloud, data on a server somewhere in The Dalles, Oregon, Council Bluffs, Iowa, or Hamina, Finland, pulses flickering on and off, ones and zeros, light, energy, all over), then and now again (although now as I write this, the now to which I refer is of course strictly imaginary, a premonition plummeting toward me out of the future, and the now when I speak now of course is not the same now that I’d written) now concrete in the passage of air through vents of flesh in my neck, vibrations striking the eardrums of many language-hungry humans in a room, maybe even some interested and attentive ones.

I’ll try to be brief.

Lament of the Makers: Conceptualism and Poetic Freedom


Yesterday, here at Princeton, we hosted a symposium on "Conceptualism and Poetic Freedom." Our speakers included Vanessa Place, Mónica de la Torre, Jena Osman, Timothy Donnelly, and Kent Johnson. It was an rich afternoon of intense discussion, and I feel lucky to have been a part of it. Joshua Kotin helped bring it all together, and Jeff Dolven moderated the panel with his usual insouciant brilliance. As well, we were very grateful for the support of the Lewis Center for the Arts, the Program in Latin American Studies, the Princeton University 250th Anniversary Fund, and the English Department.

The afternoon proved an unforgettable, and the discussion goes on. Vanessa Place's keynote is being published on the Harriet Blog in five parts. I am publishing below my prompt, from the email I sent all the participants, which was intended to open up the conversation. My next post will be my opening remarks. More may follow. And so the semiotic circulation continues. 

Thanks to everybody who participated and who made the event possible.

07 March 2013

America ("Song of Pleasure")


Written for a performance of Cornelius Cardew’s Schooltime Compositions, staged on November 4, 2008 by the theater group Object Collection. This piece uses material from Cardew’s score.

This talk is different from the one I had planned. Twenty thousand, twenty thousand five hundred and forty. Twenty-one thousand. Behind the digital noise in my ears the hum of recycled air, the vibrato of engines. This talk is different from the one...

Every time I fly I think of leaving America and coming back. I think of coming back and leaving. I think what is this I’m leaving, a land mass, a language, a principality of the earth, friends and family. I think what is this I’m coming back to, the harsh nasal tone, the blind self-regard, the guts and assets, money, America.

This talk is different from the one I had originally planned.

ﺯﻴﺎﺭﺓ
a visit

ﺍﻝ ﻤﺩﻴﻥ ﺨﻀﺭﺍﺀ
the green city

ﺼﺎ ﺤﺏ
friend

I had meant to record something on the Staten Island Ferry, some- thing on a boat, maybe Central Park. I had meant to talk about what I was asked to talk about, performance and politics, say something philosophical, maybe deep. I had meant to name-check Merleau-Ponty. I had meant to name-check, cite, and argue. Twenty-one thousand three hundred and eighty-six. Twenty-one thousand seven hundred and two. Twenty-two thousand. Twenty-two thousand five hundred sixty-one. 

Every time I fly I think of trying to get away from America, of trying to get out from under the shadow, of trying to see things without a dollar bill in the middle. I think of my uniform, and my rifle, and I think of places in other tongues, I think of the rest of the world.


12 February 2013

"The End of War is a Funny Time"


(x-posted at Doonesbury's The Sandbox)

My friend Jake came back from Afghanistan a few months ago. When he first got back, we got drinks to talk about a project we were working on together, Fire and Forget, and I asked him how his tour was. “The end of war is a funny time,” he growled, then brushed the question off the bar with a deft flick. Then he turned, hunched over his Dewar’s, and went into some seriously deep thoughts about literary immortality — not in history but in the words, like, the transcendental arrangement of verbs and nouns in a sentence. From there, he led into Nabokov, and we danced around some philosophy before striking deep into “the modern condition,” modern meaning contemporary, twenty-first century America. Our buddy Phil showed up and pulled us back from the brink, and we left the problem on the bar, soaking in spilled scotch, and found ourselves a table in the back where we could really get talking.

13 November 2012

Supporting the Troops


The following is from remarks I made on a Veteran's Day panel at the Woodrow Wilson School for Public and International Affairs, at Princeton University. The topic of the panel was "Support the Troops."

The phrase “Support the Troops” always brings to mind for me the flight home from Iraq on leave in the winter of 2003. A corkscrew take-off out of Baghdad on a C-130, a series of disorienting short-layover flights from Kuwait to Ramstein to Atlanta to Dallas, and when we deplaned at Dallas-Ft. Worth, there were all these people lined up on both sides of the concourse, forming a gantlet, cheering and handing out candy, reaching to shake our hands, holding signs and shouting. We were jet-lagged from flying halfway across the world and hadn’t slept well or much, so the crowds seemed surreal, even hallucinatory. Santa Claus lunged out of the thronging bodies and pushed York Peppermint Patties at us. A gentle, sincere woman with frizzy blond hair, somebody’s mom, stopped me to tell me how brave I was, how much it meant, and how grateful she was for my service. She pressed my hands in hers and her eyes got misty. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you.”

