Year: 2003

“I’ve discovered an immediate practical use for a small portion of my emergency supply of Duct Tape. I’ve placed 2 strips at the bottom of my Television screen – covering the lower 6″ or so, blocking out the annoying scroll and other supposedly ‘vital’ information (logo, time, stock quotes, terror alert status, etc…) they cram into that portion of the screen. Being a news/political junkie, my TV is tuned to Fox News, CNN or MSNBC about 90 percent of the time, so it works out well.” – more invaluable advice from readers on the Letters Page. Plus: a glowing BBC miniseries on the Rosenbergs and the pan-Pacific penis festival. No Harvard professors allowed.

THE ABYSSINIA PRECEDENT: A wonderful piece by my old editor, Bill Deedes, on how the Western powers, stymied by – yes! – France, bungled Mussolini’s conquest of Abyssinia. Deedes was alive and kicking as a journalist at the time and remembers it all vividly. Money quote:

The crisis in 1935 came closest to where we are now after October 4, when Mussolini launched his attack on Abyssinia. Britain’s eagerness to set in motion the machinery of the League against Italy ran into immediate difficulties with France. Pierre Laval, the French foreign minister, was unwilling to antagonise Mussolini. The sticking point was the likelihood of action by the League, involving sanctions strong enough to thwart Mussolini, precipitating war. Though never a strong believer in the principle of sanctions, Eden believed that on this occasion they would be effective. He wanted the League to apply sanctions – including oil sanctions – to bring Mussolini to the negotiating table. Without the co-operation of France, this became a farce. When I passed through the Suez Canal in 1935 en route for Abyssinia, Mussolini’s ships were drawing all the oil they wanted. Financial backing for Italy, I was told, came from the Banque de France. When I came back a few months later, the same conditions prevailed.

Appeasing Mussolini and Hitler wasn’t in France’s long-term interests then either. Plus ca change …

POSEUR ALERT: “Quoting passionately from the Irish Poet, W.B Yeats, President Mbeki insisted that NAM must ensure that the ‘centre must hold and position itself in word and deed as the enemies of anarchy.’ The President urged NAM to act to neutralise the deadly impact of the tide hungry for human blood, which seeks to celebrate a victory defined as the prevalence of an ephemereal [sic] peace whose parent is the fear of death. The usage of the word ‘tide’ was quite ephemeral at this Summit in the sense that, a week ago, President Mbeki had shaped his State of the Nation Address on the 14th February 2003 on the theme, the ‘tide has turned.’ The conscious correlation between the State of the Nation Address of President Mbeki on Valentine’s Day and the concluding statement in his opening speech at NAM, calling for NAM to ‘express the message of dialogue, peace and a better life for all human beings,’ was indicative of consistency in both South Africa’s domestic policies and its foreign policy in its quest for a better life for all human beings.” – the metaphors of president Thabo Mbeki.

“At the end of the 3rd quarter in the “Is the NYT biased bowl?”, let’s review some relevant stats:

Score: Sullivan, Kaus et al: 52, NYT: 3
1st downs: Sullivan, et al: 28, NYT: 1
Passing Yards: Sullivan, et al: 320, NYT: 15
Rushing Yards: Sullivan, et al: 225, NYT: -5

So yes, while it may be true that the 4th quarter belongs to you, Mr. Raines, the rest of the world has turned the game off. It’s over.”

Now they want to cut off a snow-woman’s boobies!

Harvard’s still buzzing about the snow-penis, erected and then deflated last week, with the victim-feminists in full hue and cry. My favorite you-cant’-make-this-up quote is as follows:

Women’s Studies Lecturer Diane L. Rosenfeld, who teaches Women, Violence and the Law this semester, said that the implications of the snow phallus go beyond the legitimacy of the statue’s presence. “The ice sculpture was erected in a public space, one that should be free from menacing reminders of women’s sexual vulnerability,” Rosenfeld wrote in an e-mail yesterday. She said the snow penis follows a long line of public phallic symbols, including the Washington Monument and missiles.

A simple question: how do you make a missile that looks like a vagina?

