Podcasting the Venture Bros season 6 episode 3: Faking Miracles

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Podcasting the Venture Bros season 6 episode 3: Faking Miracles #venturebros

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Love the Venture Bros cartoon but afraid of missing the myriad of historical references and layers of meaning behind each episode? Join pop culture and history experts Elana Levin and Steven Attewell (whose secret identity is that he’s an actual historian) for our Podcast examining each episode of Season 6 of this hit Adult Swim show. Tonight’s episode is about Season 6 Episode 3: “Faking…

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Tune in at 10PM Eastern!

A People’s History of the Marvel Universe, Week 3: Making Cap Marvel

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Face front, true
believers!        

Welcome back to A People’s History of the Marvel Universe, where I explore how real-world politics (and weird bits of pop culture) was presented in some of my favorite bits of classic Marvel comics. In this issue, I’ll be discussing how Captain America made the transition from his Timely Comics incarnation to the Marvel era.

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Timely Comics’s
version of Captain America was (to be kind) rather crude, still in that stage
where superheroes as a genre are still emerging from pulp, so there’s a lot of
repetitious scenes where Cap and/or Bucky get tied to chairs because that’s the
only way the author can think of to get to the plot exposition, most of the
villains are pretty generic mobster types, and so on. However, Kirby and Lee
were able to go back and sift through the old material to find the stuff that
worked – Steve Rogers as Captain America, the uniform and the mighty shield,
the Red Skull, Agent 13 – while ditching the stuff that didn’t work (the secret
identity, Bucky to an extent, etc.).

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At the same time,
there were a number of strategies that Marvel used to make the transition work.
First, in the very act of updating Captain America from the 1940s to the 1960s,
Kirby and Lee made Steve Rogers a man out of time, giving a previously rather
thinly-sketched individual a rich source of Marvel-style pathos and
interiority. The Steve Rogers who emerged in the pages of the Avengers, Tales
of Suspense, and Captain America is a veteran haunted by the memory of his
losses during WWII, a rare example in which PTSD is given its place in that
conflict. (Indeed, a lot of stories from this era involve Cap having vivid
flashbacks or hallucinations that make him question his sanity.)

 However, with Kirby
there as the keeper of the sacred flame
to ensure that the original spirit of Captain
America wasn’t lost, Steve Rogers’ status as a man out of time was never an
excuse to position him as a conservative or reactionary
figure
. Rather,
Captain America’s position was that he would embrace these changes and fight
for the same progressive change that he had back in the New Deal:

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And that’s what I
think people often get wrong about Captain America: while he was born into the
“Greatest Generation,” he’s not an old man. Rather, because of his variable
number of decades frozen in the ice, he’s a young man who’s traveled through
time, bringing the passion and idealism of youth into a new era.

Second, Kirby and
Lee kept much of the political edge of the original comics by making a
foundational element of the new Cap comics that Nazism was not dead, but had
continued into the present day as a hostile force that threatened liberal
values, often hidden beneath reactionary causes and movements (hence the
usefulness of HYDRA as a dark mirror through which to question and explore the
national security state in Captain
America: Winter Soldier
). For example, early on in Tales of Suspense, they
posited that Nazi agents were at work in modern Germany:

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To argue that
Nazis were hidden in German society, as if Himmler’s Operation
Werwolf
had
really come to pass, was a pretty bold political statement in a Cold War world
only five years past the construction of the Berlin Wall and in which the
Western German government had yet to publicly grapple with the legacy of the
Holocaust. But Kirby’s political acumen shines in these issues, grounding these
stories in contemporary politics, as with this reference to West German laws
banning the display of Nazi iconography:

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Third, another
thing that Marvel could bring to the table is a fully matured Jack Kirby. As I
mentioned above, the Timely Captain America comics were too close to the pulp
era to really be distinctively superheroic. But by the 1960s, Kirby was Kirby.
And so what the Red Skull’s sleeper agents were out to awaken was not merely a
coup against the Federal Republic of Germany, but a giant Nazi robot:

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The Timely Comics
version of the Red Skull had been a petty saboteur and sometimes assassin, very
much within the wheelhouse of pulp antagonists. The new Red Skull (who’ll be
explored in future installments) was reimagined as a full-on supervillain with
a flair for giant robots, doomsday devices, world conquest, and grandiloquent
speeches complete with cigarette holder. And so Kirby gave the world not just a
giant robot menacing the free world, but a Nazi Voltron:

