An Alternate History Of Atheism

Nick Spencer claims that the emergence of modern atheism had less to do with “slow, steady scientific advance” than the disastrous collusion of religion and politics in early modern Europe:

“Science”—if we can treat that collection of disparate disciplines as one single, coherent enterprise—did have something to do with the growth of atheism in the West, but very much less than most imagine. Those three great moments of scientific progress—the Copernican revolution in the 16th century, the scientific revolution in the 17th and the Darwinian in the 19th—were hardly atheistic at all. Copernicus was a priest; Francis Bacon, the father of modern science, devout; and Charles Darwin incredulous that anyone could imagine evolution demanded godlessness. “It seems to me absurd to doubt that a man may be an ardent Theist & an evolutionist,” he wrote in 1879.

In reality, the growth of atheism in Europe and America has much more to do with politics and, in particular, ecclesiastically backed politics, than it has with science, something that is clear even from its earliest days… Europe’s first public atheists were driven from mere scepticism and anti-clericalism to full-blown unbelief not by reason or scientific progress but primarily by a venal and violent theo-political settlement.

Which is one reason why, he goes on to argue, that only about 2% of Americans identify as atheists:

If atheism were a function of science and progress, then surely America, from the late 19th century the world’s most self-consciously modern and scientific nation, would become its atheistic capital. It didn’t—for reasons that go back to its founding.

Christianity was, of course, in the blood of the country’s first Anglophone settlers, but just as important was the fact that many American clergy enthusiastically supported the revolution. They described it as a just war and Christianity became associated with the people’s political emancipation, in a way that it did only partially in Britain, and not at all in France.

At the same time, the nation’s new constitution did not refer to God (beyond the reference to the Year of our Lord in Article VII), precluded any religious test from becoming a requirement for office, and, most famously, in its First Amendment, legislated against Congress making any law “respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof.” … This could be construed as de facto godlessness—indeed it was and is—but in reality it ended up being the nation’s strongest bulwark against atheism, denying the church the temporal power that had done it so much harm in Europe and effectively draining the wells of moral indignation on which atheists drew.

In The Wake Of The Catholic Sex Abuse Scandal

Lauren Ely portrays the Irish director John Michael McDonagh’s new film, Calvary, as capturing “the horror of the sexual abuse scandal in the Catholic Church while at the same time presenting a case for the necessity of the institutional priesthood.” The plot centers on a threat to kill the main character, Fr. James, made during confession by a parishioner who was raped by a now dead priest as a child:

What follows is a surprisingly complex, if imperfectly executed, meditation on the nature of sin and mercy, set in the epicenter of the sexual abuse scandal. We are introduced one by one to Fr. James’s parishioners, each with their own set of problems including drug use, adultery, and prostitution to name only a few. Their attitudes toward the parish priest range from begrudging respect to apathy to outright contempt. Every hackneyed anti-Church saying one can think of is used by the townspeople as a taunt against Fr. James: that the Church is only out for money, that priests are control freaks, that Catholicism has no good answer for the problem of evil. By contrast we see Fr. James doing the hard, daily work of the priest with dogged fidelity as he counsels prisoners, administers last rites in the middle of the night, and comforts a young widow. The film paints very clearly the life of the priest in stark relief to the world’s perception of what a priest is, all while allowing Fr. James to retain his spirited, gruff, flawed humanity.

S. Brent Plate sees the film grappling both with the abuse perpetrated by the Church and “what occurs in the wake of that abuse” – that is, what happens to a society when an institution like the Church collapses:

Calvary depicts a land freeing itself from the constraints of the church, from the ethics of obedience to commandments, from the compulsions of hell. Father James dwells among them, though retains little authority, like the church itself. He still hands out Communion to those who come, but the parish is hollowed out. When the church building burns down Father James is upset, even if no one seems surprised. The church itself becomes the sacrifice that allows society to live on. But at what cost is not clear.

The alternatives to the ethical and spiritual influence of religion are not all they are cracked up to be. The smart and rational-minded fritter life away with sex, drugs, and rock and roll. The commoners don’t appear to have the sense to make sense. The rich piss it away. The sensitive become self-destructive to the point of suicide. While under the shadow of a corrupt church, Calvary ultimately questions the integrity and sustainability of a secular world. The final scene repeats the opening scene, even as it inverts it. The secular confessional seems dim by comparison.

