Recently in Navel-Gazing Category

"The Old Dominion is now the New Dominion, particularly in the suburban and exurban counties north of the Rappahannock River. Barack Obama could not have carried Virginia as it once was. But he is running even with John McCain in a paradoxical state that was home to the Confederacy's capital but also gave the nation its first elected African American governor, Doug Wilder, in 1989." E.J. Dionne takes a look at Obama's prospects in Virginia. I must say, assuming I'm still here and/or around DC by November, it'll be nice to vote in an honest-to-goodness swing state for once in my life.

Also, a programming note: I managed to secure a "new media" press pass for the DNC's "Big Tent" in Denver. (Whether it was due to GitM's longevity, some Dem name-dropping by yours truly, or they just let everyone who signed up through the gates, I know not.) In any case, I bought a (pricey) flight yesterday and will be on the ground and reporting in from the Mile High City during the Democratic National Convention next month. Should be grand. (And if you'll be there too, drop me a line.)

Hello all. After a long week of moving, cleaning, filling up a nearby storage unit, and unpacking the mobile dissertation office, Berk and I are back on the grid: He's acclimatizing (again) to my parents' house, and I'm acclimatizing (again) to the strange and seemingly unsustainable environment that is late-stage car culture. In order to procure a bag of dog food, we drove along the highway for two exits, pulled into one of an endless sea of strip-malls with parking lots the size of Morningside Park, and entered a super-air-conditioned palace, brimming over with a cornucopia of All Things Pet-Related. Now, I understand this is highly normal, but it seemed really bizarre at the time. Hey, it's been awhile.

At any rate, the move out of New York is complete. And, notwithstanding a few more occasional moments of in-transition disorientation, I expect my southern roots will soon reassert themselves (particularly after several more visits to Chick-Fil-A, Cracker Barrel, and the like.)

New York, New York, the center of the world, the city that never sleeps. If you can make it here, you can make it anywhere. And if you can't...well, then, I guess you pack up a U-Haul and move on down the road. (Or is it "Then we take Berlin"?) At any rate, after a seven-year stint here in the Harlem-Morningside environs, Berk and I are leaving Manhattan on Wednesday for (hopefully) greener pastures. My next real destination is still undetermined, pending the vagaries of the job search, but for now I'll be returning to the nest to continue writing the dissertation and otherwise scrounge for remunerative employ. We'll see how it goes from there.

As for NYC, on one hand, I'm really going to miss this town. The sheer energy of Gotham always puts a spring in my step, and I really enjoy that distinct New York sensation of living in the center of the hive, ever-so-slightly in the future. On the other hand, I'd be lying if I didn't concede that this city tends to aggravate my natural Irish melancholy, particularly once you factor in the usual grad school isolation, the happenstance that many of my better friends left some time ago, and the sad fact that, romantically speaking, I got crushed here...twice. But, no hard feelings, New York. Sure, there are lingering ghosts in this city, and if I never live as alone again as I have the past two years, it'll be soon enough. But, I still love Manhattan, and I always will, and I would definitely look forward to doing another stint here at some point, if it turns out to be in the cards.

In any case, the future -- however hazy at the moment -- beckons. So, I'd expect it to be quiet here over the next few days as my brother and I lug my accumulated belongings down the Eastern Seaboard. Until then, hope everyone had a relaxing and appropriately reflective Memorial Day, and I'll be in touch on the other end. And, if you're an NYC reader and I didn't see ya before I left, I expect I'll be back for visits, more often than not. (I mean, this is New York.) Until then, be safe, y'all.

"If your catch needs work, both Ms. Guerette and Mr. Butt suggested practicing putting your blades in and out of the water while sitting in the catch position at full compression (legs bent, chest nearly touching thighs, arms extended). Ms. Guerette recommended doing this drill in shallow water, since there’s a chance you could fall into the drink." By way of several ex-rower friends: In the NYT, Charley Butt (my former HVL coach) and one of his current proteges, Olympian Michelle Guerette, offer pointers on how to improve your stroke, and sum up how I spent a good bit of time in college. (See also the accompanying slideshow and video.)

Welcome from the land of boxes, and, if you live in Kentucky or Oregon, please consider voting for Barack Obama today. I expect updates will be sparser than usual this week on account of my imminent move, but, to catch up on recent electoral goings-on: Since the last super update, Sen. Obama has picked up the endorsement of Sen. Robert Byrd, Rep. Madeleine Bordallo (GU), DNC members Greg Pecoraro (MD), Larry Gates (KS), Blake Johnson (AK), Dwight Pelz (WA), and Cindy Spanyers (AK), and 3 UADs (2 in California, 1 in Kansas). (In the meantime, Sen. Clinton has picked up 3 Cali UADs.)

So, that's Clinton +3, Obama + 10 and Warren Buffett. The upshot being, however much tiptoeing is going on at the moment, Sen. Obama should wrap this thing up for good tonight when he takes 50% +1 of the pledged delegates. And there will be much rejoicing.

So, I noticed last night that my old GitM coxing columns at Rowersworld, written a decade ago, had at some point disappeared into the midnight realm of the 404, and that my writings page was thus featuring tons of dead links. But, with the aid of the trusty Wayback Machine, I was able to recreate them again here, where they can reside until this entire site falls into its inevitable disrepair. I'm not sure very many of my regular readers are of the rowing persuasion (anymore). Still, in case y'all are interested, the articles are back up.

Also, while searching for the lost articles, I found this essay on how to throw your coxswain correctly, which references the pic above. Just to clarify, I have "a blissful smile" on my face mostly because we won, yes, but also because I'm fully aware it's early May in Massachusetts, and the waters of Lake Quinsigamond won't immediately close down my bodily systems. Getting tossed at Dartmouth in early April is considerably less blissful.

Another personal plug: As part of the online rollout for a new edition of Walter LaFeber's The American Century, I recently composed four brief classroom essays on various 20th century events, as evaluated from a 21st century (re: ruthlessly presentist) perspective. In case anyone's interested, they've now gone live: The Versailles Conference | The Military Industrial Complex Speech | The Tet Offensive | A Second American Century? Now, that's edutainment.

So I guess I'm probably way behind on this one, but anyway: My sis informed me at dinner last night that not only has Portishead been working on their third album (and first in ten years), but it's in the can, it's called Third, and it officially comes out in only two weeks. The video for the dub number "Machine Gun" (the first single), is just below. Even notwithstanding the "Blue Monday"-ish rat-a-tat that drives the track, I'm loving that subterranean bass lurking under the surface. (Hearing it reminded me of the beginning of this Chemical Brothers video, which I always found more nightmarish than I think they meant it to be.) And then it gets all Kraftwerky right around 2:40, which is a direction that generally sits well with me.

I know Dummy was everybody and their brother's favorite trip-hop album back in the day, and it kinda lost some cool cachet just by becoming so gimongously popular. (Normally, I wouldn't hold that against an album, but, Dummy was kinda everywhere there for awhile. Sorta like Air or The Crystal Method a few years later.) Still, along with R.E.M.'s Monster, the Tribe's Beat, Rhymes, Life, Ill Communication, the now-insufferable, then-inescapable Pulp Fiction soundtrack, and a few others, Dummy was the score of my college years. Both melancholy and beat-intensive, it worked in the background for almost any occasion, and a lot of my fonder memories from school days are keyed to that Bristol sound.