I flashed back on some prisoners we’d taken one night, one troublemaker and four guys in the wrong place at the wrong time, their faces wrapped in abdominal bandages, their hands zip-stripped, all of them processed into the labyrinth of the military prison system in Iraq. Did she know what she was thanking me for, this American mom? She must have thought she did. I wasn’t so sure.

That experience landing in Texas was the first of many such encounters, with people on both ends of the political spectrum, over those two weeks on leave, after coming back from Iraq several months later, and even after getting out of the Army. I can count on one hand the number of people who have been disagreeable after finding out I’d been in the military, or in Iraq, while the many who thanked me and praised my courage are numberless. I’m proud of their admiration and gratitude, even though all I’d done as a soldier was to do my job, which wasn’t much to speak of, and even though what I’d seen in Iraq had left me ashamed of American policy, pessimistic about how little people back home understood the conflicts overseas, and deeply skeptical of the public’s trust in the military.

As time has gone on, my skepticism about the public’s trust in the military has grown into alarm as that trust has metastasized into uncritical adulation. The deference and veneration that the public, the media, and parts of the government show the US military—even if it’s often merely sentimental—is corrosive and dangerous. In a recent article in the Atlantic Monthly, “General Failure,” Thomas E. Ricks argues that society’s veneration of the military has helped obscure how the Army’s top brass have failed again and again over the past decade, both to complete their missions and to maintain professional standards.

“To a shocking degree,” he writes, “the Army’s leadership ranks have become populated by mediocre officers, placed in positions where they are likely to fail.” He goes on:
Ironically, our generals have grown worse as they have been lionized more and more by a society now reflexively deferential to the military. The Bush administration has been roundly… criticized for its delusive approach to the war in Iraq and its neglect of the war in Afghanistan. Yet the serious failures of our military leaders in these conflicts have escaped almost all notice. No one is pushing these leaders to step back and examine the shortcomings of their institution. These are dangerous developments.
Dangerous developments at every level, and responsibility for the problem lies as much outside the military as within it. America’s cultural veneration of the soldier-hero, Navy SEAL übermenschen, and the august Petraeus reflect Congressional and Executive policy that bends to the needs of the security-industrial complex, and help shore up an institutional culture that hides its failures behind bureaucracy and machismo.

One of the most grotesque failures in military leadership has been in protecting its own soldiers from rape, sexual assault, and sexual harassment. According to the Department of Defense, about one in three military women has been sexually assaulted. About one in five screen positive for Military Sexual Trauma, or MST. And there should be no doubt that every single woman in the military has encountered sexual harassment. The problem affects men as well: while the victims of military sexual assault are predominately female, in the lower enlisted ranks, and under the age of 25, one in a hundred men screen positive for MST, and men make up 12% of the reported victims of sexual assault.

Recent charges against 82nd Airborne General Jeffrey Sinclair for forcibly sodomizing one of his female subordinates are only the latest scandal to erupt from an institution that, like the Catholic Church, has spent more energy protecting sexual predators than prosecuting them. As the British Daily Mail notes, echoing Ricks, “It is highly unusual for a senior member of the armed forces to be removed from their position, investigated and face a court martial. There have been only two cases in recent years.” It’s also highly unusual for the military to investigate and prosecute reports of sexual assault, which is unconscionable, but even more horrific when you consider the Department of Defense estimates that only 14 to 16 percent of all sexual assaults in the military are ever even reported. Let’s look at the numbers from the DOD’s FY2011 Report on Sexual Assault: there were 3,192 reports, out of more than 19,000 estimated sexual assaults. Against those 3,192 reports, only 1,518 cases were considered actionable. 240 of those went to trial. Of those that went to trial, 191 were convicted "of charges," which could be any charges related to the case, not necessarily sexual assault. Doing the numbers, we can see that if you sexually assault a fellow service member in the US military, you have at least a 90% chance of getting away with it without serious punishment. Conversely, if you’re assaulted, you have at best a 10% chance of seeing justice.

The military says the problem is a few bad apples, and that they’ve got the situation under control. New policies have instituted higher-level supervision of “important” cases, and the Department of Defense has a campaign to raise awareness about sexual assault, accentuating service members' responsibility for each other: if you see a buddy pressuring a reluctant woman to go home with him, their ads suggest, you should step in and distract him. We can’t afford to be naïve about any of this. Institutional supervision and lackluster PSAs are no solution at all. In the words of my Drill Sergeant from Basic Training, it’s the wrong answer.

The real problems are structural and cultural. Since unit commanders are responsible for judicial decisions, and even for deciding which cases are worthy of investigating, a woman raped by a superior often finds her chain of command working against her. Some evidence suggests that as many as twenty-five percent of the women who don’t report sexual assault refrain from doing so because the commander they’re supposed to report to is the very man who assaulted them. What’s more, the risk-averse culture that Thomas Ricks describes gives unit commanders little reason to investigate rapes and assaults. Prosecuting sexual predators makes a unit commander look bad, because it makes his unit look like a problem. This kind of logic runs up the chain, until it combines with the sense of privilege that comes with rank, and produces a creep like General Sinclair.