In an interview, McDonagh and Brendan Gleeson, who plays Fr. James, discussed that issue as well:

BG: For a while there, the Celtic Tiger was bling. It was quite vacuous, and not very nice to witness, to be honest. There was a kind of vacuousness as to what people were substituting for spirituality. It’s still an open question. People are coming around to perhaps understanding that they have a responsibility to contribute to the answer. That they can’t just expect to be led all the time, that they have to contribute to a positive viewpoint and get constructive about the way they intend to live their lives.

JMM: And I think what we’re saying now is, after all the crashes and all the scandals, is that I don’t think it’s led to a complete negativity. I think there are more and more people seeking [something], whether it’s a spiritual meaning or a political meaning to their lives. Sometimes you have to have a great depression, but other, more positive values can come out of that. Sometimes you have to be at the lowest ebb for things to get better.

A Different Idea Of The Divine

Jonardon Ganeri discusses (NYT) how, in Hinduism, “a personal God does not figure prominently as the source of the idea of the divine, and instead non-theistic concepts of the divine prevail”:

One such concept sees the text of the Veda as itself divine. … Recitation of the text is dish_vedapic itself a religious act. Another Hindu conception of the divine is that it is the essential reality in comparison to which all else is only concealing appearance. This is the concept one finds in the Upanishads. Philosophically the most important claim the Upanishads make is that the essence of each person is also the essence of all things’; the human self and brahman (the essential reality) are the same.

This identity claim leads to a third conception of the divine: that inwardness or interiority or subjectivity is itself a kind of divinity. On this view, religious practice is contemplative, taking time to turn one’s gaze inwards to find one’s real self; but — and this point is often missed — there is something strongly anti-individualistic in this practice of inwardness, since the deep self one discovers is the same self for all.

Ganeri also emphasizes the religion’s “long heritage of tolerance of dissent and difference” – a heritage he attributes, in part, to Hinduism’s approach to religious texts:

One explanation of this tolerance of difference is that religious texts are often not viewed as making truth claims, which might then easily contradict one another. Instead, they are seen as devices through which one achieves self transformation. Reading a religious text, taking it to heart, appreciating it, is a transformative experience, and in the transformed state one might well become aware that the claims of the text would, were they taken literally, be false. So religious texts are seen in Hinduism as “Trojan texts” (like the Trojan horse, but breaking through mental walls in disguise). Such texts enter the mind of the reader and help constitute the self. The Hindu attitude to the Bible or the Quran is the same, meaning that the sorts of disagreements that arise from literalist readings of the texts tend not to arise.

(Image: Rigveda manuscript in Devanagari, early 19th century, via Wikimedia Commons)

Godless Republicans Do Exist, Ctd

Pivoting off S.E. Cupp’s assertion, Robert Tracinski suggests atheists could play a significant role in popularizing right-wing ideas:

For those of us who don’t believe in a deity or supernatural power, the way we try to settle arguments is by pointing to observable facts. Do human beings flourish better under capitalism or socialism? Let’s look at the history of the two systems and see how they turned out. Will a welfare state eliminate poverty or perpetuate it for 50 years? It’s been 50 years, so let’s look at the result. And so on. The questions can get a lot more subtle, and the answers much deeper and philosophical, but you get the idea.

My point is not just that it is possible to offer a secular defense of free markets and liberty and the moral values that support them. My point that is these arguments have a power to persuade that cannot be matched just by quoting chapter and verse from the Bible. … We speak a language most people on the Right are already speaking. But it also makes us ideally suited for reaching out to a wider audience and showing them they can embrace free markets, for example, without having to embrace a conservative theology.

Razib Khan raises an eyebrow:

Trancinski goes on to talk about the relationship between conservatism and science at some length. I can speak here personally, as I am a scientist and a conservative. One issue is while most liberals may not be scientists, most scientists are liberals. Those who are not are invariably libertarians. I would cop to being conservative, albeit with a strong libertarian streak. And that makes me exceptional.

The culture of scientists and culture of religious conservatives are so opposed to each other that a Christian evangelical friend who is an evolutionary biologist once told me he was asked literally every day how he could be a scientist and a Christian. I have been in the room several times where scientists talk about how they can outreach to the broader public, like conservatives, assuming of course that there were no conservatives in the room. I think this correlation is a logical necessity. It’s an empirical sociological fact. And we have to deal with in our political and policy culture.