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This was the
secret alchemy that brought Captain America into the contemporary world of
Mighty Marvel Comics: on the one hand, Jack Kirby’s larger-than-life visuals and
Marvel’s attention to interiority gave Captain America new life, but on the
other, the original political spirit of the Timely Comics was carefully
preserved, so that what made Captain America unique is a superhero is that his
power is essentially weaponized progressive ideology:

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SomethingLikeALawyer, any particular reason the great spring sickness has not led to pro-smallfolk reforms ala the black death?

warsofasoiaf:

Well, not every plague leads to pro-smallfolk reforms. Even Yersinia pestis is no guarantee to pro-peasantry reforms in our own world. Bubonic plague was devastating every time it struck, but the devastation of the outbreak of 541 didn’t lead to the same thing as the Black Death. There’s social factors, the evolution of philosophy, sheer population concerns, and so on.

I can’t tell for certain, but I’m thinking Bloodraven had a hand in it. Bloodraven passed edicts to stop people from leaving their land, but obviously, he lacked the ability to enforce it. He could more easily, however, stop nobles from raising wages to entice peasants to move to their land. Any smallfolk who tried to organize were likely executed as Blackfyre sympathizers (if Haegon ran on a pro-smallfolk platform, that would be an amazing wrinkle, but I’m going out on a limb and saying that won’t be happening).

It’s not all him though, the drought made the land itself less productive, which meant that the smallfolk labor didn’t have the same premium in the years following the Great Spring Sickness as the European peasants did in the Great Spring Sickness, and Dagon Greyjoy’s rebellion distracted the peasantry from wielding any power what with the danger of being abducted and murdered.
Once all that was taken care of, populations stabilized enough that the opportunity had sailed, and pro-smallfolk reforms would have to come from some other source.

Again, however, this is all speculative, and the answer might be something else entirely that we just don’t know. You might want to ask @racefortheironthrone for a second opinion.

Thanks for the question, Anon.

SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King

Well keep in mind, the Black Death didn’t lead to pro-peasant reforms. In fact, it lead to the opposite – the nobility and the monarchy tried to crack down on uppity peasants and restore the status quo ante plaga, and then the peasants rebelled, and were bloodily put down. 

But the thing about even failed rebellions is that they make people nervous and unwilling to press the issue. So while there weren’t any legislative breakthroughs, quietly the nobility and the monarchy let serfdom lapse and tried to woo agricultural labor with more rights and better terms on their tenancy agreements. Likewise, over the long term, the cash that burghers in the towns and cities were  making eventually translated into bribes to get more and more generous charters that gave city-dwellers legal and political personhood. 

So while nothing happened legislatively until Aegon V’s time, the fact that Bloodraven wasn’t able to enforce his edicts meant that a lot of peasants got off the land they were bound to and got to a city or town where they had more personal freedoms, and I’ll bet dollars to donuts that when the drought ended and the nobility needed more labor, there was a lot of quiet and not-so-quiet renegotiation of tenancy agreements. 

I missed asking about this when the Dany V essay came out, but how extraordinary is it that Ser Barristan speaks High Valyrian fluently (or for that matter, that he is passable in Ghiscari)? How common was it in the Middle Ages for knights like Ser Barristan to speak a second language like Latin or a third language?

Well, historical parallels are tripping us up here because in the Middle Ages, you were only considered literate if you knew Latin. Being able to read and write in your native language didn’t count. 

The extent to which the lesser nobility learned Latin is a matter of historical debate. Certainly, we know that it was considered unusual and notable that Henry I could read Latin instead of relying on his clerks (hence why his nickname was Henry Beauclerc, or Henry the Good Scholar), but from King John’s reign (1199-1216) onward, royals were routinely educated in Latin. And as Harvey Graff argues, “the example set by the kings inevitably gave the baronage and gentry a motivation to learn some Latin, both to avoid looking foolish at court…and to have sufficient understanding of the written demands” of their king.

How far down that penetrated is hard to say, because evidence is difficult to find. For example, how do we know that documents in Latin from various knights were written by the knights and not by clerks they employed? Best guess is that your average knight knew enough Latin to do their jobs.

As for Ser Barristan, it certainly is a mark of distinction that he can speak so many languages. On the other hand, Ser Barristan was not your average knight – he was born the heir of House Selmy, a principal House of the Stormlands, he served in the Disputed Lands where most of his enemies would have been speaking some form of Valyrian, and he served in the Kingsguard which means spending time in the royal court. So he’s more likely to know a second language than most.