It’s the critics of the New York Times’ bias who are the enemies of good journalism, in Raines’ eyes. Here’s the relevant quote:

The most important development of the post-war period among journalists, American journalists, was the acceptance throughout our profession of an ethic that says we report and edit the news for our papers, but we don’t wear the political collar of our owners, or the government, or any political party. It is that legacy we must protect with our diligent stewardship. To do so means we must be aware of the energetic effort that is now underway to convince our readers that we are ideologues. It is an exercise of, in disinformation, of alarming proportions. This attempt to convince the audience of the world’s most ideology free newspapers that they’re being subjected to agenda driven news reflecting a liberal bias. I don’t believe our viewers and readers will be in the long-run misled by those who advocate biased journalism.-But perhaps those of us who work for fair-minded publications and broadcasters have been too passive in pointing out the agendas of those who want to use journalism as a political tool, while aiming an accusing finger at those who practice balanced journalism. I believe as Coach Bryant used to say, ‘The fourth quarter belongs to us.’

Bottom line: he knows criticism of his ideological trashing of the New York Times’ reputation for fairness has had an effect. Did the critics win the first three quarters, Howell? But rather than change, or admit his crusading left-liberalism, he wants to smear the critics. He’s still part of the problem, isn’t he?

Saddam would be truly dumb not to destroy his al Samoud missiles. Although they’re not WMDs, they are illegal under the current sanctions. And the p.r. effect of destroying them would be enormous among the gullible peace-at-any-price Europeans. But it’s the WMDs – especially the unaccounted for anthrax, botulinum, and VX gas – that we need real answers about. And action. Meanwhile, good news about the prospect for democracy after liberation. Paul Wolfowitz – and not some anonymous leaker to the Washington Post – clearly stated yesterday that Iraq is “not going to be handed over to some junior Saddam Hussein. We’re not interested in replacing one dictator with another dictator.” That’s a relief. The proof of that, of course, will be tested in the coming months and years. But I believe Wolfowitz. And trust him.

IRAQ AND IRAN: My friend, Michael Ledeen, has long argued that the theocratic mafia in Tehran is by far the gravest threat in the Middle East. He’s right. No surprise that the mullahs are trying to go nuclear. And no surprise that the people they oppress see the looming liberation of Iraq as a godsend. A rare piece of good reporting from Iran in the Los Angeles Times yesterday captured the effect a successful removal of Saddam could have on its more powerful neighbor:

Some Iranians, particularly the young, say they would actually welcome a U.S. presence in Iraq because it would increase pressure on both their country’s conservative Islamic regime and the fractured reformers who oppose it. The regime’s efforts to portray the U.S. as the “Great Satan” have failed to sway young people, who are a clear majority of Iranians. About 70% of the country’s 70 million people are younger than 30. Young people in particular associate the U.S. with the opportunities and freedoms that Iran, with its sluggish economy and stern moral code, lacks. They believe that better relations with the U.S. would revitalize Iranian life and help the country shed its pariah status.

Then my favorite quote in the story:

“Are they changing their mind?” Goli Afshar, a 23-year-old student, asked as she alternately tightened and loosened her grip on a mug at a cafe on Gandhi Street. “Can they hurry up with Iraq already, so they can get on with attacking us?”

My feelings entirely, Goli. We’ve already dawdled for far too long.

The Times outdid itself yesterday, running a viciously anti-American op-ed by one Regis Debray. It contained every supercilious canard about American crudeness, religiosity, lack of sophistication that the old Marxist European left has now learned to deploy. The slurs were as sickening as they were shallow. But that’s not news. What’s news is that Debray was absurdly identified by the Times as “a former adviser to President Francois Mitterrand of France, editor of Cahiers de Mediologie and the author of the forthcoming ‘The God That Prevailed.'”. I say absurdly because Debray is far better known as an old communist, a supporter of political violence, an unabashed admirer of Fidel Castro, and a guerrilla fighter alongside Che Guevara. His hatred of the United States even led him to defend Milosevic and Serbian genocide in the late 1990s. He’s a Pinter with blood on his hands. Isn’t this relevant information? Did the Times know this and decide to ignore it? Or were they simply clueless and eager to run any specious anti-American doggerel they could get their hands on?
UPDATE: Lileks fisks Debray!

A TRAFFIC SOLUTION: Early reports suggest that London’s new approach to solving traffic jams is a huge success. The British capital recently set up monitors at all the entrance routes into central London. If you want to get into the hub at peak hours, you have to pay a fee. If you haven’t paid the fee, you pay a fine. Cameras record number plates. If you live in the central district, you get 90 percent of the fees reimbursed. The result? A return in central London to the traffic levels of the 1950s. One thing you can always depend on in Britain: everyone is cheap. But what interest me more as a matter of media coverage is that all the praise for this initiative has gone (and rightly so) to Mayor “Red” Ken. But his solution is anything but red. It’s pure market economics to achieve a good environmental result. It’s Friedmanism for a traditionally liberal cause.