It Takes All Kinds To Make A Dungeon

Jennifer Tilly goes to town as a dominatrix in a NSFW clip from Dancing at the Blue Iguana:

Mitsu Mark shares what she learned as a professional dominatrix who worked at three commercial dungeons in NYC. One point she stresses – her clients didn’t fit a “type”:

I’m often nudged to confirm the stereotype of the dungeon client as a high-powered executive, a controlling breadwinner who comes to a dominatrix because it is his only release from the stress of his daily alpha role. I’m sure that does exist. Successful businessmen do make up a good portion of dungeon clientele, but that’s probably a result of the price of entry. However, I never had a typical client demographic that otherwise differed much from that of the greater New York City male population (I rarely had female clients, which is another can of worms).

I saw guys from a huge variety of economic backgrounds, nationalities, and ethnicities, with all sorts of career paths, social group affiliations, political leanings, and religions.

I had older (okay, mostly older—and some way older) clients, and clients who looked like they’d saved up their allowances to see me (we did card those). Some were douchebags; some were sweethearts. Some were shy—and others chatted up every person they encountered on the way in, talked through the entire session to me as well as on their phones, and asked to be paraded down the streets of Manhattan in pink tutus. Some were virgins; some were married with children. Some were out, and some were paranoid about being identified to the point of wearing sunglasses through their sessions—well, one guy did that.

The men I saw walk through the dungeon doors represented all walks of life. Their only common denominator was the dungeon, of all things.

The Strategic Dimension Of Obama’s Iraq Campaign

First, the good news. Some progress has been made in aiding the Yazidi refugees trapped on Sinjar Mountain:

Iraqi Kurdish security forces have opened a road to Sinjar Mountain in northwestern Iraq, rescuing more than 5,000 Yazidis trapped there after running away from fighters from the Islamic State (IS) group, a Kurdish army spokesman has told Al Jazeera. “I can confirm that we succeeded in reaching the mountains and opening a road for the refugees,” said Halgord Hikmet, a spokesman for the peshmergas the Kurdish security forces.

But with the president acknowledging that the new air campaign in Iraq will last for months (at least), there is obviously a strategic element to this intervention beyond the immediate humanitarian objective. Meghan O’Sullivan worries that by framing the campaign as primarily humanitarian, Obama risks obscuring those “equally strong” strategic goals:

Whatever the reasoning, relying solely on humanitarian arguments to justify American action could create problems for the Obama administration down the road. While the trapped Yezidis must be rescued, this is not the only objective that limited U.S. military force can and should achieve. In fact, if initial reports are accurate, the first airstrikes were not against ISIS at Sinjar mountain, which is near Syria, but against targets near Erbil, far to the east, nearer the Iranian border. Such strikes are welcome — Kurdish forces have fought alongside the U.S. in more than one war — but the rationale is more strategic than humanitarian. While Americans are unlikely to protest this distinction today, the White House may open itself up to criticism of overstepping its self-defined mandate if it continues to use limited airpower for strategic gains after the immediate humanitarian crisis is resolved.

Phillip Lohaus criticizes Obama for having no coherent strategy, arguing that he can’t take on the project of defeating ISIS while forswearing the deployment of ground forces:

Right now, the administration is only making things harder for itself. The President’s statement that he will send no additional American troops to Iraq, though politically soothing at home, also reassures ISIS that US involvement will remain limited. At home, the President has yet to explain precisely why the prospect of genocide was not reason enough to stay in Iraq in 2007, but that now, apparently, it is reason enough to strike.  Amidst this strategic confusion, it’s no wonder that the President’s foreign policy approval ratings are at an all-time low.

Let’s be clear: no one is advocating for sending hundreds of thousands of troops back to Iraq. But, as evidenced by the presence of American advisers and now air strikes, the decision of whether we should involve ourselves or not has already been made. What’s less clear is whether the President has defined his objectives and whether he is willing to dedicate what is required to achieve them.

So mission creep is a real danger here, and the president’s pledge of no ground forces is in doubt, especially if he wants to cripple ISIS permanently. Such an objective could require thousands of American soldiers:

Military experts say tactical commanders will want more ground forces. Forward air controllers could provide more precise targeting information. U.S. advisers could support the Kurdish forces fighting the militants. And U.S. commanders may need to expand their intelligence effort on the ground. In turn, U.S. forces might need a forward operating base with a security perimeter, more force protection and a logistical supply line. Medevac capabilities may require a helicopter detachment and a small aviation maintenance shed.

