The Biblical Basis For War
Audioli #3 - Two Minutes Past Nine
Friends,
I have a dilemma. Some of you are podcast-heads and some of you have lives. That’s a situation I didn’t anticipate when I started serving up Audioli. I didn’t think too much about who would read these notes—I just thought about how fun it would be to write regularly again, like I used to when I penned my travel column for CNN.com. (It was called The State I’m In, and yes the name was an allusion to the Belle & Sebastian song…they wouldn’t go for Dear Catastrophe Waitress.)
Now I have a small conundrum: Do I recommend pods for the heads—the Hearsay attendees who polish their 1/4 inch adapters every time they hear Rikke Houd whisper about an icy lake? Or do I make suggestions for the people in my life who know about podcasts because Carrie Bradshaw has one now?
For the moment my answer is the same as what I tell my bodega guy when he asks if I want hot sauce or ketchup on my egg sandwich—both.
Why the wind-up? Because for the past couple weeks I've been relistening to an excellent podcast trilogy on far-right extremism—portions of which received a fair amount of praise and consideration in audio circles when they were released. However, an informal poll of non-audio people (the aforementioned bodega guy, my mom) revealed they hadn’t heard of it. If we have any hope of getting our democracy out of harm’s way, we’re going to need to take a clear-eyed look at how deeply rooted anti-government ideology is in our country, and that’s exactly the m.o. of the shows I’m recommending this week.
We all followed the January 6th anniversary coverage a couple weeks back, but very little of that reporting looked at the historical underpinnings of what happened that day. Longtime observers of militias and extremist groups have been watching anti-government ideology move from the fringe to to the center for years. In fact, as I work up this note on the E Train, here in the heart of deep blue NYC, a man sitting across from me is wearing a hat with a black American flag—a symbol that, to some, means “give no quarter,” i.e. if you’re caught you will be killed.
To be fair I was wearing a black silk scarf from Margaret Howell but that’s fashion NOT fascism!
I’m going to suggest three shows: The first two, Bundyville and Bundyville: The Remnant, are a series. The third, Two Minutes Past Nine, exists on a separate feed. What unifies them is Leah Sottile, the bright, courageous journalist who hosted and co-wrote all three.
.
Those are this week’s picks. Newsletter skimmers are free to leave now and go put grass-fed beef collagen peptides in their smoothies! For those who want more context, read on…
Eight years ago, on a plane to California, I read a story in the newspaper about Cliven Bundy, a rancher from Nevada who had been illegally grazing cattle on federally protected land for decades. After repeated warnings and ignored subpoenas, the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) paid Cliven a visit. But since he didn’t recognize the authority of the Federal Government, he refused to let BLM agents enter what he claimed was his property, and in doing so became a hero in right-wing media. Quickly, militia members from around the country, as well as non-militia-aligned Americans with federal government issues, flocked to Bundy’s ranch to "protect" his rights. A stand-off ensued and the BLM backed down. Emboldened alumni of the stand-off went on to engage in a number of aggressive and sometimes violent actions against the government. And to think—there I was eating Biscoff cookies and stealing glimpses of Vanderpump Rules off my neighbor’s screen while 38,000 feet below me, Bundy and co. were brandishing weapons and overpowering the government. That’s not a bad metaphor for how big city liberals like me act between elections compared to Republicans.
As its name would suggest, in Bundyville, Sottile gives us a deep dive on the ornery rancher from Bunkerville, Nevada. We learn about his ancestors, Mormons looking to flee what they felt was government persecution but in reality were laws against polygamy and other practices. And we learn about his progeny, including his sons Ammon and Ryan Bundy, who led the takeover of the Malheur National Wildlife Refuge, a stand-off that resulted in many arrests and one death, and the amalgam of militias and malcontents inspired by Cliven’s victory over the government. Sottile takes us to rallies, introduces us to true believers and the people who track them. She and her producer Ryan Haas go wherever the story takes them, eventually ending up in Cliven Bundy’s living room talking to the man himself, as he sits stroking the blonde head of one of his 66 grandchildren.
In Bundyville: The Remnant, Sottile’s investigation of a little-known bombing in Nevada sends her on a tour through the past and present of Western anti-government and hate groups. She tells the real story of LaVoy Finicum, a driven but failed man who became a martyr to the Patriot movement after being shot by the Feds during the occupation of the Malheur Wildlife Refuge. She profiles a secretive religious community in Stevens County, WA, built on anti-government sentiment that seems similar to that group from Wild Wild Country, but with with a lot less bling. And perhaps most ominously she tells the story of Matt Shea, an elected official itching for government collapse—an event that would wreak havoc on his pension, but would allow him to deploy his self-penned Biblical Basis For War, a plan for creating a theocracy after the US government fails and filled with charming tips like “Kill all men.”
The last series, Two Minutes Past Nine (coincidentally the time I wake up when I my first Zoom meeting starts at 9:30), looks at the story behind someone whose name comes up again and again in Sottile’s reporting on extremism: Timothy McVeigh, the veteran who turned a moving truck into a bomb that killed 168 people and injured 684 others at the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City. There’s been a lot of talk about the potential for civil war in the US, and Two Minutes makes vivid the awful reality should such prognostications come true. As with her previous work, Sottile succeeds in showing us the person behind the headlines, tracking down sources like one of McVeigh’s sergeant’s from his time in the army who, we learn, satisfyingly, once punched him in the face.
Taken together these pods are a primer on the origins of right-wing extremism and a hella frightening look at a number of angry, broken men. It’s also worth noting that even though the topic is heavy, Sottile, like the alt-weekly reporter she once was, is always approachable and engaging. In the Bundyville pods in particular, she and her producer Haas are proxy for the audience, as they nervously insinuate themselves into events and try to tamp down their incredulity while tag-teaming interviews with sources.
Field work is Sottile’s secret sauce. To find out what’s truly going on in politics requires the same things that it takes to make it in politics—shoe leather and money. I highly doubt the path to heal our broken body politic runs through Chapo Trap House. It’s unlikely that Pod Save America will live up to its name. Those shows make some feel less lonely and help them organize their thoughts, but it’s endeavors like Bundyville and Two Minutes Past Nine that can help us properly diagnose what ails our democracy. And I hope we do, because it would be a shame if I had to turn my Margaret Howell scarf into a wick for a molotov cocktail!
I know, I know, Audioli has covered some pretty heavy topics so far: killer robots, dead children, hate groups. I promise next time I will come through with some upbeat pod recs. In fact, if you have a funny podcast you love, email me or leave its name in the comments below.
Best,
BFN
BAGATELLE:
I’ve been following the Australian Open the best I can for someone who refuses to pay for ESPN. The wonderful magazine Racquet helps.
Sometimes when famous people pass, social media and topical pods’ coverage can feel redundant and unbearable. And sometimes, as with Sam Sanders’s remembrance of the late André Leon Talley, it can be moving and informative.
Thanks for recommendations, not the least of which is Racquet. I follow tennis closely. But the mag is new to me.