About book Peace Kills: America's Fun New Imperialism (2005)
I'm grateful that I spent only 25 cents on this crap -- in the overstock section of the Lawrenceville library (which is basically just a homeless shelter without any beds). For years, friends have recommended P.J. O'Rourke, and after reading an agreeable Atlantic article (about jumbo-jets), I figured I'd give O'Rourke a shot. However he earned his reputation, it was certainly not for "Peace Kills," a collection of essays (basically) about 9/11 and its aftermath. Libertarian ethos aside, O'Rourke is as smug as his press-photo smile; his mind seems made up before he approaches a topic, and it comes about as an elongated thumbs-up/thumbs-down analysis (Kuwait good, U.S. soldiers good, Bush bad, Clinton bad, government bad, Iraqis selfish, etc.) His analysis is petty and boring (essentially, the Iraqis have failed themselves because they aren't bright or courteous enough to form a line while waiting for aid). Its one redeemer is a first-person essay about an anti-war rally in D.C.; he offers no thesis, but records the signs and costumes sported by the hodgepodge of activists. Anti-war as I am, it was good to hear a conservative perspective -- that the anti-war movement is often anarchic; protesters often use busking and goofy masks to announce their perspective, but the messages are often eerie or conflicting. Signs equating Israelis to Nazis is pointlessly offensive and it makes Leftists look stupid. The Left is generally too anxious, these days, to modify its tack; O'Rourke may be obnoxious, but he has pointed out, with relative gentleness, the weakness of the Left's tactics. In a way, he's doing the Left a favor.
I like P.J.'s satire for the most part, in certain moods--i.e. when I feel like be brutally realistic. No one can accuse O'Rourke of romanticism or sentimentalism, and he's mostly very amusing on the subject of everyone else's romantic, sentimental views--liberal idealism and, fortunately, republican mythology too (of unconstrained private capital, "family values" and sexual morality, the "war on drugs," religious righteousness, America's global role, etc.). He's certainly more tolerant of the Bushes than the Clintons, whom he seems to loathe, but he doesn't come across as the hawk his title might suggest. In fact, if the book intends some sort of argument in favor of war, it doesn't succeed or even make that argument clear. As a whole, the book falls short of some of his other efforts ("A Parliament of Whores," for instance), though a couple of chapters stand out: his coverage of peace demonstrations in D.C. is pretty hilarious, on the one hand, and his final chapter, about Iwo Jima, is both poignant and irreverent, in that it looks honestly at the island's history and its present role. Tour groups of U.S. Marines, for example, are still sent to the Japanese-owned Pacific island (more a volcanic cinder-heap) for "motivational" purposes.
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Shtick: A liberal goes to war and brings back horrific images of carnage and suffering. A conservative goes to war and brings back - images of bureaucratic ineptitude and ugly overstuffed couches. That's P.J. for you. This collection quickly gets tiresome, supercilious, and condescending. I'm not a conservative, but I have enjoyed P.J. before as a good writer, wickedly observant and self-aware. This ain't it, though. Jaklak sez check it out if you're a member of the choir and want to be preached to. Otherwise, keep walking.
—Bryan
I don't know whether it's me or P.J. but man, he's getting stale. Okay, it's him. Same sarcastic P.J. coming from the same center-right perspective. Nothing new here. And in this age of insta-snark from countless blogs, much of which is garbage, yes, but much of which is funny as hell Mr. O'Rourke seems...old. If you're a fan of his older stuff it's probably worth picking up so long as you don't pay much for it. This was a $3 library sale book - about right, I'd say. If you're not already a fan skip it and get something better, like Holidays in Hell or Parliament of Whores. Dated as they are, they're still very good reads.
—Robert
When someone figures out what the actual point of this book is, please be so kind as to tell me. There's simply nothing here; he's not saying a single thing. The whole book is like listening to that awkward drunk uncle at Thanksgiving who is really bad at telling stories but somehow manages to dominate the afternoon with slurred-out, half-baked but over-tired witticisms. You're just looking forward to him passing out so you can finally talk about something that won't make you wish you were the one with the bottle in hand instead.
—elizabeth.
