Bwahaha...

A Manual for Left-Wing Living
By KYLE SMITH
The Nation Guide to the Nation By Richard Lingeman and the editors of The Nation Vintage, 384 pages, $19.95

For 143 years, The Nation magazine has maintained, in its adorable way, the blue-faced scowl of an angry toddler shaking its fist at the grown-ups. But while you could go to The Nation in recent years for instruction on how to think about the latest perfidy of the Bush administration, the magazine was no help when it came to advice on, say, how to find a really good lesbian knitting cooperative within easy bicycling distance or where to buy anti-globalization comic books printed on recycled hemp.

The long wait is over. Now comes "The Nation Guide to the Nation," a travelog/catalog/almanac (whatever you do, don't call it a bible) "for and about a community of committed, passionate people who have active consciences and a lively sense of social justice." In keeping with the spirit of the undertaking, here's what might be called The Guide to "The Nation Guide to the Nation":
Sling That Antique Slang, You Crazy Cats! "Dig this premise," begins one entry, while another ends: ". . . they were operating on musicians' rather than squares' time." This book seems destined to be the last publication on the planet to print the word 'tude. On second thought, Entertainment Weekly isn't out of the running.

Remember: It's Not Cruel and Unusual if It's Onstage. If you were locked up in prison, what would be tops on your wish list to help pass the time? A little mid-century absurdist theater, of course! The Nation guide informs us that a Minneapolis group called "Ten Thousand Things Theater" is dedicated to visiting unsuspecting inmates, upon whom the actors proceed to inflict Lorca, Beckett and Brecht. Try to picture what would have happened to Johnny Cash at Folsom Prison if he had taken the stage and said: "Hello, I'm here to read y'all a little Ionesco . . ."
Advance the Hilarity of Earnestness. The 1925 Soviet agitprop film "The Battleship Potemkin," we learn, is "electrifying," though it was "more popular in export than at home." You mean the people who actually lived under Soviet Communism weren't as thrilled with the movie as were Greenwich Village cineastes? Must have been the popcorn.

Demolish the Genocidal Imperialist Warmongering Neocon Cabal. With Puppets. "In the Heart of the Beast Puppet and Mask Theater." "Bread & Puppet Theater." "Spiral Q Puppet Theater." What is it with the left and puppets? It's like they think Marxism is cuter with a forearm coming out of its furry backside. Say what you want about Paul Wolfowitz, but at least when he advocated pre-emptive action against rogue states, he didn't do it in the voice of Miss Piggy.
Fight the Power -- Buy Retail. The Nation guide recommends a bookstore in Madison, Wis., by saying: "George W. Bush, Dick Cheney and Donald Rumsfeld do not want you to shop at Rainbow Bookstore Cooperative." Yeah, remember that clerk, Dylan, the guy who was named Rainbow employee of the month last June? He's in Gitmo now.

Gird Yourself for Exciting Yet Imaginary Battles! As far as The Nation is concerned, just about every progressive bookstore, musician, theater troupe and mime is committed to fighting the stranglehold of censorship. Except, well, they don't actually get censored, so it's like they're committed to fighting the stranglehold of Klingons. The major exception is the City Lights bookstore in San Francisco, which successfully fought off a censorship bust back in 1957. Somehow, in its City Lights discussion, The Nation uncharacteristically misses an obvious Liar Bush connection: The future occupier of the stolen presidency was 11 at the time. Eleven. As in 9/11. He was born on July 6. Six is nine upside-down. Are you digging me, daddy-o?
Take a Cue From the People's Front of Judea. In Monty Python's "Life of Brian," the People's Front of Judea was always prepared to respond to any crisis with an immediate burst of discussion. In "The Nation Guide to the Nation," praise is showered on the Brecht Forum cultural center in New York, which the editors note was recommended in 2000 by the Village Voice as the "Best place to start thinking about the revolution." Keep cogitating, revolutionistas. Someday your putsch will come.