At any rate, it seems the rest of the new tracks are also floating around Youtube: Silence | Hunter | Nylon Smile | The Rip |Plastic | We Carry On | Deep Water | Machine Gun | Small (check out that Syd Barrett bridge) | Magic Doors | Threads. At this early stage, my current favorite (other than the single) is "The Rip," mainly for that catchy acoustic-to-electronic fade right around the two-minute mark.

You may have noticed it's been quieter than usual around here over the past week. This is partly because I've come around to the opinion that blogging every minor twist in the Obama-Clinton primary saga has become redundant. We all know Sen. Obama is our nominee, and many of us have known it since Wisconsin back in February. (The most recent evidence of this assertion: Obama picked up a +2 delegate swing in Miss. on Thursday.) So, my inclination to cover this extended garbagetime as closely as I would an actually tight contest has grown more attentuated over the past few weeks. This isn't to say I won't be covering the primary anymore, just that I doubt I'll be spending as much time on it.

More to the point, it's also been quiet around here because I've been busier than usual in meatspace this week. To wit, I've been stripping down my apartment, throwing out all the useless junk, as per the spring cleaning norm, but also putting all but really necessary items in boxes, to prepare for my imminent departure from the Columbia environs in two months. I'm still writing at the moment, and don't plan to defend until the fall term. Still, it's soon time to leave this place, in preparation for either a return to writerly-type ventures in DC or an academic job search, which I plan to embark on after knowing the electoral lay of the land in November. (Or perhaps I'll just spend a few years walking the earth like Tom Joad, 'cause you never know.)

Either way, the bills don't pay themselves, so my non-dissertating, non-blogging time is now mostly spent looking for remunerative employ -- if not a full-time gig then at least enough freelance projects to swing the summer months. We'll see how that goes. Early feelers to Team Obama in Chicago came up blank, unfortunately (they seem more than fine in the speechwriting department anyway), and applications to some higher-profile political blog-jobs didn't even merit a rejection letter. (Which reminds me, I have a rant about the current state of the paid political blogosphere on broil at the moment -- short version: it's effectively become as insular and echo-chambery as the Weblog Jr. High/"blogger cabal" of the early days -- but I'll save it for another post so it doesn't come across totally as pique.) But, I'm working on other leads too, so hopefully something will shake out. (Of course, if y'all hear of anything, do let me know -- the resume is over here.) In any event, if you're wondering why it's quieter than usual here for now, that's why.

A personal plug: Also out in stores this week, my fourth collaboration with Democratic pundit Bill Press (1, 2, 3): Trainwreck: The End of the Conservative Revolution (and not a moment too soon). If you couldn't guess from the title, it basically argues that, just as the New Deal era lasted from 1932-1968, the Age of Conservatism that began in '64 with Goldwater, hit its stride in the 70's and 80's, and gave us the likes of Reagan, Gingrich, and, of course, Dubya, has now hit the proverbial, inevitable, historical brick wall. So let's survey the wreckage: On one hand, from Katrina to Abramoff and Ed Meese to Alberto Gonzales, right-wing attempts at governance over the past thirty years have usually degenerated into dismal experiments in cronyism and/or incompetence. On the other, conservatism has strayed so far from its ideological roots in the Reagan and particularly Dubya eras that the likes of Robert Taft, Russell Kirk, and William F. Buckley would never even recognize it. (Case in point, the Ron Paul candidacy, wherein a traditional Taft conservative ended up being treated by his esteemed Republican contemporaries in every debate as either a fringe joke or a terrorist-sympathizing dupe.) Either way, the right-wing ascendancy is over, and it's our time again now (and, though it's not reflected in this tome, I think y'all know who I'd prefer to be carrying our progressive standard into battle in 2009 and beyond...)

"Pity the would-be Romeo who earnestly confesses middlebrow tastes: sometimes, it’s the Howard Roark problem as much as the Pushkin one. 'I did have to break up with one guy because he was very keen on Ayn Rand,' said Laura Miller, a book critic for Salon. 'He was sweet and incredibly decent despite all the grandiosely heartless "philosophy" he espoused, but it wasn’t even the ideology that did it. I just thought Rand was a hilariously bad writer, and past a certain point I couldn’t hide my amusement.'" In the NYT, Rachel Donadio looks at relationships undone by differing book tastes (and, along the way, quotes a college friend of mine, Christian Lorentzen.)

Funnily enough, my last serious relationship, lo, 18 months ago now, didn't end because of book taste, but -- like Laura Miller above -- I always considered the Ayn Rand citation on her Friendster profile an ominous red flag (and, in the clear light of retrospect, I was absolutely correct in this regard.) In the relationship before that, things started out ok, and then, eight or nine months in, we daringly ventured to trade lists of recommended books. At first, all was well: She seemed to dig All the King's Men, and I finally got around to reading Moby Dick (I liked it, but also found most of it the longest...Atlantic piece...ever...) But we got on shakier ground when I didn't cotton at all to her favorite tome, Thomas Wolfe's Look, Homeward Angel. (If you've never read it, here's the short version: I, the protagonist, am more brilliant and tortured than absolutely everybody here in fake-Asheville, NC, and thus noone will ever understand me. After 500 pages of complaining about it, I will leave, and seek my fortune elsewhere.) Meanwhile, she was so embarrassed to be seen with Dan Simmons' Hyperion -- a book I don't love, but thought might make a good intro to decent sci-fi yarns for someone with highbrow sensibilities, what with all the Chaucer and Keats nods therein -- that she'd hide it from people on the train. Whether all this brought about or hastened the end, I know not...but it surely didn't help. The point being, be wary, young lovers: The book collection can be a minefield, as the Donadio essay attests.

In the past week, two friends and readers have informed me that GitM is acting somewhat squirrelly in the latest version of Firefox for Mac. Now, I'm a PC guy (by usage and by temperament), so I can't troubleshoot the problem on my computers here. But, is anyone else out there having issues recently? My guess it probably has something to do with embedded videos, since that's the only "new" thing around here lately, and most likely I'm betting the problem is either this St. Patrick's Day post from last week or the Tracey Morgan SNL one right before it. Does anyone know if Firefox (on a Mac) hiccups with certain types of embedded videos, or am I barking up the wrong tree? Any help is greatly appreciated.

Update: Raza at High Industrial informed me that the offending party was likely the Tracy Morgan post. I've now removed the embedded video...Mac Firefoxers, is everything back to normal?

It's that time of year again: The madness has come upon us. Between the primary and real life issues (namely, working on the dissertation and looking for writerly employ for this summer and beyond), I haven't been paying near enough attention this season. But, that's usually when my bracket does best...