“You’re talking about a 10,000- to 15,000-soldier effort to include maintenance, and medevac and security,” said retired Army Col. Peter Mansoor, who served as executive officer to David Petraeus during the 2007 surge in Iraq and now is a professor of military history at Ohio State University. “But that is the price you’re going to pay if you want to roll back [Islamic State]. You can’t just snap your fingers and make it go away,” Mansoor said.

Benjamin Friedman calls the goals of the intervention “a muddle”:

The conventional wisdom in Washington is that we should aide moderate opponents of Bashir al-Assad’s government. But aiding any rebels there hurts the main Syrian force going after ISIS. We cannot foster insurgency in Syria and suppress one Iraq without contradiction.  The president says that the bombing in Iraq falls under the “broader strategy that empowers Iraqis to confront this crisis” by creating a “new government that represents the legitimate interests of all Iraqis.” He promises increased U.S. support once a new government forms. The implicit message is that if the next Iraqi government has someone other than Nouri al-Maliki heading it and takes steps to deal with Sunni grievances, more support will flow. But bombing ISIS might increase Maliki or some other Shi’ite leader’s security, reducing their incentive to give ground to Sunnis.

But Saletan doubts that this is the beginning of a new war, arguing that military intervention “doesn’t have to fit into a strategy for military victory”:

It can make sense on more modest terms, as part of a larger political process that is moving in the right direction and is driven by other players. When miscreants such as ISIS endanger that process, a timely use of force can contain the damage and preserve the momentum. We don’t have to wage a larger war in Iraq.

One of his reasons for thinking so:

ISIS will destroy itself. We don’t have to stamp out ISIS, because its growth is inherently limited. It picks too many fights and alienates too many people. It has already taken on the Iraqi army, the Kurds, the Turks, Iraqi Baathists, and many Iraqi Sunnis. Now it’s going head to head against Syria’s armed forces. As if that weren’t enough, ISIS went into Lebanon this week. ISIS also antagonizes civilians in its territory. People in Mosul are rebelling against its oppression. It won’t last.

Reihan supports the intervention but has qualms about the long-term implications:

I am a pessimist. Though I sincerely hope that the limited airstrikes authorized by the president will be enough to force ISIS into retreat, I don’t expect this gruesome war to end tomorrow. We need to start thinking about the Yazidis and the Christians and the other persecuted Iraqis who will need to find shelter somewhere other than Iraq. The United States welcomed as many as 130,000 refugees from South Vietnam after the fall of Saigon in 1975. We might have to welcome just as many from Iraq in the years to come.

And Robin Wright warns of “a broader danger”:

The direct American presence may galvanize more jihadis to the Islamic State. There was no Al Qaeda presence in Iraq until after the United States deployed troops in 2003, an act that fuelled Al Qaeda’s local appeal, on territorial, political, and religious grounds. In Iraq and Syria, ISIS is now estimated to have between ten thousand and twenty thousand fighters, including a couple of thousand with Western passports and a hundred or so from the United States.

As the United States confronts ISIS, the dangers that Americans will be targeted at home grow. Last month, the F.B.I.’s director, James B. Comey, said that the domestic threat emanating from ISIS “keeps me up at night,” that ISIS was a potential “launching ground” for attacks of the kind that occurred on September 11, 2001. The Attorney General, Eric H. Holder, Jr., told ABC News that ISIS, particularly its American jihadis, “gives us really extreme, extreme concern. . . . In some ways, it’s more frightening than anything I think I’ve seen as Attorney General.”

The Secret To ISIS’s Success

Josh Marshall passes along an email from a “TPM Reader who’s former US military intelligence/counter-terrorism ops and has worked as a military contractor in Iraq”:

Why is ISIL so successful? Simply put they attack using simple combined arms but they hold two force multipliers – suicide bombers and a psychological force multiplier called TSV – Terror Shock Value. TSV is the projected belief (or reality) that the terror force that you are opposing will do anything to defeat you and once defeated will do the same to your family, friends and countrymen. TSV for ISIL is the belief that they will blow themselves up, they will capture and decapitate you and desecrate your body because they are invincible with what the Pakistanis call Jusbah E Jihad “Blood Lust for Jihad”.