Women who do report are often subject to hazing and further assaults, while their assaulters are often protected by old-boys networks and collective chauvinism. In some cases, in fact, it’s the victims who wind up being punished, threatened with charges, or driven out of the armed forces. Consider Air Force Sergeant Marti Ribeiro, who was raped at Bagram Air Force Base, then told if she pressed charges she’d be charged herself with dereliction of duty because she didn’t use her weapon against her attacker. Or Sergeant Rebekah Havrila, an EOD specialist and veteran of Afghanistan, who was harassed and assaulted by her team leader, then raped by a fellow soldier. After three years of investigation, the military dropped her case. Or take Claire Russo, a Marine lieutenant and Iraq war veteran who was raped by a superior officer, then told by her chain of command that because she was sodomized they could not press charges. It’s only because she was raped off-post and her case taken up by civilian authorities that her rapist was eventually caught. These are just a few of the thousands of reported and tens of thousands of unreported sexual assaults that happen every year in the military. Reports of gang rapes, institutionalized harassment and obstruction, reprisals, and top brass who seem to think they live outside the rules of society are going to keep popping up until military leaders are held accountable.

Make no mistake: although the problems of sexual assault are systemic, and military culture is rife with misogyny, male chauvinism, and a CYA mentality that gives officers and NCOs more incentive to hide problems than deal with them openly, there is a lot the military gets right. I was proud to hear Prof. Grafton’s remarks this morning at the chapel on the virtues of the US military, such as its real camaraderie, meritocratic ideals, valorization of education, and professional ethos. The military often holds itself to a higher standard, as it should, since the armed forces are public servants in the highest trust: given the power to use deadly force in the nation’s name, our military officers and NCOs bear the gravest responsibility. But it’s precisely those officers and NCOs who need to do a gut-check and quit believing their own press. Military leadership shouldn’t ever get a free pass. It needs to earn the trust the public places in it, and keep earning it, day after day, with every decision.

Civilian leadership and the American public, on the other hand, need to leaven their respect for the military with critical oversight. When it comes to “supporting the troops,” the most crucial thing we could do today is to bring greater scrutiny and pressure down on the military leadership that failed us in Iraq and Afghanistan, and that continues to fail the thousands of service members every year who are sexually assaulted by colleagues and superiors. “The troops” have been left out in the rain again and again, none more so than the women who brave sexism and enemy fire to serve their country, only to be preyed on and degraded by the very leadership that depends on them.

Representative Jackie Speier, of California, has sponsored legislation that would help. HR3435, the STOP Act, would establish a Sexual Assault Oversight and Response Council in the DOD, assign a Director of Military Prosecutions, establish a sexual offender database, and, most important, take sexual assault cases out of the chain of command, placing them under the jurisdiction of the Sexual Assault Oversight and Response office. HR 3435 has 133 co-sponsors, is currently in the House Committee on Armed Services, and should be supported.

This is a good start, but we need to do more. Allies such as the United Kingdom, Canada, and Australia have taken sexual assault out of the military chain of command entirely, establishing external agencies and civilian oversight responsible to no military commander’s career, but to service members at large. We need to do the same. In the meantime, organizations like Service Women’s Action Network and Protect Our Defenders are fighting for the rights and safety of our soldiers, marines, sailors, and Air Force personnel, and need your help. Broadly, in the way we think and talk about the military, we need to check our uncritical adulation, and remember that the US military is in the public service, staffed by fallible, self-interested human beings, and entrusted with immense power and responsibility. Whether we’re dealing with General Ricardo Sanchez, who issued the memoranda that made Abu Ghraib possible but let a handful of Specialists and Privates take the fall, or with General Jeffrey Sinclair, charged with assaulting and sodomizing his subordinates, or with the countless mid-level officers and NCOs who make local decisions to let criminals go unpunished, sweep problems under the rug, and cover their own asses, our military leadership must be held accountable.

On this Veteran’s Day, marking the ninety-forth anniversary of the end of a war in which generals threw men at each other like meat into a grinder, the best way to support the troops might just begin with critique.

22 October 2012

The Last Few Miles

I'm a slow runner, especially at longer distances, and I expect to hit a 10:40 pace on marathon day in two weeks. Not impressive, but for having been a smoker for fifteen years, dealing with mild asthma (sux to yr assmar), having stubby legs, and up until the age of twenty-five having never run at all unless I was forced to by PE teachers, bullies, or dogs, I feel that just finishing a marathon (at thirty-six years old) is a pretty good start. Next marathon I can train to time, get that shit under 4 hours.

Each long run I've taken--four twenty-milers now, an eighteen, a couple fifteens (leaving aside the medium-length six- to twelve-mile runs)--has approached fogged in anxiety: can I do it? will it rain? what if I twist an ankle ten miles out and have to limp back? On top of the worry, there's also simple animal resistance. I know it's going to hurt, especially those last few miles, especially those last few hills, and my mind quails before the needless punishment.