Not surprisingly, junta leader Gen. Prayuth Chan-ocha's hand-picked legislature voted 191-0, with three abstentions to legitimize the coup leader's role as head of government. He was the only candidate.
Michael Sullivan, reporting for NPR from Thailand, says: "Today's vote is the first step toward creating an interim government, but the army remains firmly in control. Gen. Prayuth says his aim is to create conditions to allow fresh elections and a restoration of democratic rule by October of next year."
The Associated Press reports that Prayuth, 60, is due to retire from the army next month and until then will hold both positions.
"Thursday's appointment appears aimed at keeping him at the helm as the military implements sweeping political reforms critics say are designed to purge the ousted ruling party's influence and benefit an elite minority that has failed to win national elections for more than a decade."
"'He could have refused the job, but what would be the point?' said Pavin Chachavalpongpun, a Thai professor of Southeast Asian studies at Japan's Kyoto University.
"'If he wasn't prime minister, he would have been manipulating the prime minister from behind the scenes,' said Pavin, whose passport was revoked after he criticized the coup and refused to respond to a junta summons ordering him home."
In an article in The Bangkok Post headlined, "After vote, Prayuth gives coy smile," the general is quoted as saying he had not been approached prior to being nominated on Thursday.
"I only want ... the country to move forward," he told the English-language daily.
Last month, the country's ailing 86-year-old King Bhumibol Adulyadej approved a junta-authored provisional constitution, the 19th since the end of absolute monarchy in 1932. In it, the ruling military council, known as the National Council for Peace and Order, or NCPO, maintains near complete control.
Prayuth staged a May 22 coup against Prime Minster Yingluck Shinawatra, who, like her older brother, former Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra, was ousted by the military despite landslide election victories. May's putsch marked the 12th time in 82 years that Thailand's military has seized the reins of government.
Ahead of Thursday's vote, The Wall Street Journal reported that Prayuth had promised the new constitution would be the second phase of a three-step program of overhauling the country's politics:
"That plan focuses on eradicating corruption and promoting good governance and a proper checks-and-balances system.
"The junta will be in charge of security affairs and provide advice and recommendations to the new government, Gen. Prayuth said earlier.
"Political analysts predicted that the general himself may take the position of prime minister. 'I think it's going to be a spoils system. Prayuth's loyalists will get nice postings [in the cabinet],' said Paul Chambers, a professor and military analyst at Thailand's Chiang Mai University."
[This piece contains plot details from Let's Be Cops. It is not a movie about its plot details, but there you have it.]
The word is out on the buddy comedy Let's Be Cops, starring Damon Wayans, Jr. and Jake Johnson - both enormously charming actors on Fox's New Girl. And what is the word? That the movie is not good, and the movie is rather atrociously timed, given that we are not in a place in the news cycle where people are enormously amused by stories about goofball police officers threatening people with nonfunctioning guns.
It's all true: the movie is not good. It's full of nasty cultural caricatures and has perhaps the most conventionally structured third act imaginable, in which our heroes overcome their limitations and triumph and a couple of Russian bad guys get what's coming to them. And it's atrociously timed - unless, of course, you think it's perfectly timed.
The first act of Let's Be Cops introduces Ryan (Johnson) and Justin (Wayans) as men in the circumstances movies and television continue to find more fascinating than any other: they are men who feel like they are unsuccessful at being men. Justin is undercut at work and terrified to pursue the girl of his dreams. Ryan is washed-up and lost, humiliated by even little kids believing he's not worth anything. They are very different men: Ryan is extroverted, goofy, childlike; Justin is quiet, easily embarrassed, serious. But they have the same problem: utter powerlessness. No status. No respect.
And when they find themselves strolling down the street in police costumes (there's some hand-waving about how somehow everything they're wearing is totally real, except that the guns, while real, don't fire), they discover what it's like to bully strangers because you can. They discover what it's like to be a powerless man, frustrated by having no status and no sex life and nobody who just for heaven's sake does what you say, and suddenly find that you can frivolously, needlessly, capriciously holler at someone in the street and he will literally feel so compelled to comply that he'll fly off his skateboard and hurt himself.
They learn - Ryan especially - that other people's blind obedience is intoxicating. They have learned what it feels like to have power. Or, really, what it means to have authority. Finally, the world around him is doing what he damn well tells it to do. Justin learns the same. He can give orders just to give orders. Make guys he thinks are jerks stand and dance for him. Make them humiliate themselves.