And now for something completely different: a Friday night trip on the wayback machine. A few weeks ago, I showed up at a winter gathering wearing the snazzy official Tom Baker scarf my mother made me for Christmas. And, while a few folks correctly identified it (and were suitably impressed --Thanks, mom!), absolutely no one had any clue what I was talking about when I aped this classic moment with the wires from The Genesis of the Daleks ("But do I have the right?"), when the Doctor contemplates his own version of the baby-Hitler conundrum: Is it moral to destroy the genocidal Daleks before they've ever been created? Well, admittedly old-school Who is a pretty niche interest here in the States...it's not exactly "I drink your milkshake!" Still, since everything is on Youtube these days, sure enough, I found this fun fan-made trailer for Genesis online, and thought I'd share it. If you ever watched Tom Baker Who, I'm guessing you'll probably dig it. If not, it'll just seem realllly cheesy (although perhaps not as cheesy at first glance as another Brit sci-fi classic (and the Farscape of its day), Blakes' 7. Blakes' credit sequence may not hold up at all in 2008, but the dour finale certainly does.)

By the way, there are plenty more classic Who trailers where that came from, including this one, featuring scenes from every episode. Collectively, they bring back fond memories of staying up into the wee hours as a kid on Saturday nights to catch Who on SCETV (and, roughly half the time, waking up in the middle of Jack Horkheimer, Star Hustler wondering where the hell I was.)

"Despite the attention blogs can get, the poll said 56 percent of Americans say they never read blogs that discuss politics. Another 23 percent read them several times a year, the survey showed. While blogs are largely considered the realm of young people who are most Internet-savvy, only 19 percent of people ages 18 to 31, and 17 percent of those ages 32 to 43, regularly read a political blog, the poll said." A new Harris Interactive poll finds that most people don't read political blogs. Believe me, I've noticed. :s

Happy Valentines' Day, everyone. As per previous years (2005, 2006, 2007), I've gone ahead and thrown up some songs for the day (for the first time via the magic of Youtube.) The obligatory once-a-year update from behind-the-curtain: Sadly, no romantic life to speak of around here, uh, whatsoever. But, that's fine. Particularly given that my last serious break-up metastasized into Something Awful, and I spent basically all of 2007 with a virulent case of the broken-hearted blues, I'm actually feeling pretty happy about being single right now. Even as little as two months ago, I might've gotten defensive about it, and, to paraphrase our dear Senator from New York, grumbled that "false hope" is not a luxury I can afford to indulge in at the moment. But, these days, all the old wounds feel cauterized, and I'm actually just content to live as I am, I am Legend-style, with Berk, new movies, the most exciting election in a generation, and goodly amounts of dissertoral work taking up my plate. There are much worse ways to spend your days. Anyway, to the music:

If Kraftwerk's "Computerlove" didn't tip you off two years ago, there's a certain kind of cheesy, toe-tapping, heart-on-your-sleeve love song to which I'm highly susceptible. Yep, I'll admit it, occasionally I can be a huge softy. I saw Titanic five times...in the theater. I'll go hit the dance floor when somebody plays Madonna. I thought "Cry Me a River" was an inordinately good pop song. And I'll admit to digging such obviously embarrassing groaners as "Always," "Truly Madly Deeply," and "Your Body is a Wonderland." (Hey, admit it: Sometimes, only sometimes, you must be as embarrassing as me.) Still, I figured, if you're really going to commit to outing your cheesy streak this Valentine's Day, you might as well go straight to the source. Sigh...so, here it is. All I'll say is, God help me, I can't not smile and shimmy a little when I hear this tune.

From its fragile opening to its shimmering close, "If You Wear that Velvet Dress" may just be U2's sultriest song. (I mentioned this the other day, but I'd have loved to hear this one through the IMAX system during U2 3D.) As in Achtung Baby's jauntier "So Cruel" (today's U2 runner-up), all is not right with Bono and his ladyfriend here -- The end is obviously near, but neither party wants to talk about it. ("It's ok, the struggle for things not to say. I never listened to you anyway.") In fact, the two have fallen into a self-destructive pattern that's only making things worse. ("We've been here before, last time you scratched at my door.") But, when the moon is in the sky, and she's wearing that velvet dress, the clock stops, and nothing else matters. (This isn't the official video -- I'm not sure if there even is one -- but it gets the point across: Whatever else is going on, something about that certain someone under a certain light will always take your breath away.)

I ran a Leonard Cohen ballad ("I'm Your Man") last year, and Tom Waits is of the same gravelly, take-no-prisoners persuasion. But while the older Cohen sings with grim resignation, and often sounds like he's got a handle on his heartbreak (even when he clearly doesn't -- see "In My Secret Life") Waits is flailing about in the center of the maelstrom. You'll either see it or you won't, I guess, but I find this performance of "Make it Rain" from Letterman a few years ago almost frightening in its intensity. It's like Waits crawled out from the black, primordial, whiskey-soaked depths of the male Id to bellow away his rage and hurt. (He can sometimes ruminate on the happy times too, of course, such as in this lovely waltz (and a close runner-up for this post), "All the World is Green.") One wretched soul's undiluted howl of pain, anchored and drowning in a bluesy murk, "Make it Rain" is a song to beware of in concentrated doses. (But, as Bob Dylan once said of another classic, play it f**king loud.)

Looking at the ledger of my 33 years thus far on Earth, I'd say I've been in love four times and had three all-consuming (unrequited) crushes, none of which I will delve into here. Nevertheless, for those seven women -- and, even though none of you are in my life anymore, y'all know who you are -- this one's for you.

As a bonus track, I'm recycling this one from 2005, and why not? Even notwithstanding all the imagery from this jaw-droppingly beautiful Chris Cunningham video that I've pilfered for GitM over the years, it's really the best Valentine's Day message one can hope for. So, happy V-Day, y'all. Have a safe and happy one.

Hello, all. So...can you guess who I'm supporting in Tuesday's NH primary?

In any case, now seems as good a time as any to plug some GitM spinoffs I've recently put together, if anyone is interested. First up, if you usually come here just for the movie reviews, I've created GitM Reviews as a separate review site (although -- don't worry -- they'll always be posted here first.) Second, if your interest was piqued by any of the entries on civic progressivism of late, I've also created Small-R Republic as a central clearinghouse for that information. (Again, everything will be either posted here first or linked to as written.)

Both of these are projects I'm only starting to develop online, but they're enough off the ground that they can bear page views and/or advice from the regulars. (Also, while I've refrained from putting advertising here and plan to continue to, I may decide to put up ads on GitMreviews...so if anyone has had a particularly good or terrible experience with an ad provider, please let me know.)

(Obama silhouette pic via a friend/colleague at Peasants Under Glass, where we talked about some of the following in the comments.)

Something is happening here, but you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones? Let's go back a few days to Friday, just after Iowa, at the 100 Club Dinner in Milford, NH: "What you need to understand about the dinner and the venue is this: it was supposed to be a Clinton room." The Clinton advance people had secured the best tables at the front, so all the formidable Granite State luminaries who've backed Hillary could show their strength, and show the Iowa upstart how things work in "independent" New Hampshire. Meanwhile, the Obama voters had been shunted to the back of the room, far away from the podium, the cameras, and the action. All well and good...except it didn't work out that way. The legions of Obama voters surged to the front just before his speech and, by most accounts, blew the Clinton operation out of the room. "'I'm really worried about him,' said [Beverly] Hollingworth, a member of the state's Executive Council and a former state senator, as she headed for the door. 'Other people have been working their whole life for change, and have made good progress. This is just rhetoric.'" And you know something is happening here, but you don't know what it is. Do you, Mrs. Hollingworth?