But a lesser landed knight who didn’t rate having a maester in their household? There’s a good chance they’re not functionally literate in the Common Tongue, let alone in Valyrian. 

This is kind of a follow up to the Aegon reforms question and I apologize if it is a bit long or boring. Do we have any information (or do you have any guesses) on how towns, cities and municipalities overall are originated and administered? Burghers were generally a separate class from manoral peasant IIRC and had unique privileges as well (though I may be wrong). Most municipalities seem to predate the Targs though so it seems a little unclear how is overseeing here. Additionally do you think

status hierarchy varies at all by region? I seem to recall from the Defiance of Duskendale section of WOIAF that Lord Darklyn was partially inspired by the fact that the Dornish lords retained their ability to autonomously administer cities (which is odd because they apparently don’t have any!). I completely understand if you want to correct me somewhere or if you think GRRM has not really developed this part of the worldbuilding.

One correction: Darklyn was primarily inspired by the Essosi paradigm (where you have full city-states), not the Dornish paradigm: “It was Lord Denys’s desire to win a charter for Duskendale that would give it more autonomy from the crown, much as had been done for Dorne many years before, that began the trouble. This did not seem to him such a vast demand; such charters were common across the narrow sea, as Lady Serala most certainly had told him.” (WOIAF, Aerys II)

The answer is we don’t know much. We know that city charters exist, we know they involve autonomy from the crown on some matters, notably “port fees and tariffs,” and that they require royal approval in the Crownlands and used to as well in the Riverlands when they were independent.

One thing we can say is that the most expansive form of rights, where cities were completely self-governing communes answerable to no one but the king, doesn’t exist in Westeros. White Harbor is ruled by the Manderlys, Oldtown by the Hightowers, Lannisport by the Lannisters, Gulltown by the Graftons.

From the little we know, city charters seem to be largely focused on taxation and other economic regulations – city charters allow cities to set their own port fees and tariff rates to some extent, allowing them to more effectively compete for trade. I say to some extent, because we know that Tywin and Aerys II fought over tariff rates and port fees at Oldtown, Lannisport, and King’s Landing, so it’s clearly not full autonomy. 

Based on historical parallels and the fact that city charters are expected to lead to expansion, my guess is that the main things that Westerosi charters involve are: 

  • the right to hold markets and fairs and regulate them.
  • the right to establish public warehouses where goods can be stored.
  • the staple right, which means foreign merchants have to unload their goods in your town and exhibit them for sale there for a given period before moving on. 
  • some sort of autonomy or revenue-sharing on port fees, tariffs, and other taxes on commerce. 

WarsofASOIAF Asks: A Successful Aegon V Reformation

Couple days back I was asked a question about how an Aegon V reformation would go down. Let’s say you’re the Hand of Aegon V. The Fortunate King has been able to successfully get all four of his marriages to go off without a hitch. I’m sure some form of your EDP’s will make their way into it, but what sort of acts would you do to reform and restructure the government for the sake of the smallfolk?

Cheers,

-SLAL

As I talked about a while back, it’s very hard to know what Aegon’s reforms consist of, because GRRM is very unspecific about them and because a lot depends on what precisely is the legal status of westerosi smallfolk.

But if I had to guess, I would say that there probably would be a lot of legal reforms – royal judges and sheriffs, eliminating the right of pit and gallows, the right to a jury, etc. – given the lawlessness of the period (especially in the Westerlands), Egg’s experience with local conflicts between nobles in the Reach, and so on.

Given that he gave food to the North during winter (which may also have been prompted to his trip to Winterfell), I think he was definitely focused on charity during natural disasters and the like.

But beyond that, I don’t know. 

In order for Dany to succeed, would she need to completely eradicate the master classes of Slaver’s Bay, or is there a more peaceful option?

Generally speaking, there’s really only two ways to prevent a revolution like Dany’s from going backwards – eliminate the population of the master class or eliminate what makes them a master class. 

The former involves a lot of revolutionary violence and/or exile. Deeply morally problematic, certainly, but a big part of Machiavelli’s chapter on cruelty in the Prince is an argument that it’s better to do it all at once, rather than leave things undone and deal with years and years of insurrectionary violence and reprisal-killing that will either bring down the new regime or require an incredibly heavy hand to put down, leading to more overall violence. 