It's not enough that they stand on the street practicing the fine art of "because I said so" policing, cracking up when people stop on the street just because they're told to. They also are eyeballed hungrily by all manner of women and, because it's the least ridiculous way the filmmakers could think of to justify the implication of sex on demand as a side benefit of being a police officer, a group of giggling women on a "scavenger hunt" that requires kissing a cop run up and literally hurl themselves at Ryan and Justin.
This is the premise of the movie: If a man - here, two men - found themselves powerless and unrecognized and disrespected, wouldn't it be hilarious if they took on the authority of law enforcement so that they could whimsically push around strangers, take out their negative feelings about their bosses on people who make the mistake of being on the street, commander cars for no reason except that they said so, and hoodwink women into making themselves available?
Wouldn't that be hilarious?
There is a moment in Let's Be Cops in which Ryan shows Justin the completely convincing fake police car he's created - vehicle from eBay, lights he added himself, police logos he printed at Kinko's and smoothed on until you can't tell the difference between this car and a real car. This scene is played for humor, for the way Justin is the "I don't know, man" friend, the one who thinks maybe this is all going too far, because maybe they're going to get in trouble.
To me, this was a scene of pure menace, about as lighthearted as watching a comedy where one of the heroes was building a dungeon to chain up women in response to his difficulty getting a date. The concept of a man in possession of a convincing police car is terrifying. I wanted to find it funny, I really did. These are two of my favorite actors on TV. I wanted to be with them, to understand that at another time in another place, it really would have been funny.
But it made me think about all the conversations we've had in recent days about what different people's encounters with the police feel like; how the police are friendly, perhaps overly stern fellows to some people and dangerous to others. Perhaps a fake police car is a hilarious idea to Luke Greenfield and Nicholas Thomas, who wrote this movie; to me, it's a point of no return where only a conclusion that satirized how easily authority (of any kind) can be abused could have saved the movie. It could still have been funny, but it would have had to be darkly funny, funny in a way that ended with Ryan locked up.
That's not where they're going with this.
Instead, the only lesson they really learn about this being unfair and wrong is that it's unfair to real cops. Rob Riggle plays such a real cop, who befriends the two along the way and who, at one point, must necessarily express his deep disappointment that they've dishonored the uniform by putting it on fraudulently. He takes offense. They feel chided. This is a moment of seriousness; it is a moment in which men become men. They become men, in short, by wanting to live up to the expectations of other powerful men. For this, for dishonoring real cops, they must apologize. They must make amends. This is the climactic moment of the film in its capacity as a feel-good story about two guys growing up.
Never do they feel embarrassed, and never are they upbraided, and never do they apologize, for going into houses where frightened people have called 911 and pretending to be responding police officers. Never are they embarrassed about the people whose cars they stole, whose pot they smoked, whose evenings they interrupted, just to feel powerful. Over the credits, we're shown more of those things, because those things are still funny. To become men, they are asked to deserve the status they pretended to have, not to recognize the wrongs they did with it. They are revealed as counterfeiters and frauds, thieves of status that others deserve, not bullies and criminals. It is their presumptuousness that must be atoned for.
And in the end, they get what they wanted: Justin gets the girl, Ryan gets approval and a sense of accomplishment, and they both have the power they initially lacked. By pushing around strangers, by experimenting with power, and then by being shamed by another, higher-status man and wanting to make him proud, they have become men. They have grown up.
Ryan still drives all over the sidewalk like a moron forcing people to jump out the way, of course, but - spoiler alert - now he's a real cop. So now it's totally okay. He has, as he was ordered to do earlier, earned it
For decades, John Blake Jr. created a rare role for the violin within the jazz of his eras. A versatile player, he worked memorably with Archie Shepp, Grover Washington Jr., and McCoy Tyner. He released several solo recordings. He taught in conservatories and mentored many outside the classroom.
Blake died Friday, Aug. 15 from complications due to multiple myeloma, according to his family. He was 67.
In 2001, Blake appeared on NPR's Billy Taylor's Jazz At The Kennedy Center, a program which brought in guest artists for an interview and performance with Taylor's trio. The episode can be heard at the audio link above. Here's the description of the show as it originally appeared on NPR.org:
This edition of Billy Taylor's Jazz At The Kennedy Center spotlights violinist John Blake. Blake has worked with saxophonist Grover Washington Jr. and pianist McCoy Tyner, among other jazz greats, led groups under his own name and distinguished himself as a music educator. After opening with an unabashedly swinging reading of Nat Adderley's "Work Song" — which also features Dr. Taylor on piano, bassist Chip Jackson and drummer Winard Harper — Blake, a native Philadelphian, begins discussing the origins of his musical development. He informs Dr. Taylor and the Kennedy Center audience that his first instrument was not the violin but the piano. As with many jazz musicians, his musical foundation came from the European classical tradition.