Fast forward to this morning, where George Stephanopoulos held his usual This Week roundtable at the site of last night's Manchester debate: Sam Donaldson, Cokie Roberts, George Will, and Donna Brazile. For his part, Will seems to be among the "national greatness," "Morning in America" civic conservatives -- such as Peggy Noonan and particularly Andrew Sullivan -- who've responded to Obama's candidacy, and see elements of their beloved Reagan in his crossover appeal. (No doubt anti-Hillary schadenfreude is playing a considerable part too.) Brazile, who worked the comment desks at CNN on Iowa night, had already said her piece last Thursday, and didn't add much this Sunday morning.

But those venerable dinosaurs of the Beltway punditariat, Cokie Roberts and Sam Donaldson, were virtually beside themselves that the Insider candidate seemed to be going down in flames, and soon proved themselves absurdly in the tank for Clinton. Cokie sneered at the constancy of Obama's youth appeal: "Young people, as much as we'd like to see them active in politics, are notorious for not showing up when you need them." She then went on to parrot Clinton's most recent talking points. (Consider "It's a lot of talk, when the reality is, change will happen," or "She embodies change just by being the first woman who might be elected president.")

Donaldson, meanwhile, got bogged down in a wish-fulfillment metaphor about the old champ wearing down the young hotshot (i.e. The Hustler, with Obama as Fast Eddie and Clinton as Minnesota Fats) and huffed and puffed with aggrieved authority, "I agree with Bill Richardson, experience is not a leper!...She's the only one who brought up the economy, did you notice? Anyone could've said look, we may go into a recession here, there's hard times. Only Senator Clinton -- with her experience, if you will -- managed to bring it up!" (You heard it here first, folks. Obama is too inexperienced to have considered the possibility of a recession.) "We're always looking for the non-candidate, the non-politician, and we'd think that'd be great, Donaldson intoned. "But, George, when you have a toothache, most of the people here go to the dentist that's drilled teeth for a long time, I think that's where the country could turn out." (Note here that it's Edwards, not Obama, running the standard outsider-against-the-Washington-ramparts campaign that Donaldson is decrying.)

Now, on one hand, who cares what Sam Donaldson and Cokie Roberts think? Not only are they so completely invested in the Beltway power structure that it's in their very marrow, but they've been living the sheltered life of the television Green Room for decades now. (So, it seems, has ABC's Charlie Gibson, who showed last night during the Manchester debate that he thinks a two-academic family makes $200,000 a year. Uh, Charlie, try $3,000 a class.) As I know from considerable personal experience, the higher echelons in Washington invariably turn up their noses at candidates with outside-the-Beltway appeal, and tend to view them as interlopers worthy of ridicule (or, if they catch a spark, vitriol. At its most extreme, this is how you get Senator Clinton angrily exclaiming in 2000 that killing Ralph Nader "might not be a bad idea.") In short, Sam and Cokie, like countless other members of the Washington media machine, see themselves as bastions of the Beltway order, keepers of the flame, and they don't like any provincial outsiders upsetting the established status quo. All the more reason why Obama is causing them great consternation: "You've been with the professors and they all like your looks. With great lawyers, you have discussed lepers and crooks. You've been through all of F. Scott's Fitzgerald's books. You're very well-read, it's well known. But, something is happening here, and you don't know what it is..."

On the other hand, if we peel away their affronted Beltway dismay about Obama's upstart candidacy, Sam, Cokie, and Mrs. Holllingworth's views speak to arguably the biggest open question about the Illinois Senator's broad-based appeal, and the one demographic factor that most threatens his winning New Hampshire, and the nomination: the generation gap. Pulling up the Iowa numbers again: "Among all caucus-goers under age 45, a smashing 50 percent supported Obama, compared with just 17 percent for Edwards and 16 percent for Clinton. Among those under 30, Obama went even higher, to 57 percent. Among seniors, by contrast -- nearly a quarter of participants -- it was Clinton 45 percent, Edwards 22, Obama 18." Obama pulled young voters out in droves in Iowa, and I think he shows every indication that he can do it again in New Hampshire and beyond. Still, as Cokie snarkily reminded us, older voters are consistent voters. And, allowing that individuals mostly defy easy groupings and follow the dictates of their conscience, the Boomers as a generation are clearly not sold on Obama just yet. So, what's going on here?

Part of it, I think, was explained by Andrew Sullivan a few months ago in the Atlantic Monthly: "Obama’s candidacy in this sense is a potentially transformational one. Unlike any of the other candidates, he could take America -- finally -- past the debilitating, self-perpetuating family quarrel of the Baby Boom generation that has long engulfed all of us...If you are an American who yearns to finally get beyond the symbolic battles of the Boomer generation and face today’s actual problems, Obama may be your man." Senator Obama has since furthered this line of argument himself, telling Newsweek's Joe Klein that he aims to move past "the dorm fights of the '60s." To younger voters, the culture wars that raged from the sixties to the nineties just don't resonate. They seem like ancient history. To older voters, who lived through the experience and witnessed time and time again how low today's GOP will sink in their pursuit of power, this past isn't dead. It isn't even past.

This is why, Sullivan continued in the Monthly, Clinton's methodical (some might say calculating) persona and incrementalist approach doesn't seem to rankle older voters nearly as much as it does those under 45. "[S]he has internalized what most Democrats of her generation have internalized: They suspect that the majority is not with them, and so some quotient of discretion, fear, or plain deception is required if they are to advance their objectives. And so the less-adept ones seem deceptive, and the more-practiced ones, like Clinton, exhibit the plastic-ness and inauthenticity that still plague her candidacy. She’s hiding her true feelings. We know it, she knows we know it, and there is no way out of it." To many older liberals and progressives, who've experienced one dismal setback after another since the heydays of the New Frontier and Great Society, the Clintonian brand of cautious pragmatism often seems the only viable approach to moving the country forward. Put simply, you get burned enough times, you stop using the stove. This time, irony isn't the shackles of youth, but of their parents.

The sheer fact of Clinton and Obama's presidential candidacies, I think, also plays a part in the wide generation gap. The great liberal and progressive victory of the Boomers, one that merits them the moniker "greatest generation" just as readily as fighting WWII does their parents, is the sweeping and (for the most part) successful cultural transformation of race and gender in American life. This is not to say that racism and sexism don't continue to fester in America, both individually and institutionally -- Of course they do, and they're all the harder to root out for having gone underground. But, thanks to the civil rights revolutions of the 1960s and 1970s, younger people tend to view race, gender, and other issues of identity as much more fluid concepts than most Boomers do. While many older voters still possess vividly etched memories of separate drinking fountains, grotesque sexism in the workplace, and fire hoses trained on children, Generations X, Y, and Z grew up sharing a multiracial consumer culture of MTV, The Cosby Show, hip-hop, Tiger Woods, Eminem, etc. Similarly, I think it's safe to say that people under 50 are much more likely to have had a female boss at one point or another. (Counting 'em up, I've worked under more women than men, and I doubt I'm in a slim minority on that point.)