I have worked the Iraq mission since 1987 and lived in and out of Iraq since 2003. TSV was Saddam’s most effective tool and there is some innate characteristic of the Iraqis that immobilizes them when faced with a vicious, assuredly deadly foe who will do exactly as they have done to others – and they will unsuccessfully try to bargain their way out of death by capitulating. The Kurds are not immune to ISIL’s TSV -90% of which is propaganda seen on Facebook, Twitter and al-Arabiya. The Kurds have not fought a combat action of any size since 2003 and like the Iraqi Army it will take the Americans to give them the spine to get them to the first hurdle – they need a massive win to break the spell of ISIL’s TSV.

But Jonathan Freedland contends that the Islamic State’s stunning success is mostly thanks to the weakness of the Syrian and Iraqi states:

The state structures of both Iraq and Syria have all but collapsed. The result is a power vacuum of a kind that would have been recognised in the lawless Europe of seven or eight centuries ago – and which IS has exploited with the ruthless discipline of those long ago baronial warlords who turned themselves into European princes.

“Islamic State are jihadis with MBAs,” says [Iraq scholar Toby] Dodge, speaking of a movement so modern it has its own gift shop. He notes its combination of fierce religious ideology, financial acumen and tactical nous. “It’s Darwinian,” he adds, describing IS leader Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi and his inner circle as those strong enough to have survived the US hammering of al-Qaida in Iraq between 2007 and 2009. But what has been crucial, Dodge says, is “not ancient hatreds but this collapse of state power”.

But Robert Beckhusen thinks ISIS has major vulnerabilities:

Here’s the problem for ISIS. Since ISIS fighters operate semi-conventionally, they are easy pickings for these warplanes. It’s easier to hit vehicles and fixed artillery sites from the air than it is to strike individual insurgent fighters.

It’s possible ISIS has limited anti-aircraft weapons, including shoulder-fired Stingers it took from the Iraqis. Indeed, the loss or capture of a U.S. pilot is a terrifying prospect for the White House. But the bulk of ISIS’s anti-aircraft weapons are DShK and ZU-23–2 heavy machine guns that the terror group has used with brutal effectiveness against Iraq’s dwindling helicopter gunship force—but which don’t stand much of a chance against fast, high-flying fighter planes.

Others disagree that the group is vulnerable to airstrikes:

The problem, some analysts point out, is that airstrikes tend to be most helpful against troops when they are massing. As it stands now, IS is “too big and too dispersed,” argues Christopher Harmer, senior Navy analyst at the Institute for the Study of War. “They aren’t vulnerable to air strikes the way the Republican Guard was with their armored tanks and artillery tubes,” Mr. Harmer says. “Yes, ISIS has some of that – and we can hit it and should – but, fundamentally it’s a light infantry terrorist organization. You can’t beat those guys by dropping a couple of bombs here and there.”

Another way to damage ISIS is to lower its cash flow. Britain is taking steps to do just that:

Britain hopes a diplomatic initiative it introduced in the U.N. Security Council on Friday will contain Islamic extremists in Iraq and Syria by curtailing their fundraising. The plan is to quash their illicit oil and gold exports, prevent ransom kidnappings, and hobble recruitment to stymie the establishment of an Islamic caliphate straddling the two Middle Eastern countries.

Are Liberals Killing Art?

Jed Perl makes that case in TNR, arguing that the “erosion of art’s imaginative ground, often blamed on demagogues of the left and the right, is taking place in the very heart of the liberal, educated, cultivated audience — the audience that arts professionals always imagined they could count on”:

It is relatively easy to point to the deformations of art at the hands of politically correct left-wingers and cheap-shot moralists on the right, as the late Robert Hughes did in the fast-paced, witty series of lectures that he published as Culture of Complaint in 1993. It is far more difficult to explain why people who pride themselves on their carefully reasoned view of the world want to argue that art is not a value in and of itself, but rather a vehicle or a medium or a vessel through which some other human value or values are expressed. That these thoughts are often voiced indirectly makes them no less significant. Indeed, such thoughts may be all the more significant because they are being expressed by critics and scholars who would deny that they are in any way discomfited by the unique powers of the arts. An illiberal view of art is gaining ground, even among the liberal audience.

