Obscenity

Obscene.

Three prisoners in our national oubliette-manqué hanged themselves:

Military officials were not releasing the names of the detainees, but said two were Saudi Arabian nationals and one was a Yemeni national. [Rear Admiral Harry] Harris described them as having close ties to terrorist organizations in the Middle East and said their suicides were "not an act of desperation but an act of asymmetric warfare against us."

We're now so fully terrified of the shadow of our national nemesis that an act of total surrender by our purported enemies must be repackaged as an attack. So terrified that the spokesmen of empire specifically reject the argument for desperation and embrace the super-villain theory, that even the prisoner's death by his own hand is a blow to the body of state. Où alliez-vous, Michel Foucault ?

I don't have any particular sociological expertise, but I do spend a lot of time in my neighborhood bars, which are treasures of Pittsburgh, each and every one of them. I can happily report that most of Ordinary America isn't very worried about our civilizational doom. The Spenglerian dreams of our court intelligentsia and the half-assed millenarianism George Dubya, Marionette to the Stars, just haven't infected the factory floor and the call center cubicle. The spasms that followed September 11, 2001 were more a reaction to an image than to an event, in part because even as our governors mimed the rituals of national healing, the indicated in plain language and action that we must, like them, accept the self-created mantle of Last Bastion of Civilization, as Europe sunk into decadence and the rest of the world cowered before the Muslim hordes. What a preposterous time it's been.

But now it's wearing thin, and Americans, who've never been so comfortable with the imperial dreams of their superiors, at least not when they have a little time to chew on the thought, increasingly turn their anxieties back to mundanities: health insurance, retirement, savings or debt . . . Bref, the same insoluble problems that have afflicted every civilization ever. No doubt there's still a balance of terror in the bank, but the account is nearer and nearer to overdrawn. I'm not sure what that means, if it's good or bad, but there it is.

Preservation

Via Crooks and Liars, this interview with Michael Berg. Here is the inaccurate transcript.

It’s inaccurate because it leaves out the most important thing that Michael Berg said. It leaves it out because his voice becomes a little unclear and no one at CNN knew what the hell he was talking about. Certainly Soledad O’Brien didn’t. The transcript reads:

O'BRIEN: No, no. And we have spoken before, and I'm well aware of that. But at some point, one would think, is there a moment when you say, 'I'm glad he's dead, the man who killed my son'?

BERG: No. How can a human being be glad that another human being is dead?

O'BRIEN: There have been family members who have weighed in, victims, who've said that they don't think he's a martyr in heaven, that they think, frankly, he went straight to hell ...

Ignore for a moment—if you can!—O’Brien’s rather juvenile theology as well as her inexactitude: What family members? Family of whom? Weighed in where?

Here’s what Michael Berg really said:

BERG: No. How can a human being be glad that another human being is dead? Any man’s death diminishes me. That’s what John Donne said, and I believe those words.

I don’t imagine that Soledad O’Brien knows who John Donne is. I don’t imagine that she’s ever read the Meditations. I imagine that she’s got some obscure memory of the quotations about bells tolling for thee and no man being an island, though without any particular knowledge of their provenance.

You can read all of Meditation XVII here. Michael Berg was noting the famous sentiment that opens the second paragraph of the Meditation:

No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were: any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee.

In the first half of the Meditation, Donne has said that every man is a chapter, and death is his translation by God, and only upon translation “His hand shall bind up all our scattered leaves again for that library where every book shall lie open to one another.”

Donne says that sickness, infirmity, and affliction should bind us in the knowledge that we’re all of one body, that each human body is equally frail, and whether by age or illness or other means, each body will break away from the continent and dissolve into the sea.

Any man’s death diminishes me.

Donne wrote:

Neither can we call this a begging of misery, or a borrowing of misery, as though we were not miserable enough of ourselves, but must fetch in more from the next house, in taking upon us the misery of our neighbours. Truly it were an excusable covetousness if we did, for affliction is a treasure, and scarce any man hath enough of it. No man hath affliction enough that is not matured and ripened by and made fit for God by that affliction. If a man carry treasure in bullion, or in a wedge of gold, and have none coined into current money, his treasure will not defray him as he travels. Tribulation is treasure in the nature of it, but it is not current money in the use of it, except we get nearer and nearer our home, heaven, by it. Another man may be sick too, and sick to death, and this affliction may lie in his bowels, as gold in a mine, and be of no use to him; but this bell, that tells me of his affliction, digs out and applies that gold to me: if by this consideration of another's danger I take mine own into contemplation, and so secure myself, by making my recourse to my God, who is our only security.

If Soledad O’Brien knew anything about the cultural heritage of the West, anything about its literature, anything about its greatest religious poet, perhaps its greatest poet, would she trample the rosebushes so readily on her way to pronouncing that some “family members,” “victims,” have “weighed in” on Abu Musab al-Zarqawi’s immediate descent into hell?