Put simply, and while being careful not to overstate the case, categories like race and sex just don't seem as defining to the youth of today. Boomers fashioned this new world through blood, sweat, tears, and sacrifice, but -- like Moses at the Promised Land -- they can't enter it as readily as their children and grandchildren. This is part of the reason, I think, why, anecdotally speaking, older columnists seemed so much more taken aback by Obama's victory in lily-white Iowa. This also partly explains why Clinton seems to enjoy the strong support of older women. They remember a considerably lower and less permeable glass ceiling -- and the considerable struggle it required to break it -- while many younger women seem to more readily presume (as I do) that sex isn't really a barrier to the presidency anymore.

Now, the response to an older Clinton voter to all of these arguments thus far might be something along the lines of "Just you wait...We know better than you, sonny. Obama may seem like a rock star, but we can see there's no substance to him." But, it doesn't do any dishonor to older voters to suggest in return that maybe this is the moment to forsake a lifetime of dashed hopes and bet on the possibility that the time for a new, expanded progressive coalition has finally come. This is not an easy thing to do. As accomplished and dedicated a reformer as Jane Addams, part of a progressive generation for which I have great empathy, couldn't bring herself to vote for Franklin Roosevelt in 1932, and she was not alone.

Still, there's something strikingly dismaying about watching Clinton and other members of her generation dismiss Obama's message as merely "false hope" (a particularly vicious phrasing) and empty rhetoric. This is the same generation who recoiled from the tested, experienced establishment candidate in 1960, despite his considerable national security credentials, and flocked to the young, hopeful standard of Camelot. This is the same generation who, buoyed by the words of Dr. King, swelled the ranks of the civil rights movement, and who -- disgusted by the continuance of a badly thought-out war overseas -- was inspired by the moving oratory and surprising crossover appeal of Robert Kennedy.

Those leaders were all tragically taken from us, of course, two of them forty years ago this spring and summer. It's maddening to think of how the past four decades might've played out had we the opportunity of their continuing leadership and inspiration. And it's been a long time, far too long, since we've seen anyone on the left who can be mentioned in the same breath as those fallen leaders without hyperbole. But, look at those Iowa numbers again. Maybe, just maybe, that wheel has finally come full circle. Maybe, Senator Barack Hussein Obama is the real deal. Maybe he's the candidate who can transcend the sad political paradigm we've been operating under since 1980 and bring about that long overdue progressive realignment. We've only seen one caucus, of course, but the game moves fast in 2008, and all the indicators seem to suggest he's got "it." If you're not going to stake a chance on him now, what, then, are you waiting for?

I started this entry with a Bob Dylan song. I'll end with another, one I listened to on Friday for the 1,000th time and "heard" like it's the first time. (It sounds completely different when unburdened for a few moments by the ironic punchline of the years after 1968.) If it seems like GitM has become all-Obama, all-the-time since last Thursday, well, there's a good reason for it. Right now, I truly believe we're standing at a crossroads moment, one that could all too easily become evanescent, another missed opportunity in a political lifetime that doesn't offer many of them. But if, on Tuesday, New Hampshire nurtures the spark set in Iowa last week, and Nevada and South Carolina kindle the blaze, we could be looking at a full-fledged progressive wildfire across the nation come SuperduperTuesday. So, to the older voters -- and to any voters -- who, for whatever reason, may be harboring doubts about Barack Obama, give him another look. We're at the first hinge of 2008, and what we do in the next few days and weeks will echo profoundly throughout the next several years of our governance. The old road is rapidly agin', y'all. So please get out of the new one if you can't lend your hand, for the times, they could be a-changin'.

An Early Round Knockout...

...or a new Democratic Frontrunner?

Barring a split decision of some kind, we should have our first real sense of how Election 2008 will all shake out by late this evening. Obviously, it seems somewhat bizarre to choose our two presidential candidates -- a full eleven months before Election Day -- solely by who can best navigate the byzantine complexities of the Iowa caucus system. But the cycle being as accelerated as it is, and with money, name recognition, and the post-Iowa press bounce playing the roles that they do, it's hard to see any other Democratic candidate gaining enough traction between now and Super Duper Tuesday (February 5) to stop Senator Clinton should she win tonight. And -- given her high negatives -- it's almost as hard to envision how Clinton might be able to come back should she definitively lose Iowa and New Hampshire to Obama or Edwards. So, with that mind, it's seems like the last, best time to write up an primary endorsement. Now, as long-time readers might remember, I threw myself behind Bill Bradley in 2000 and tepidly endorsed Howard Dean in 2004, so the track record around here isn't too good. But, hope springs eternal, so regarding 2008...

THE REST OF THE FIELD:

Even if it is a bit unfair, the fact that no other candidate besides the top three is breaking the 15% viability threshold in the polls helps facilitate clumping them together like this. Still, in a perfect world, CHRIS DODD in particular would merit a closer look from voters. An experienced Senate progressive who's stressed the importance of universal service, Dodd would likely make a fine president. But, for whatever reason, Dodd never established the media presence to be a true contender in 2008, and he goes down as the top of the second tier.

Senator JOE BIDEN has run a much better campaign than I ever expected, particularly given his dismal performance during the Alito hearings and his "clean and articulate" flub out of the gate. Indeed, Biden has shown a nuanced understanding of global issues and an impressive command over the foreign policy domain, and he has distinguished himself in debates with wit and (surprisingly enough) brevity. If he is inclined to take the job, I expect he'd make a fine Secretary of State in the next Democratic administration (although he may face some competition from the likes of Richard Holbrooke, particularly if Clinton wins the nomination.)

His considerable record notwithstanding, BILL RICHARDSON has never made a positive impression on me this election cycle. He has scowled his way through debates (when he wasn't capitulating to Clinton), he's shown himself to be a practitioner of the Dubya Fratboy school of leadership (nicknames, backslapping, etc.), and I've yet to hear anything from him that seems even remotely inspiring. In a way, he's been the Fred Thompson of the Democratic side -- the theoretical Dark Horse candidate who's been a total non-starter. At any rate, the fact that the New Mexico Governor can't even break the top three in nearby Nevada suggests his presidential bid isn't long for this world. (For what it's worth, he's apparently asked his supporters to back Obama in the caucuses.)

As in the 2004 cycle, DENNIS KUCINICH has been a breath of fresh air on stage -- he's the one (semi-viable) candidate who unabashedly refuses to join his colleagues in the protective camouflage of GOP-lite centrism. (This is no small feat given how reflexive this knee-jerk "triangulating" tendency has become among Dems in recent years.) Still, even he recognizes that Iowa will not be kind to him, and has also asked his supporters to vote Obama. So, (MIKE GRAVEL notwithstanding, I suppose, although, despite his impressive record of service, he never seemed much more than a novelty act), that leaves the Big Three:

HILLARY CLINTON:

Senator Clinton is a smart, tough, and formidable leader, and although the presidential merits of her experience as First Lady has lately been called more into question, no one can deny that she's a battle-tested veteran of the partisan wars of the 1990s, or that she's the candidate most accustomed to the vicissitudes of the GOP attack machine. She'd make a very good president, particularly compared to George W. Bush and any Republican running.

