SAINT RONALD GETS THE HEAVE-HO

Unlike the thousands of Americans who will line Constitution Avenue to see the horse-drawn caisson delivering Saint Ronald's coffin to the Capitol Rotunda, where his body will lie in state -- and unlike the media maestros who will sanctify the rites as whispering hosts of a civic religion -- Greg Palast has lost no love, admiration or respect for the 40th president of the United States.

A BBC investigative journalist, Palast writes: "In 1987 I found myself stuck in a crappy little town in Nicaragua named Chaguitillo. The people were kind enough, though hungry, except for one surly young man. His wife had just died of tuberculosis.

"People don't die of TB if they get some antibiotics. But Ronald Reagan, big hearted guy that he was, had put a lock-down embargo on medicine to Nicaragua because he didn't like the government that the people there had elected.

"Ronnie grinned and cracked jokes while the young woman's lungs filled up and she stopped breathing. Reagan flashed that B-movie grin while they buried the mother of three."

Palast, who is a native Californian, wrote the best-selling book, "The Best Democracy Money Can Buy." He invariably takes the powerful to task. As Noam Chomsky has said of him, he "upsets all the right people" -- and for all the right reasons. Although Palast often writes for the mainstream media -- The Guardian and The Observer in London, Harper's magazine, the Baltimore Sun, The New York Times, to name a few -- it, too, comes in for his withering critism.

Palast heaps scorn not only on Reagan but on the Times for embroidering the legend in a "canned obit." He blasts the paper for writing that "Reagan projected, 'faith in small town America' and 'old-time values.'"

"'Values' my ass," he fumes. "It was union busting and a declaration of war on the poor and anyone who couldn't buy designer dresses. It was the New Meanness, bringing starvation back to America so that every millionaire could get another million.

"'Small town' values? From the movie star of the Pacific Palisades, the Malibu mogul? I want to throw up."

Tom Carson feels the same nausea. At Reagan's funeral, Carson writes, "there will no doubt be buckets of false poetry, grievously misrepresenting the man -- yes, even if Peggy Noonan shows up, doing her best to be Walt Whitman to his Abe: 'When Star Wars Last in Gorbachev's Dooryard Bloom'd.'"

In "a sincere spirit of tribute to an enemy," Carson proposes that, as "a noted fantasist ... perhaps best remembered for the eight years he spent believing he ruled an entirely fictional United States ... a delusion shared by most of his compatriots," Reagan "deserves the honor of being the first person ever embalmed at Disneyland."

June 9, 2004 11:36 AM |

Categories:

Me Elsewhere

'WILD SIDE' STILL ROCKS 

Nelson Algren was one of the great American authors of the 20th century, it is no exaggeration to say, and among the most neglected. Consider his underrated classic, "A Walk on the Wild Side." The title -- popularized and co-opted as an idiomatic phrase by Hollywood and Madison Avenue (institutions Algren loathed) -- is familiar to most anyone who speaks English or knows Lou Reed's lyrics. But the novel itself? Hardly.

BUSTER KEATON REVISITED 
Buster Keaton: Tempest in a Flat Hat is not a biography. "This book is merely a fan's notes," Edward McPherson writes in the introduction, although his publisher ignores the disclaimer and calls it a biography on the cover. In fact, the book is a bit of both, a difficult combination to bring off unless you're David Thomson, who set the standard with Rosebud, his penetrating rumination on the life and career of Orson Welles, which was nothing if not a distillation of every obsessive thought he ever had about the myth and the man and all his movies.
LAUREN BACALL, STILL SALTY AT 80 
When Lauren Bacall writes that her singing voice ranges "somewhere between B minus sharp and outer space," she's being candid and funny. It's not every stage star with two Tony Awards for best actress in a musical whose vocal talent offers so little promise. (OK, Harvey Fierstein excepted.) Still less would one admit it.
THE STARS ACCORDING TO BOGDANOVICH 
Peter Bogdanovich's superb collection of movie-star profiles and interviews -- a sequel to Who the Devil Made It, his interviews of top film directors -- begins with an affectionate tale about Orson Welles that reminds us just how intimate the author's connection to Hollywood's greatest has been. But contrary to what we've come to expect from dime-a-dozen celebrities and celebrity interviews not worth two cents, the tale avoids bromidic egotism and journalistic platitudes.
SAMMY'S WHITE DREAMS 
Four decades ago Lenny Bruce sentenced Sammy Davis Jr. to "30 years in Biloxi," stripping him of "his Jewish star" and "his religious statue of Elizabeth Taylor." Now we have two new biographies of Davis that spring him from ridicule, if not from doubts about his legacy, and restore a measure of dignity to a black entertainer whose huge fame and success never overcame his devout wish -- indeed his lifelong effort -- to be white.
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