By the time Blake reached third grade, however, he'd discovered the instrument for which he is best known and became acquainted with the work of renowned violinists such as Isaac Stern. Later in his musical studies, Blake discovered Indian music — an influence which continues to inform his approach to the instrument and which finds its way into a uniquely lyrical reading of "All The Things You Are" with Dr. Taylor and his trio.
Following this well-received performance, Blake and Dr. Taylor discuss the influence of the late saxophonist Grover Washington Jr. and Blake's five-year tenure with pianist McCoy Tyner. The violinist then delights the Kennedy Center audience with a rhythmically fecund solo reading of Tyner's "Passion Dance."
In the course of answering audience questions with Dr. Taylor, Blake is asked the source of his greatest musical inspiration. His mother "playing behind church choirs," he responds, noting that he tries to infuse his playing with the same degree of passion and inspiration. After an appropriately passionate, Latin-tinged interpretation of "Here's That Rainy Day" performed with the trio, Dr. Taylor asks Blake if there is a different technique for teaching jazz rather than classical music. Blake tells Dr. Taylor that a key to introducing students to jazz is getting them to embrace the concepts of improvisation and imagination. Those concepts and more are magnificently displayed in the evening's concluding performance, a robustly swinging rendition of the Dizzy Gillespie classic "A Night In Tunisia."
Oxymoronic, isn't it, the idea of a "good psychopath"?
But in their just published book, The Good Psychopath's Guide To Success, Andy McNab and Kevin Dutton argue that relying on some psychopathic traits can lead to a more successful life.
Their checklist of psychopathic traits includes: charisma, charm, coolness under pressure, fearlessness, focus, impulsivity, lack of conscience, mental toughness, reduced empathy and ruthlessness.
"None of these characteristics are inherently bad in themselves," Kevin says. "When they become dysfunctional is when they are deployed inflexibly in the wrong contexts."
On the other hand, functional psychopaths — according to the book — are able to modulate their feelings to be more productive in business, in politics and in life.
The Path To Psychopathy
Don't we already have enough psychopaths in the world? we ask Kevin. By encouraging people to get in touch with their inner psychopath, aren't you removing guilt and shame and conscience from the equation? Won't that be deleterious to society?
"I'm not saying that psychopaths per se are good for society," Kevin says. "A pure psychopath is going to ruin his or her life and also the lives of those who they come into contact with."
But Kevin does believe that certain psychopathic characteristics, such as those listed above, "can — when dialed up at certain levels, in certain combinations, and in certain contexts — predispose one to success."
No Such Thing
The whole idea of a "good psychopath" has succeeded in upsetting Lillian Glass, a behavioral analyst who has written or co-written a raft of books including Toxic People: 10 Ways Of Dealing With People Who Make Your Life Miserable and A Guide To Identifying Terrorists Through Body Language.
"The words 'psychopath' and 'success' should never be in the same sentence," Lillian says. "Psychopaths are dangerous people and to encourage someone to act like a psychopath is both irresponsible and dangerous."
She does not subscribe to the notion that we all have some psychopath within us. "You either are one or you are not one," she says. "And if you are a psychopath, you don't dial up the levels of the traits ... It can't be done. Psychopaths don't pick and choose how ruthless or non-empathetic they will be. They are these traits and it is not by degree."
Lillian says, "All of these characteristics are wrong when they hurt others. A lack of conscience is very wrong and an absence of one can lead to committing criminal acts on others. Ruthlessness is not a good characteristic. It is a bad characteristic."
So, we ask Oxonian Kevin Dutton, can you point to a successful psychopath who has made positive contributions to the world?
"Psychopathy is on a spectrum," Kevin says. "It is neither all-or-nothing. Nor should 'successful psychopathy' be removed from context. But someone who was pretty high on the psychopathic spectrum was Winston Churchill."
The Protojournalist: Experimental storytelling for the LURVers — Listeners, Users, Readers, Viewers — of NPR. @NPRtpj
Follow the Celtic music trail to Cornwall, the Isle of Man, Galicia, Asturias, Wales and Brittany.