I haven’t seen Fahrenheit 9/11 and I have no intention to. So, if you want to make one of those pious declarations about how you can’t judge the movie unless you’ve seen it, be my guest. It’s a fair response as far as it goes. But just for the record, I haven’t seen the Bare Wench Project either. But few would argue I need to see it before I can form any opinions about porn movies. Such opinions might include: bad lighting, too many fat hairy guys getting in the camera’s way, etc.

Which brings me to Michael Moore. He has officially become one of those rare figures who simply by his existence illuminates a great deal about politics. I don’t need to know very much about you or your ideas to know that if you think Michael Moore is just great, a truth-teller and a much-needed tonic for everything that is wrong in American life, you are not someone to take seriously about anything of political consequence, or you are French. But I repeat myself.

Now that is not to say that if you think Moore is useful or coming from the “right direction” or some such that you aren’t a serious person. One liberal friend (a prominent journalist) who went to the premiere noted that while Moore is for the most part a fraud and a hack, he serves the “cause” by pulling the debate back toward the left; he keeps people on their toes; he raises useful issues, etc. After all, Moore was the one who reintroduced the whole Bush-is-a-deserter canard, which may have torpedoed Wesley Clark’s already sinking ship but buoyed the Democrats generally. I have some sincere problems with this sort of “side of the angels” argument–one that is frequently heard on the right about some of our own embarrassments, by the way. But it’s certainly true that you can be intellectually honest and serious and hold such opinions. (See David Edelstein’s review in Slate for an example.)

But the fact remains that the more you think Michael Moore is an insightful and honest person the less reason there is for the rest of us to pay attention when your lips are moving.

Now, I have no doubt that I will be getting some e-mail from someone or other shouting “What about Limbaugh!?”–or Robertson, or Coulter, or Michael Savage. These are different people each deserving different defenses (and different criticisms). But whatever these guys may or may not be guilty of is beside the point. The point is that the Moore-lovers themselves think there are absolutely no redeeming qualities to the alleged monsters in the right-wing parade of horribles, and yet they hypocritically create their own Frankenstein just so they can have a brazen liar of their own. In other words, if you think Rush Limbaugh is a hateful liar who is destroying America, you do not defend Michael Moore or yourself by saying “Moore is our Limbaugh!” Fighting fire with fire is fine in war, but in debates fighting perceived lies with willful ones wins you few points.

What’s worse is that most conservatives, including myself, do not think Limbaugh is a brazen liar. Most of the Washington liberals celebrating Moore–outside the DNC where he is simply a hero–concede that Moore is a liar, a propagandist, a crafty fool. Moreover, Limbaugh can answer a question about what he believes without changing the subject or reaching down his pants for a fistful of red-herrings. Moore cannot. Indeed, Moore’s contempt for the press and fact-checking is greater than anything that ever came out of Ari Fleisher’s mouth, and yet his fans do not care. After his bitchy speech at the Academy Awards, Moore insisted he wasn’t booed by anybody, or the booing was artificially amplified by conspirators, or the booers were actually being booed because everyone likes Mike. But the one thing he was sure of was that the press shouldn’t tell the truth. “Now do your job,” he instructed reporters. “Don’t report it was a divided house. Only five loud people were booing.” What else do you expect from a guy whose response to questions about his accuracy are met with threats of lawsuits?

Anyway, as I said, if you think Moore is great you are generally immune to the power of facts and reason, so I doubt the above will even be a speed bump for the e-mail to come.

Now, I have no doubt that there’s much fine craftsmanship in Moore’s film. And I’m sure there are gut-wrenching scenes of violence, loss, fear, anguish, etc. Several friends and reviewers have noted that the film’s greatest successes come with its various depictions of the costs of war. Fine.

But there are two things to keep in mind about this. First, to the extent that Moore’s depictions of grieving mothers and remorseful soldiers are accurate, they are true of pretty much every war ever fought. The notion that the Iraq war is somehow unique because some American soldiers did not want to fight it or because some mothers didn’t think it was worth losing their sons to it is bunkum. All things being equal, it would be easy–easier in fact–to show similar grief and remorse about World War II or the Civil War (and I have little doubt that had Moore been given the opportunity, he would have). But that is not a persuasive argument against fighting those wars. It would merely be an indication of the very real costs of those wars.

Which brings us to point number two. The powerful emotions unleashed in Moore’s film have nothing to do with the slanderous, fact-free arguments he makes.

In fact–hold on a minute–he doesn’t make arguments. Arguments require the marshalling of facts under the yoke of reason. Moore makes claims and assertions. He offers visual innuendo. He raises your passions about X so that you will believe Y must be true. He is a whispering Loki who values passion over persuasion, which is one reason he’s changed his claims against Bush so many times. See Christopher Hitchens’s review for more on that.

But let’s call Moore’s concatenation of half-truths an “argument.” Also, let’s stipulate that the Iraq war is terrible, horrendous, mistaken, and evil (it is none of those things). How does any of that prove it was launched to obscure Bush’s ties to the bin Ladens? It doesn’t and neither does Moore. That’s at least what everybody who has seen the film says, on the left and the right (Terry McAuliffe excepted). Or listen to Gwen Ifill–famed right-winger that she is–on yesterday’s Meet the Press: “You know, I look at this movie as a journalist, and as a journalist I have this affection for facts and accuracy. And even though there are facts in this movie, on whole it’s not accurate. Michael Moore is guilty of the same thing that he and a lot of Democrats say that the Republicans are guilty of.” By which she means that Moore juxtaposes one set of facts with another and says they must be related–precisely the complaint the Left makes about ties between al Qaeda and Iraq.

Moore grabs at your base passions to power through his narrative. Which brings me back where I started. The one genre that has mastered the stringing together of unrelated or barely related scenes and facts without much care for the coherence of the narrative solely for the purpose of a visceral response in the audience is, in fact, pornography and Moore is the master of the masturbatory craft.

Tim Russert was right yesterday when he said Moore doesn’t deserve to be called a “documentary maker”–but he most certainly deserves his Palme d’Or.