Still, I've already described my major concerns about Clinton's candidacy here, here, and particularly here, so if you'll permit me to quote from that last entry, my issues are thus: "[1] She's thoroughly lousy on campaign finance reform, to my mind the issue that bears on virtually all others; [2] she apparently didn't have the wherewithal or leadership instincts to realize the Iraq war was a terrible idea in 2003 (it didn't take all that much to figure it out, particularly when you figure how much more information Clinton had access to than we did); [3] her view of centrism is apparently to act like Joe Lieberman every so often; and [4] most of the nation has already decided for various reasons that they don't like her." Once you factor in her unseemly corporate backers, her woeful view of human rights versus national security, her recent campaign missteps and tribulations, and the dynasty issue to that list, I find it hard to get very enthused about Senator Clinton's candidacy.

If 2004 taught us anything, it's that the electability issue is a bit of a canard. We picked John Kerry because we believed he was more "electable" than Howard Dean, and that may have even been true. But can anyone name a single state that Kerry won in the general election that Dean wouldn't also have carried? All that being said, given her very strong negatives, I do think Senator Clinton is not only the least "electable" of the Big Three, but the only candidate -- in either party -- who could manage to reunite the fractured GOP this cycle. It may not be her fault, but she will invariably bring out the wingnuts in force to vote against her. I'd even go so far as to say that the GOP is banking on Hillary Clinton as the Democratic nominee. It's the best possible outcome for them, and they know it.

And given that the leadership Clinton offers is the same unambitious and uninspiring blend of triangulated-to-death DLC centrism practiced by her husband, why even take the chance? This is not to say Bill Clinton was a bad president, not at all. Given the times he was working in and the low-down, unprincipled miscreants he was often forced to contend with, you could even say he accomplished amazing things, once he got his sea legs. Still, we are now at a moment when the Republican party is in rout. The conservative movement which began in 1964, coalesced during the 70's and 80's, and gave us the likes of Reagan, Gingrich, and Bush has now -- at long last -- been thoroughly discredited. Our nation has paid a heavy price for this realization, in both blood and treasure. Now more than ever, it is time for Democrats to shake off the protective camouflage and step into the sunlight. Put simply, it is time for change.

JOHN EDWARDS:

John Edwards is a candidate I've always thought highly of and, indeed, I voted for him in the NY primary in 2004. While he got off to a shaky start this cycle, Edwards -- arguably the candidate with the most to win or lose today -- has improved considerably over the past few months. In fact, I probably agreed with him more than any other candidate onstage in most of the debates. He was often the only person to suggest that the current system is fundamentally broken, and that stronger lobbying and campaign finance laws are needed to cleanse the taint of money from our political process and to make it responsive again to the needs and aspirations of everyday voters. As I said in the two long posts on progressivism several weeks ago, I agree -- as many progressives did a century ago -- that the unchecked influence of vast sums of money in Washington is arguably the central political problem facing our republic. Countless terrible decisions made by this administration, and by their Democratic counterparts in Congress, flow directly from the sad fact that dollars speak louder than people. And all the 12-point policy proposals in the world on health care, taxes, education, whathaveyou, won't change a thing until this underlying problem is recognized and rectified. To my mind, Edwards should be applauded for ringing the alarm bell loudly and strongly. (Not for nothing has Ralph Nader endorsed him.) If this argument carries Edwards all the way to the presidency, the result would almost assuredly be good for the country.

That being said, if I were caucusing in Iowa today, I would not be voting for John Edwards. Not because of any fault of Edwards -- he's my strong second choice -- but rather because I think there is one other candidate out there who shows more progressive potential. More on him in a moment, but, before I switch topics, here's the rub. As much as I admire Edwards for articulating the problem before us, I don't actually agree all that much with his solution to that problem. Put simply, Edwards is sounding the chord of populism, and populism is not progressivism. Populism speaks in a language of class, of insiders and outsiders, of haves and have-nots. Populism is often characterized by free-floating anger towards an elite "insider" cadre of some sort, and, while it's reductionist to group everyone together like this, populism has worked as well for Tom Watson and Huey Long as it has for Joe McCarthy and Ronald Reagan. It's a blunt instrument that despises elites of any kind and relies on and perpetuates an us-versus-them mentality among Americans. From everything I've seen of him in the debates and otherwise, John Edwards isn't really using the inclusive language of progressive citizenship to make his case. He's wielding the often divisive cudgel of populism. Now, if I have to pick a side, I'm obviously with the people against the oligarchs. And if this is the only way America will wake up and recognize the stench of legalized corruption, so be it. But I still think this nation will embrace civic progressivism along the lines I recently discussed, given the right leadership...

BARACK OBAMA:

If Edwards has been articulating the key progressive problem -- corruption in government -- then Barack Obama embodies the key progressive solution. Like no other candidate we've seen on the Left in nearly a half-century, Obama has the potential to restore Americans' faith in government and bring people back into the political process. Many skeptics among the punditry have derided Obama as a "hopemonger," but, to my mind, his optimistic appeal shouldn't be taken lightly. In a country where less than half of us vote anymore, anything that encourages people who have felt disenfranchised to look anew at or become enthused about our common citizenship is a godsend. In short, Obama -- young, thoughtful, intelligent, charismatic -- seems the only candidate with the potential to spark a true progressive revival. True, Obama isn't quite speaking the language of progressivism yet. But he's been veering closer to it than either Clinton or Edwards (Note, for example, the line quoted in his stump speech at the link above: "Americans all across the country are hungry for -- desperate for -- a new type of politics. Something different. A politics focused not on what divides us but on our common values and our common ideals." This argument that we are one people, all in it together and bound together as citizens by our commonalities, is the very warp and woof of civic progressivism.)

What goes for the nation goes for the globe. As Andrew Sullivan noted in his endorsement of Obama back in November, an Obama presidency single-handedly "rebrands" the United States in the eyes of the world. No other candidate running suggests so immediately and profoundly that we live by the democratic ideals we espouse, that we are a nation of diversity committed to individual flourishing, and that America is a land where anyone and everyone has the opportunity to rise to their full potential.

This holds true for our enemies as much as our friends (many of whom will be glad to see anyone but Dubya in the Oval Office.) As Sullivan put it, "Consider this hypothetical. It’s November 2008. A young Pakistani Muslim is watching television and sees that this man -- Barack Hussein Obama -- is the new face of America. In one simple image, America’s soft power has been ratcheted up not a notch, but a logarithm. A brown-skinned man whose father was an African, who grew up in Indonesia and Hawaii, who attended a majority-Muslim school as a boy, is now the alleged enemy. If you wanted the crudest but most effective weapon against the demonization of America that fuels Islamist ideology, Obama’s face gets close. It proves them wrong about what America is in ways no words can."