The latter is much, much harder to pull off, because it means keeping alive a class that has an existential impulse to pull down the new order, and it requires a thorough power analysis – in other words, what made the master class the master class, and what would the newly-overthrown class need to get back on top, and how can we confiscate and redistribute the former while preventing them from getting their hands on the latter? And the reason why this is hard to pull off is that if you miss one element that gives the former masters a foundation to build power from, they’ll come roaring back with a vengeance. 

Let’s take Slaver’s Bay for an example. 

Astapor, Yunkai, and Meereen were slave societies, and particularly intense ones at that. Numbers were not what was keeping the Good/Wise/Great Masters in power – they are in fact outnumbered about 6:1. This is an advantage for a new regime, because the supermajority of ex-slaves itself can help keep the ex-masters in check. But since that ratio obtained back during the old regime, numbers alone aren’t sufficient.

So what did the master classes have that kept them in power? 

  • Firstly, a monopoly on violence, which they used with abandon to put the slave population in a state of terror – Astapor especially is a comprehensive example of how you use conspicuous exemplary punishment to instill fear in a population. Likewise, you look at how the Sons of the Harpy operated in Meereen and how the Yunkish put down the new regime in Astapor, and it’s pretty clear that the Masters really prefer this method of control to any other. 
  • Secondly, a monopoly on the means of production. Now, in the old regime this meant control on the slave training system that was the basis for much of the economy in Slaver’s Bay. However, as we see in Dany I of ADWD, it also crucially meant control over farmland, pasturage, mines, workshops and machinery, and shipping – the building blocks of a post-slavery economy. 
  • Thirdly, a monopoly on capital. This refers primarily to liquid capital, which is especially important when you consider how the Yunkish use their cash to hire mercenaries and bribe the Volantines into intervening.

So the question before us is how should Dany have dealt with these factors when embarking on her crusade? 

Violence:

Here, Dany made some good moves initially. Liberating the Unsullied of Astapor reduced the Good Masters to a few dozen inexperienced cavalrymen. Destroying the Yunkish army of slave infantry and mercenaries left the Wise Masters unable to resist any of Dany’s demands. Similarly, her decision in Meereen to mobilize the ex-slaves into the Brazen Beasts, the Mother’s Men, the Stalwart Shields, and the Free Brothers is a good one, in that it allows the freedmen to potentially defend themselves rather than relying entirely on Dany’s own forces and especially her dragons.

However, Dany made some significant mistakes along the way, as I discussed in my Laboratory of Politics essay and on my tumblr. In Astapor, she pulled out all of the Unsullied, meaning that the new government had no military to defend itself with from usurpers. In Yunkai, she left the Wise Masters in place while removing tens of thousands of ex-slaves from the city, allowing the new regime to re-arm itself without interference at home. In Meereen, while the city is sacked, the pyramids of the Great Masters are untouched and the former military elite are able to hide underneath Dany’s amnesty to form the hard core of the Sons of the Harpy. Similarly, the ex-masters were seemingly not disarmed following the Siege, allowing them to strike at both civilians and isolated soldiers. 

What Dany should have done was to leave a decent-sized garrison in Astapor and Yunkai to support the new government in both Astapor and Yunkai, which she should never have left in the hands of the Wise Masters. These Unsullied could have also provided training to the men of military age who would have joined the Mother’s Men, Stalwart Shields, and Free Brothers, providing those cities with a more substantial defensive force. Moreover, with the garrisons giving more security to the regime, it’s more likely that the tens of thousands of refugees who followed Dany, complicating supply issues, spreading disease, and eliminating the land route to Volantis would have stayed home.

Means of Production:

This is much more of a mixed bag. While the destruction of the ruling class of Astapor gave the ex-slaves control of the entire city’s resources, Dany’s decision to have the Yunkish only a limited reparation of “a weapon, and as much food, clothing, coin, and goods as he or she can carry” guaranteed that the ex-slaves who followed her would be starving refugees in short order. In Meereen, while a few ex-slaves with skills were able to set themselves up as weavers or prostitutes, her decision to allow the Great Masters to live and retain all their property meant that “they had freed their slaves, yes … only to hire them back as servants at wages so meagre that most could scarce afford to eat.“ 

At the same time, with no way of supporting themselves independently, tens of thousands of ex-slaves were thrown onto a buyer’s labor market, driving down wages and creating such a degree of economic insecurity that ex-slaves with human capital turn to selling themselves back into slavery, which symbolically threatens Dany’s revolution even if the majority of ex-slaves remain free. 