Alyssa finds common ground with Perl:

I sometimes find myself heaving sighs at pieces I once might have written myself, like Vox’s recent offering “The Bachelor franchise is sexist and needs to go,” from reporter Kelsey McKinney. Of course “The Bachelor” franchise is grotesquely, bizarrely sexist. The entire conceit involves generating drama by making its cast go through intensified versions of antiquated courtship rituals and making them feel bad for themselves if those rituals do not produce a happy result. But in keeping with Perl’s objection, I think we ought to be a bit more careful about declaring that culture “ought to go” on the grounds of its politics. …

[T]here is something suspiciously anti-competitive about the idea that something should go away just because it has bad values. It is an impulse akin to the hope that a politician you dislike will be indicted or caught with a person not their legal spouse, eliminating the need to actually beat them at the polls. This is an end run around figuring out why people like what they like. It suggests a lack of confidence that liberal values will be compelling and a wish to ignore the reasons that something retrograde can also be extremely popular.

Dreher nods along:

Perl is addressing liberals in a liberal magazine, but his point is universal. True art cannot be reduced to the sum of its creator’s parts. It comes from somewhere particular, but it will have achieved the quality of universality that allows it to stand alone from its creator. Your understanding of Dante’s verse is far richer if you understand the historical, theological, and philosophical sources of his vision. But his lines are no less beautiful and true absent that understanding.

But Mostafa Heddaya sighs that Perl “seems, as usual, to be at war with straw men”:

Like much of his criticism, Perl here seems to be talking to no one in particular, bellowing at the present from an oblique angle. And for someone drawing from the ambered debates of modernism, it seems deeply strange for him to blindly assert that emotions are not political, or that politics cannot be emotional. And without getting into an intellectual history of art criticism and history (a subject intelligently surveyed in a recent article by Ingrid Rowland in The New Republic), which might explain a turn away from the belle-lettristic art discourse he seems to advocate but not adhere to, Perl’s recycling of antique arguments under the guise of contrarian thought is tiresome.

Best Cover Song Ever?

The Dish staff provides a lot of great fodder for the popular reader thread. Dish editor Matt writes:

What do you get when a country legend hits the studio with an aging punk star to record a Bob Marley song? You get this version of “Redemption Song” by Johnny Cash and The Clash’s Joe Strummer, found on the former’s posthumously-released collection of rarities, alternative takes, and covers, Unearthed:

While not as famous as Cash’s cover of “Hurt,” I’ve always loved this recording’s spiritual power, made all the more striking by the fact that both men would be dead by the time the world would hear it. It’s also a fitting song for these low-down times, a kind of protest song marked by Marley’s prophetic religion – and who better to sing about deliverance by “the hand of the Almighty” than a man with the voice of God?

Dish editor Tracy writes:

I nominate Cibo Matto’s very ’90s bossa nova cover of Nirvana’s “About A Girl” and the Talking Heads’ classic cover of Al Green’s “Take Me To The River”:

Dish editor Chas, a former DJ, writes:

If we’re going to talk about great cover songs, then we have to talk about jazz trio The Bad Plus. They include at least one cover on every album, using brilliant arrangements that are often distant departures from the source material. Notable examples include Black Sabbath’s Iron Man, Rush’s Tom Sawyer and Blondie’s Heart of Glass, but my favorite is their version of Vangelis’ Chariots Of Fire Theme (and I don’t even like the original song):

And while we’re on jazz, be sure to check out Brad Mehldau’s freakin’ incredible cover of Radiohead’s Paranoid Android.

Also, on the off chance anyone hasn’t mentioned it yet, this really popular podcast only plays covers and the few times I’ve listened to it I’ve been pretty impressed.

Here’s Dishtern Phoebe:

I nominate Rufus Wainwright covering “Everybody Knows” by Leonard Cohen:

Wainwright and Cohen are now family, which is part of what makes the cover special, but it’s also a great song and cover. And Wainwright’s sparkly shirt in the video, also great.