Progressive potential and global symbolism aside, Obama has shown himself to possess the requisite talents needed to make an excellent president. As we all know, he was the only major candidate with the judgment to speak out against the Iraq War from the start. In debates, he's proven himself light on his feet and displayed a quick, voracious mind. (As Slate's Michael Kinsley put it, "When I hear him discussing some issue, I hear intelligence and reflection and almost a joy in thinking it through.") During his tenure in the Senate, he's shown a pronounced ability to work with people across the aisle, and counts among his friends and working partners such paleolithic conservatives as Sam Brownback and Tom Coburn. His Dreams from My Father testifies to a life of travel and experience that would serve him well in the Oval Office. And, unlike Senator Clinton, Obama has been a friend to campaign finance and lobbying reform, which remains crucial to any real change happening in the next four-to-eight years.

Now, obviously there are some lacunae surrounding Obama. He is a young man, and relatively new to national politics. He has admittedly been vague at times, and could have done considerably more these past few months, when given the nation's ear, to highlight the issues he finds important. There's a possibility -- maybe even a strong possibility -- that he'll end up a Tommy Carcetti-like president: a well-meaning reformer outmatched and buffeted to and fro by the entrenched forces arrayed against him. After nearly eight years of Dubya, Washington is pretty screwed up these days, and I'm not naive enough to think any one politician can undo all the damage that's been wrought in recent years. Still, given the Democratic field, my money's on Barack Obama. He has the potential to be a very special candidate -- the kind that comes around only once or twice a generation -- and I hope this evening sees the first of many successes for his campaign.

GitM votes Obama.

Happy New Year, everyone. So unlike last year, when I took an extra month on account of my travels in New Zealand, the Best of 2007 Movie list seems ready to go out on schedule, and it's below. (If you've been reading all the reviews around here, I'm betting the top few choices won't be a surprise. Still, organizing the 5-15 section was more tough than usual this year.) At any rate, 2008 should be a big orbit around the sun in any event, what with grad school winding down and it being time -- at last! -- to pick a new president. So a very happy new year to you and yours, and let's hope the movies of the coming year will contain to sustain, amuse, baffle, and delight.

1. I'm Not There: "There was a movie I seen one time, I think I sat through it twice." Admittedly, it was a wonderful confluence of my interests. Nevertheless, Todd Haynes' postmodern celebration of Bob Dylan, brimming over with wit and vitality and as stirring, resonant, and universal as a well-picked G-C-D-Em progression, was far and away my favorite film experience of the year. It seems to have slipped in a lot of critics' end-of-year lists (although Salon's Stephanie Zacharek also put it up top, and the Sun-Times' Jim Emerson has been championing it too), but so be it -- You shouldn't let other people get their kicks for you anyway. A heartfelt, multi-layered, six-sided puzzle about the many faces and voices of Dylan, l found I'm Not There both pleasingly cerebral and emotionally direct, and it's a film I look forward to returning to in the years to come. Everybody knows he's not a folk-singer.

2. No Country for Old Men: It probably won't do wonders for West Texas tourism. Still, the Coens' expertly-crafted No Country works as both a visceral exercise in dread and a sobering philosophical rumination on mortality and the nature of evil. (And in his chilling portrayal of Anton Chigurh, Javier Bardem has crafted a movie villain for the ages.) People sometimes refer to Coen movies as "well-made" as a dig, as if the brothers were just soulless clinically-minded technicians. I couldn't disagree with that assessment more. Still, No Country for Old Men seems so seamless and fully formed, so judicious and economical in its storytelling, that it reminds me of Salieri's line in Amadeus: "Displace one note and there would be diminishment, displace one phrase and the structure would fall." A dark journey that throbs with a jagged pulse, No Country for Old Men is very close to the best film of the year, and -- along with Miller's Crossing, Fargo, and The Big Lebowski -- yet another masterpiece sprung from the Coens' elegant and twisted hive-mind. Bring on Burn After Reading.

3. The Diving Bell and the Butterfly: Through the wonders of cinematic alchemy, Julian Schnabel took the sad real-life account of Vogue editor Jean-Do Bauby's horrific imprisonment within his own body and made it soar. No other film this year put the "locked-in" experience of taking in a movie as inventively in service of its story (although I kinda wish Atonement had tried.) Special kudos to Mathieu Almaric for conveying so much with so little to work with, and to Max von Sydow for his haunting turn as Bauby's invalid father. And, lest someone holds "arthouse foreign film" against it, Diving Bell is both much funnier and more uplifting than anyone might expect of a tale about hospital paralysis. Salut.

[3.] The Lives of Others: The one hold-over from 2006 on the list this year (I was pretty thorough about catching up before posting last January, although I still never did see Inland Empire), The Lives of Others is a timely and compelling parable of art, politics, surveillance, and moral awakening in the final days of the Stasi. In a way, Lives is an East German counterpart to Charlie Wilson's War, a story about how even small political acts of individual conscience can change the world, even (or perhaps especially) in a decaying Orwellian state. With a memorable central performance by Ulrich Mühe and a languid conclusion that ends on exactly the right note, the resoundingly humanist Lives of Others is a Sonata for a Good Man in Bad Times. We could use more of its ilk.

4. Knocked Up: Judd Apatow's sweet, good-natured take on modern love and unwanted pregnancy was probably the most purely satisfying film of the summer. As funny in its pop-culture jawing as it was well-observed in its understanding of relationship politics, Knocked Up also felt -- unlike the well-meaning but overstylized Juno, the film it'll most likely be paired with from now herein -- refreshingly real. As I said in my recent review of Walk Hard, an eventual Apatow backlash seems almost inevitable given how many comedies he has on the 2008 slate. Nevertheless, we'll always have Freaks & Geeks, and we'll always have Knocked Up.

5. The Bourne Ultimatum: The third installment of the Bourne franchise was the best blockbuster of the year, and proved that director Paul Greengrass can churn out excellent, heart-pounding fare even when he's basically repeating himself. Really, given how much of Ultimatum plays exactly like its two predecessors on the page -- the car chase, the Company Men, the Eurotrash assassin, Julia Stiles, exotic locales and cellphone hijinx -- it's hard to fathom how good it turned out to be. But Bourne was riveting through and through...You just couldn't take your eyes off it. I know I've said this several times now, but if Zack Snyder screws up Watchmen (and I'd say the odds are 50-50 at this point), the lost opportunity for a Greengrass version will rankle for years.

6. Zodiac: The best film of the spring. What at first looked to be another stylish David Fincher serial killer flick is instead a moody and haunting police procedural about the search for a seemingly unknowable truth, and the toll it exacts on the men -- cops, journalists, citizens -- who undertake it for years and even decades. Reveling in the daily investigatory minutiae that also comprise much of The Wire and Law and Order, and arguably boasting the best ensemble cast of the year, Zodiac is a troubling and open-ended inquiry that, until perhaps the final few moments, offers little in the way of satisfying closure for its characters or its audience. Whatever Dirty Harry may suggest to the contrary, the Zodiac remains elusive.