This is why I have to laugh when people talk about conservativism, when people say that we’re becoming a more conservative country, when people say that the media follows conservative talking points or engages in favoritism or bias toward conservative positions. What can it possibly mean? Such conservativism shows no particular interest in conserving anything. What we call “conservative” in this country is just common, low-class nativism. It seeks to preserve none of the eloquence and humanity and artistry of our past, even as it blathers about too many brown authors taught in high-school English or too much “relativism” or “post-modernism” in university humanities courses.

I am a conservative. I say every native English-speaker in the world should know that Donne nearly by heart, and should understand the moral paradox it evinces: that any man’s death diminishes me, and yet it exalts me also.

Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which yet thy pictures be,
Much pleasure, then from thee much more, must low
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones and soul's delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings and desperate men
And dost with poison, war and sickness dwell,
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then ?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

There is no such thing as humanitarian intervention.

Dear Everyone Who Says "We need to do something about Darfur,"

Those who don't know history, etc.

Sincerely,
IOZ

Theater!

Of the innumerable dull weapons in the rhetorical aresenal of Democrats, liberals, progressives, and other self-described variations on this nation's Not-Republicans, the familiar charge--Why is Osama bin Laden still [alive/at large]?--is one of the dullest, and certainly the most plaintively, obnoxiously irrelevant, however much mileage it may or may not get in those Democratic environs where even educated, urban, sophisticated, Cosmopolitan-Americans subscribe to the belief that there is, at the end of the day, a villain in our comic book. This adolescent imagination assumes the so-called Global War on Terror as a real-life Frank Herbert novel, with some sort of superman (however much derided) insurgent holed up in a desert cave, directing his fanatical followers to final victory against our powerful-but-decadent imperium.

And, of course, the constant harping on juvenile Great Man theories makes it impossible to scoff at the meaningless demise of Abu Musab al-Zarqawi. If, after all, the capture or failure thereto of bin Laden is a mark of real success or failure; if dogged pursuit or lack thereof is a mark of moral and military seriousness, or its lack, in our national leaders; then aren't we obligated to make and accept the same case against whatever other nominal terrorist "masterminds" we unearth in whatever other dusty corners of this not-so-green earth we desire to invade?

Luckily, I'm under no such compunctions, having long held that Osama bin Laden is a fraud, as is the "search for Osama," and having held an identical opinion about this al-Zarqawi character, whose name is likewise appended to any number of disparate acts in order to convey Seriousness. So, for my more left-leaning friends, who can't say it themselves without sounding like hypocrites or fools, I offer, free of charge: Abu Musab al-Zarqawi is a fraud, and his death is a fraud, and none of it will make a goddamn bit of difference.

The linked Post article, and likewise this Times piece, show American and Iraqi officialdom offering the same predictable caveat that the death, while "significant," "major," "crucial," and "watershed," will not, in fact, have any ameliorating effect on the insurgency, nor reduce its operational capacities in any way. One almost wonders why we bothered to announce this "success," since it removes so potent a bogeyman from the closets of Pentagon Spokespeople everywhere. As further free advice, the trumpeting of the killing of Zarqawi as the biggest victory since the capture of Saddam Hussein is a less-than-flattering comparison, given the post-capture buffonery surrounding him--the O.J. Simpson show trial, the harangues, the intimidated attorneys and witnesses. Farce is a poor metric of success.

In the same articles, the Iraqi government is lauded for finally naming its interior and defense ministers. It's generally unclear whether it's the reporters, the American government, or some other ephemeral cadre of opinionists offering these plaudits. Probably some combination. Of course, the Iraqi police are inoperative, as is the military. They're riddled with infiltrators, insurgent sympathizers, and, more broadly, old-fashioned ethno-tribal segregation and aggression. Reporters who spend a lot of time covering governments internalize belief in the value of these "symbolic" moments. The Process burns symbols like an engine burns gas. But all these symbols are just set-pieces , and doomed not to last. The stage is burning. The fire curtain won't drop. A sniper on the balcony has killed all the actors. The audience screams. They flee.

Pussies.

Is it any wonder that American universities are increasingly irrelevant to the cultural and intellectul life (such as it is) of the nation? Juan Cole is an academic, yes, and often speaks the language of an academic. But Juan Cole is also a man and a citizen who actually engages in the life of the nation and the world. A more accurate assessment than his admirers or detractors provided for the linked article wouldn't have noted that Cole is "controversial," but that he's relevant.

“The issue is complicated,” according to one Jewish official at the University of Michigan who asked not to be named, “because Cole is seen as a scholar who does not intimidate students in class with his Mideast views, but has an appalling Web site, highly critical of Israel. So what are the boundaries of outside behavior affecting academic decisions?”

Where have you gone, Allan Bloom? Were that there were more professors who did intimidate the brats . . .

Jesus - Live in Concert

I was all set to get past the sixth day of the sixth month of the sixth year of the new millennium with a minimum of eschatological tomfoolery, by which I mean that I spent the day, as usual, considering that the world is going to hell in a hand-basket, but not that hell, and certainly not His hand-basket.

Then I got a call from the Progressive Christians.

By which I mean that I got a call from a Progressive Christian attached to a Progressive Christian organization of some kind looking to put together a Progressive Christian confab of some sort. In Pittsburgh. Could I help them find a venue? Could I give them some guidance?