What Dany needed to do in both Yunkai and Meereen is to expropriate the workshops, farms, and urban real estate of the former masters and distribute it to the former slaves, so that the freedmen have a baseline of economic security and have an alternative to throwing themselves on the labor market for whatever wages are going as a means of survival, and so that the former masters can’t use their economic power to coerce the ex-slaves and non-slave-holding free people into subservience or use those assets against Dany personally (in the case of Meereen’s navy). In addition, giving the former slaves workshops and farms gives them a very personal and active stake in the survival of the new order – as we see with Rylona Rhee, slaves who have economic independence get active politically, forming the leadership of a new political class. 

Capital:

As I’ve suggested above, control over access to liquid capital is very important, both because the ex-masters are going to use their cash to hire mercenaries, bribe Volantines, and entice non-slaveholders into joining the Sons of the Harpy, and because Dany badly needs that liquid capital to create a new economic order that doesn’t rely on the training and selling of slaves.

Yes, it’s true that Slaver’s Bay doesn’t have a huge amount of currently exploitable resources to build an economy on – copper being less valuable in a post-iron era, the Great Master’s damaging scorched-earth strategy, etc. But one of the things you can buy with money are saplings to plant in place of the vanished cedars and the burnt olive groves, tools and labor and materials to improve irrigation systems so that the hinterlands can make the cities more self-sufficient for food, equipment and labor to expand salt and copper mining and prospect for other minerals, ships to compete in non-slave based commerce, and so on.

More importantly, getting that cash out of the masters’ hands – as Dany belatedly does when she imposes the blood tax – means that they don’t have the resources to hire mercenaries, bribe anyone, or recruit Sons of the Harpy. 

Conclusion

In addition to all of this, we can’t neglect the importance of the symbolic. A big part of the reason why the Masters were able to hold such sway over their cities was that they could afford display of power and importance – hence the tokar, the crazy hair, and so on and so forth. While the Masters lost most of their human wealth with Dany’s revolution, they still had the money and the property with which to undergird their public image.

But take all of that away from them, reduce them to the level of just another ordinary citizen who has to work for a living, and you eliminate the mystique. Non only does the ex-slave not have to knuckle under to them to live, but the ex-non-slaveowner has no reason to show them political or social or cultural deference. Rather than being the one-and-former rulers revenging themselves on the occupier, they’re a bunch of impotent dead-enders. 

In that circumstance, Shavepate’s cultural revolution seems like the better bet – whether that’s a position in the Brazen Beasts, a job working in Dany’s palace, a seat on the ruling council, etc.

Do the members of the small council (Master of Ships, Laws, Coin, Hand of the King, etc) draw a salary? Or maybe get some kind of break on taxes owed? Or does having such political influence make payment unnecessary?

I could have sworn I wrote about this before, but can’t find where I wrote it, so at the risk of repeating myself, I’ll do it again.

Yes, they probably get a salary, but probably not a large one in part because the Small Councilors are supposed to be noblemen who live off the incomes of their lands.  

If Westeros is like Medieval and Early-Modern England to any extent (and since GRRM is largely drawing from English history here it probably is), then there are salaries that come from working for the monarch, either in the private household or the government itself.

For example, Queen Elizabeth I’s laundress got paid 

£4 annually, plus another 

£6 to pay for livery (i.e, clothing with the queen’s sigil, her required uniform). Her Lord Keeper of the Great Seal, a high-ranking Privy Councilor charged with keeping the seal of England, got paid 

£919 pounds annually, and that was pretty good for the time.  

At the time, however, there was also a form of socially accepted bribery and kickbacks. As Lacey Baldwin Smith points out in The Elizabethan World:

“…no Elizabethan official ever received a salary that was commensurate with his position: the Lord Keeper of the Great Seal earned a stipend of 919 pounds a year; the Lord Admiral 200 pounds, and the principal secretary 100 pounds, but in 1601 all three posts were actually valued at approximately 3,000 pounds a year. Gratuities and fees for promoting a friend, urging a favor, giving information, and above all, for tapping and directing the bounty of the queen made up the difference…they were considered the legitimate perquisites of office in an age that regarded governmental posts as both public trusts and private sinecures.”

So chances are that the Master of Laws gets gratuities from people seeking to have their cases heard by the King, the Master of Ships from merchants or shipbuilders looking for business, etc. However, as we see with the case of Littlefinger and Janos Slynt, there are informal norms about what’s ok to do and what isn’t – Stannis recognizes that bribes happen, but treats selling officer positions in the Gold Cloaks as unacceptable; Littlefinger putting his own men in office is normal, but using public funds as his own investment bank is not.