7. 28 Weeks Later: Sir, we appear to have lost control of the Green Zone...Shall I send in the air support? Zombie flicks have been a choice staple for political allegory since the early days of Romero, but one of the strengths of Juan Carlos Fresnadillo's merciless 28 Weeks Later -- perhaps the best horror sequel since James Cameron's Aliens -- is that it foregoes the 1:1 sermonizing about failed reconstructions and American hubris whenever it gets in the way of the nightmare scenario at hand. (Besides, if you wanted to see explicit muckraking about current events this year, there were options aplenty, from In the Valley of Elah to No End in Sight, although plenty of this year's politically-minded forays -- Rendition, Lions for Lambs -- looked rather inert from a distance.) There's little time for moralizing in the dark, wretched heart of 28 Weeks Later: In fact, the right thing to do is often suicide, or worse. You pretty much have only one viable option: run like hell.

8. In the Valley of Elah: Paul Haggis' surprisingly unsentimentalized depiction of the hidden costs of war for the homefront, Elah benefits greatly from Tommy Lee Jones' slow burn as a military father who's lost his last son to a horrific murder. In fact, it's hard not to think of Jones' inspired performances here and in No Country of a piece. There was something quintessentially America-in-2007 about Jones this year. In every crease and furrow of this grizzled Texan's visage, we can see the wounds and weariness of recent times, the mask of dignity and good humor beginning to slip in the face of tragic events and colossal stupidity. Jones is masterful in Elah, and while Daniel Day-Lewis seems to be garnering most of the accolades for There Will Be Blood and Philip Seymour Hoffman stunned in three pics this fall (all on the list below), I'd put Jones' work here as the best of the year.

9. There Will Be Blood: Ah, the maddening There Will Be Blood. I just reviewed this one yesterday, so it's doubtful my opinion on it has changed much. But what Anderson's film reminds me of most at the moment (and not only for the Daniel Day-Lewis connection) is Scorsese's Gangs of New York, a movie I reviewed at the end of 2002 and then bumped up a few spots a week later when writing the 2002 list, thinking that its flaws would diminish over time. They haven't -- if anything, they're just as noticeable as ever. So it may well be with TWBB. Even despite its somewhat unseemly pretensions to greatness, the first hour or so of There Will Be Blood, from the Kubrickian opening to the Days in Heaven-ish burning oil rig, is as powerful and memorable as you could ever want in a film. But TWBB loses its way, and the second half is a significantly less interesting enterprise, ultimately culminating in that goofy, illogical bowling alley ending. I'd characterize Blood as a significant step forward for PTA, and there's something to be said for getting even this close to a masterpiece. But he hasn't struck black gold yet.

10. Hot Fuzz: While I personally still prefer Shaun of the Dead, this fish-out-of-water, buddy-cop action spectacle proved the droll British team of Nick Frost, Simon Pegg, and Edgar Wright can't be considered one-hit-wonders (and that they're as savvy about certain pop culture tropes as their American colleagues in the Apatow camp.) And, while I didn't see Elizabeth II: The Golden Age, Hot Fuzz may well include the second-best Cate Blanchett performance of the year.

11. Gone Baby Gone: First-time director Ben Affleck acquits himself well with this chronicle of missing children and seedy n'er-do-wells in working-class Boston, wisely choosing to stick with a town and a leading man he knows like the back of his hand. His brother Casey holds his own, and crime author Dennis Lehane's original source material provides some compelling twists-and-turns throughout. And, as the drug-addled, quick-to-dis Townie mom who's lost her baby, The Wire's Amy Ryan gives arguably the Best Supporting Actress performance of the year (although she'll likely get some run from Blanchett's Jude Quinn.)

12. Michael Clayton: Clooney's impeccable taste in projects continues with this, Tony Gilroy's meditation on corporate malfeasance and lawyerly ethics (or lack thereof.) The bit with the horses still seems a convenient (and corny) happenstance on which to hang such a major plot point, and I found Tilda Swinton to be overly mannered and distracting for much of the film's run. But most else about Michael Clayton, from Sidney Pollack's Master of the Universe to Michael O'Keefe's snide, unctuous #2 to Tom Wilkinson's last scene to Clooney not rebounding as well to events as, say, Danny Ocean, rang true. A small film, in its way, but a worthwhile one.

13. Charlie Wilson's War: Another one I wrote on in the past 24 hours, so I don't have much to add. Perhaps the best thing about Mike Nichols and Aaron Sorkin's adaptation of Crile's book is that it "gets" politics like few recent Washington thrillers I can think of. Philip Seymour Hoffman shows impeccable comic timing as the gruff Gust Avrakotos, and he works very well with Hanks here, who's gone from being overexposed a few years ago back to a guy I wouldn't mind seeing more of, particularly if he continues along the Alec Baldwinish character actor path Wilson sometimes suggests could be his future.

14. The Savages: I actually thought about putting Tamara Jenkins' The Savages higher on this list, and few other movie endings this year hit me in the gut quite like this one. But, there are definite problems here, such as the wheezy Gbenga Akinnagbe subplot, which compel me to keep it here in the mid-teens. Still, this comedy about an ornery lion in winter, and the battling cubs who have to come to his aid, is a worthwhile one, and particularly if you're in the mood for some rather black humor. As Lenny the senescent and slipping paterfamilias, Philip Bosco gives a standout performance, as does Hoffman as the miserable Bertholdt Brecht scholar trapped in deepest, darkest Buffalo.

15. Before the Devil Knows You're Dead: Now, Before the Devil is a movie I did end up seeing twice, on account of Brooklyn friends who were looking to catch it, and the film didn't bring much new to the table on that second viewing. Still, Sidney Lumet and Kelly Masterson's lean family tragedy benefits from several excellent performances -- most notably by Hoffman, Ethan Hawke, Marisa Tomei, and Albert Finney, but also in supporting work by Amy Ryan, Michael Shannon, Brian O'Byrne, and Rosemary Harris -- as well as a memorable Carter Burwell score. (Also, it's just a coincidence that the three Hoffman movies ended up in a row like this -- Still, it's a testament to the man's ability that he seemed unique and fully formed in each. Then again, the only time I can think of that Hoffman was actually bad in a film was Cold Mountain, which was pretty glitched up regardless.)

16. Sunshine: Along with There Will Be Blood, Danny Boyle and Alex Garland's exasperating Sunshine is the other film this year that saw an amazing first hour become undone by breathtakingly poor choices on the back end. Unlike the halting, confused slide of TWBB, though, the moment where Sunshine slips the rails is clear-cut and irrefutable: It's when what had been a heady science fiction tale about a near-impossible mission to the heart of the sun became instead an unwieldy space-slasher flick, i.e. basically an Armageddon variation on Jason X. The wreckage this subplot makes of what had been a superior hard-sci-fi film is more than a little depressing...Still, for that first hour, Sunshine is really something, perhaps the best realistically-portrayed outer space voyage we've seen on-screen in years.

17. The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford: Andrew Dominik's sprawling psychological western about the end of the West and the early days of American celebrity-worship is every bit as ambitious and flawed as PTA's There Will Be Blood. Still, ma