Sure, I say. Happy to. What sort of programming is planned?

Don’t know.

Okay. Well, how many people are you expecting?

Don’t know.

Well, how many would you like?

Not sure.

Well what do you know? Not much.

To be fair, this isn’t all that unusual. Plenty of would-be concert promoters call theaters to ask, “How much does it cost to have a show there,” as if putting up a live production is the equivalent of buying a bag of chips or renting a DVD. And that’s fine. 90% are scared off when the expense estimates—formatted intentionally to be a little obscure, a little overcomplicated—arrive in the fax or the inbox. The rest of the novices dive in, and maybe they make a few bucks.

But this guy isn’t looking to make money; he’s looking to make progress. Christian Progress. (And let’s hope that these Christian Progressives aren’t looking to do to Progress what the Christian Scientists did to Science.)

So I give him the basic rundown on available venues, rate structures, labor costs, leasing and contracting procedures.

Then he asks me if it’s a problem that the show’s political.

I tell him that political content isn’t a problem, but explicit endorsement of parties and candidates are. He says, Well, we’re a Progressive Christian organization.

Well, what does that mean?

Silence.

Then he says, Well, it means that we’re Christians and we have . . . progressive ideas. Like, gay people. We support them. Jesus didn’t say anything about gay people, you know. And other stuff. Progressive stuff. Christianity, he tells me, has been “defined” by other parties as something that it’s not.

So you’re going to teach people about the true kind of Christianity, I say.

Yeah, he tells me, But not, like, exclusive. That’s what they do. They try to say there’s only one way to believe, and if you don’t follow that, then you’re damned.

You don’t believe in hell? I ask.

No, I do. We do.

But you don’t believe that people go for believing wrong, I say.

Right, he says, People go for stuff like murder, you know.

Sure, I say.

Of all the ridiculous quackery possessing the minds of well-meaning but tenderhearted American liberals, this notion of ancient monotheism as a fountainhead of inclusiveness may be the most quacked of all. It’s now an article of faith, you’ll pardon the expression, among a significant portion of Democrats (and various and sundry liberals) that “religion” needs to be “reclaimed” from its right-wing interlocutors, who speak of a God who hovers over us all, making a list like Santa, ready to clap the blackboard erasers of judgment in our faces like a disapproving nun should we step out of line. The argument goes something like this: Jesus said some real liberal shit in the Beatitudes, so let’s fuck all that Paulite crap and get back to alms for the poor.

Aside from my general disdain for magical explanations, I find the affection of righteous piety more than a little annoying. What these so-called Progressive Christians seek is a religious exemption for a political ideology. In other words, they seek the same thing that the right-wing Christians whose perversions they claim to despise seek: to place their social policy beyond the realm of criticism by invoking their made-up deity. Jesus said it, ergo it must be right.

At least no one’s calling it a Religion of Peace just yet. It seems to me that that’s the point at which a faith has truly jumped the fucking shark.

Gays: The New Hymietown

In case you hadn’t noticed.

Just take a look at the photo. That’s the incongruous image of a buncha bruthas denouncing a buncha fags. Apparently, it’s not the new miscegenation.

Well, whites always liked James Baldwin better than blacks did anyway.

It's Good To Be the Pope

Islamists have overrun Mogadishu.

In related news, "The Vatican issued a sweeping condemnation Tuesday of contraception, abortion, in-vitro fertilization and same-sex marriage, declaring that the traditional family has never been so threatened as in today's world."

I particularly like the line: "The Vatican insists sexual abstinence is the only sure way to fight AIDS."

In the same manner, presumably, that starving is the only sure way to prevent food botulism.

I'm not certain why anyone in the world listens to this bunch of Italian pagans in any event. If the One True Church™ were two millennia younger, this Cardinal Alfonso Lopez Trujillo fellow would be bouncing around Oprah's soundstage like a horny Tigger, and Brooke Shields would be writing angry op-eds about his cultish disdain for pill-popping . . .

Allahu Akbar

The heavily armed militias driving them back are allied with the Islamic courts that have grown in influence throughout Somalia in recent years, filling a void left by the lack of a central government since 1991. The courts are made up of a loose coalition of religious leaders who have put forward Islam, the predominant religion in Somalia, as the way out of the country's long decline into anarchy.

On Monday, at least, the capital appeared to be calm, after hundreds of civilian deaths there in recent months.

The New York Times

The militia's advance unified battle-scarred Mogadishu for the first time in 15 years of anarchy that followed the collapse of national government.

The Washington Post (via AP)

For almost two decades, the United States, in pursuit of a vaguely anti-Islamic agenda predicated on a set of vague cultural anxieties about terrorism, has sent briefcases full of cash money to a wide variety of mad-dog warlords in Somalia, who may enjoy raping women with machetes, but, hey, at least they ain't no Mahometans.

It appears that Islamic militias enjoy some degree of popular support in Somalia, certainly more so than their Christo-animist, gun-running butcher adversaries ever managed to acquire. You should be reminded of Hamas' recent political successes in Palestine. Well why shouldn't they? Say what you will about Sharia, but it's still better to be killed for a bad reason than for no reason at all, isn't it?