And from Dish staffer Brian, a talented banjo player who performs around Brooklyn:

The overwhelming support for Jimi’s version of All Along the Watchtower provides an opportunity to point out that Hendrix had some of his own work reinvented in the bluegrass world. While we’ll never see the likes of Hendrix again, it could be argued that Jerry Douglas has done for the dobro what Jimi did for the Stratocaster:

Tony Rice’s cover of Norman Blake’s Church Street Blues speaks for itself. It’s probably my favorite thing on the internet, aside from the Dish:

And while we’re on the subject of bluegrass guitar covers, here’s Doc Watson shredding House of the Rising Sun:

Dish editor Jonah writes:

The piano reduction was the original cover song. It’s how Franz Liszt, the greatest pop star of the 19th century, covered Beethoven’s symphonies, and it’s how this anonymous YouTuber covers Radiohead’s “Paranoid Android”:

I stumbled across this video while searching for the better-known rendition by jazz pianist Brad Mehldau, but found that in some ways, I liked this one better. It’s a shorter, more approachable spin on Mehldau’s interpretation, albeit not quite as polished, and adds some flourishes that classical piano fans will appreciate. Plus, the bird’s eye view of the hands is a great way to watch a talented pianist in action.

Dish editor Jessie offers several great ones:

Ok, not exactly deep cuts here, but surprised no one’s mentioned: Tina & Ike covering CCR’s “Proud Mary”, Otis Redding covering the Rolling Stones “Satisfaction”, Devo doing the same, Aretha Franklin covering Otis Redding’s “Respect”:

… more Aretha Franklin covering “The Weight” by The Band, and Marvin Gaye covering Gladys Knight & the Pips’ “I Heard It Through The Grapevine.” And this guy:

And lastly, Dish editor Chris writes:

I’ve been responsible for curating the cover thread, so many of my own favorites are already mentioned. (And you can blame me for the bias towards Girl Talk and Cartman – though the Christopher Walken twist is even better.) But one great cover that I haven’t seen among the thousands of emails is Antony Hegarty’s tribute to Leonard Cohen’s “If It Be Your Will”:

I first heard that song in the Film Forum premiere of the Leonard Cohen documentary, I’m Your Man, whose soundtrack is a font of great covers, including the Wainwright one Phoebe mentions above. (Teddy Thompson’s take on “Tonight Will Be Fine” is another.) But circling back to Antony, if the goal is to jump genres, don’t miss his warbling rendition of Beyonce’s “Crazy In Love”:

The Tea Party Isn’t Over

Incumbent Vote

Silver finds that incumbent Republicans still have plenty of reason to worry about primary challengers:

Between 2004 and 2008, just four of 39 Republican senators running for renomination, or 10 percent of them, got less than 65 percent of the primary vote. This year, five of 10 have fallen below that threshold: not only Roberts, Cochran and McConnell, but also Lindsey Graham of South Carolina and John Cornyn of Texas, who both benefited from running against divided fields.

In fact, the average share of the primary vote received by Republican incumbent senators so far this year is 73 percent. Not only is that lower than 2004 through 2008, when incumbents averaged 89 percent of the vote — it’s also lower than 2010 and 2012, the years when the tea party was supposedly in ascendency, when GOP incumbents got an average of 78 percent.

He concludes that “there’s no evidence the threat from primary challenges has been reduced going forward. It may even still be increasing.” Bernstein isn’t so sure about that:

Think about general elections in districts dominated by one party. Sometimes, the out-party won’t even bother fielding a candidate, and the incumbent will receive 100 percent of the two-party vote. Other times, a certain loser can be found to at least show the flag. Depending on the district, that hopeless candidate might be destined for, say, 30 to 40 percent of the vote. If a systematic change takes place that makes it far more likely for hopeless losers to file in those districts, the average incumbent margin of victory is going to be much lower — but the chances of incumbent victory won’t change.

That might be what’s happening in Senate primaries. Whether it’s campaign finance, or institutional changes within the Republican Party, or some other change, it’s possible that it’s easier to enter races for hopeless losers who nonetheless are capable of running something resembling a real campaign, and therefore of winning a solid share of the primary vote. Without, in fact, making it any more likely that incumbents will lose.

But Waldman asserts that the “Tea Party wins when it wins, and it wins when it loses”:

That’s the magic of an insurgent movement like the Tea Party. A win strengthens it by showing its members that victories are possible if they fight hard enough. And because the movement has organized itself around the idea of establishment Republican betrayal, its losses only further prove that it’s doing the right thing. Furthermore, if ordinary Republicans have to become Tea Partiers to beat Tea Partiers (even if only for a while), the movement’s influence is greater, not less.