That Michael Jackson has had plastic surgery. “In related news, President Chirac said the U.S. had failed to show convincing proof that Jennifer Lopez has a big ass.”

BAGHDAD BROADCASTING CORPORATION WATCH: A special radio World Service arts program has been exploring the question of whether American culture, in the words of one French critic, “is a non-culture, a non-civilisation, just a way of life.” A radio comedy show gets its anti-French jokes edited out by BBC honchos. (Sample: “What do you call a Frenchman advancing on Baghdad? A salesman.”) Meanwhile, a viewer backlash is mercifully under way. Anger at anti-U.S. spin and bias has provoked “one of the largest reactions from viewers ever recorded.”

MRS MUGABE GOES SHOPPING: In Paris. Where else is the wife of an African dictator supposed to buy the essentials? With two Mercedes’ full of bodyguards to help her carry the shopping bags.

“In Binghamton, N.Y., Supreme Court Justice Andrew J. McNaught granted a divorce to Catherine Koppe from Lillian Beaumont on the ground that, since the partners were both female, the marriage was void. In March 1927, wearing a clown costume, a man’s wig and a van dyke beard, Lillian (“William”) Beaumont appeared with Catherine Koppe before the Rev. Francis T. Cooke, saying they had just come from a masquerade, wanted to be married. He obliged.” – from Time magazine, October 24, 1932. You see? This is hardly a new demand. For other examples of same-sex marriages throughout history, check out my anthology.

CLIP-CLOP: Here I come, riding into Armageddon. For the record, if I ever ride into the apocalypse, I’d rather just prance around and have a serf banging coconut shells behind me.

FREUDIAN SLIP: “We do not yet have, or, if we do, we have not yet identified the “X” article on the real nature of the threat which became manifest on September 11 2000.” – Martin Woollacott, in a piece debunking the terrorist threat in the Guardian. I know it’s a truism that Europeans weren’t as affected by 9/11 as Americans were – and that this gap in perception has an awful lot to do with our current gulf of understanding. But wouldn’t it be nice if they could get the frigging date right? It’s only a year and a half ago.

“No, the movie is set in Texas, which in a good year all by itself carries out half the executions in America. Death Row in Texas is like the Roach Motel: Roach checks in, doesn’t check out. When George W. Bush was Texas governor, he claimed to carefully consider each and every execution, although a study of his office calendar shows he budgeted 15 minutes per condemned man (we cannot guess how many of these minutes were devoted to pouring himself a cup of coffee before settling down to the job). Still, when you’re killing someone every other week and there’s an average of 400 more waiting their turn, you have to move right along.” – Roger Ebert, ostensibly reviewing a movie but interpolating his customary anti-Bush polemic while he’s about it.

OUTTA HERE: I guess I have to admit defeat and let you know I’m heading back to DC this week. I just couldn’t hack the isolation at the end of the Cape in February any more. I finished the essay I was trying to write, but completely failed to get any construction work done on my little wharf apartment. Getting everything organized – contractors, permits, plans, weather – eventually got beyond me, and now there’s not enough time to get all the work done before summer. So I’m out of here. I have mixed feelings. Taking time out of your usual context, forcing yourself into solitude, getting more in touch with the elements, even when they’re truly bleak, as with this brutal winter, is something I’d recommend to anyone. Saturday night, I took the beagle for a post-bar stroll on the water’s edge. It was an amazing vista. Somehow, vast blocks of ice had come loose from various dunes and lakes on the edge of Cape Cod bay, and suddenly a huge flotilla of floating ice crammed the harbor. It looked like the Antarctic, with boulders of white not only obscuring the dark, frigid water altogether, but dumped randomly on the beach like a crowd of rugged ice-statues. The tide was rising as we walked across the scene, but it was extremely quiet and the water completely stable – so stable that the ice-flow seemed to shrug its way silently toward the snow-covered dune grass. You just don’t get to experience that kind of scene in a big city, after a Jagermeister too many. But, at the end of two months of icy solitude, I decided to take that amazing sight as a farewell message. Besides, I’d gotten a bad case of boyfriend withdrawal; and an even worse case of frozen, er, behind. I realize that for all my general misanthropy, I actually miss people. Perhaps a week back in the capital will cure me of that.