We sleekit, cow'rin, and tim'rous beasties

Post-docs, academics, students and anyone who has ever had to speak in public should read this great piece by Rachel Brem or perhaps not because the identification factor is so very high that you may find yourself collapsing against the desk in hypoglycemic horror or longing for a hotel breakfast. And you don't have to know a thing about mouse genetics in order to appreciate it.

If you like mouse genetics though, you may well be interested in this update on the ongoing intellectual property imbrolgio over the transgenic mouse. This would be a perfect place to discuss the pros and cons of intellectual property if only I understood them. But I don't. Alex Tabarrok does however, so perhaps you should go see what he has to say on the topic.

How's your stomach feeling? Strong? Ready for grossness? Then click on over to the Weekly Standard site and read what Matt Labash has to say about Hugh Hefner. He think's he's a liberator, but actually he's a nutcase. Hugh, not Matt.

Here are some revelations you probably didn't need to know.

Hugh is Sensitive: "Hefner is a gentle lover, Zehme [Hugh's ghostwriter] tells us, presumably not from personal experience, though one can't be sure with sentences like: 'Feelings intensified, as they are wont to, and walls changed to portals, as his gentleness would impress each woman he ever knew.' How Hefner had a chance to survey each woman, when he was pinned at the bottom of a Sealy Posturepedic dogpile, Zehme doesn't specify."

Hugh is Really Kind of Nuts: "Blessed with a white-trash palate (he loves Wonder Bread, but only fresh from an unopened pack), Hefner still manages to be so fussy that his round-the-clock kitchen staff keeps a meticulous log in the butler's pantry, along with photographs, detailing his meal preparations right down to the vegetable arrangements and placement of the salt and pepper shaker on his bed tray...A fried chicken fiend (he's declared himself 'pretty horny for some fried chicken'),...He requires three drumsticks per meal, and the drumsticks, when ordered from the butcher, must weigh 2.8 to 3 ounces, while thighs should weigh 3.5 to 4 ounces and breasts should be 22 to 25 ounces."


Post-Coital Breakfast Recommendations: "After a good, clean mansion orgy, which Zehme somehow knows is 'always happily consensual, full of good cheer and humor, lacking inhibition and later regret,' Hefner also likes to chow. Even in the middle of the night, his requisite post-coital meal (the book actually contains a photo of it) is 'eggs, sunny side up, with bacon, crisp. Hash brown potatoes. Buttered toast, grape jelly, a cold glass of milk, and applesauce. Followed by French toast. All served on a bed tray.' Admonishing Hefner to 'get a room"'would never be appropriate, since he logs more rack-time than '70s-era Brian Wilson. 'Get a table at Denny's,' would be more like it."

Quotable End: "Perhaps Hefner really has changed America. If so, someone should hold his nose in it."

My goodness, the world is alive with bloggable goodness. As the Style Editor is at a National Academy of Sciences conference, and the Doc is loading a moving van full of Boston Beans, salted cod and rum for his trip to the Land of Lutherans, that puts the burden of blogging on my shoulders.

So here's an item that the Syle Editor will find very interesting. She often complains bitterly that people are starting to use the word "come over to a barbecue" when they mean "come over for a grill in my backyard." Thanks to an article in the Philadelphia Inquirer, we now have a succinct definition that proves her completely in the right:

Low, indirect heat for long, slow cooking is the key difference between barbecue and grilling. Grilling occurs directly over the heat source, and it's relatively quick because the cooking temperature is high. Barbecue is low and slow, cooking at a temperature hovering just under 212 degrees.

"Water boils at 212 degrees. Because all living things are comprised mostly of water, the water in meats will boil, too. When it does, it causes an explosion of the cell walls and that causes toughness," Hofman explained.

Tenderness and flavor are the chief components of prize-winning barbecue as judged in contests held all over the country.

There you have it. Grilling and barbecuing aren't synonyms, the Physics Says So.

Don't mess with the physics, you damn kids.

It must be late July. The Braves just pushed by the Phillies into first place.

Let baseball misery now begin...

As the Act of Contrition notes, "for what I have done and what I have failed to do" -- I am quite contrite for not blogging as of late (a serious sin of omission), shamed by my fellow poster (who also operates a fine establishment over at zambone.com).
 
We are moving to Indiana in (dare I think it) two weeks, to Valparaiso, that thumping heart of Lutheranism in the thumping heartland of America, while we remain a Roman Catholic island amidst it all.  I am glad to see that Hoosiers are pleased with their state, opting to stay rather than move from the "Crossroads of America."
 
Alexander Hamilton, "the greatest American politician never to be president?"  An insightful and inciting remark, no?  Of course it kicks into the shadows a whole host of bright lights, like Henry Clay, John C. Calhoun, Daniel Webster, James G. Blaine, among others.  I probably agree, but...
 
Should the Brits be celebrating Bastille Day?  I say fly the White Flag.
 
Proper celebration of William Blake, a man of vision and visions, and (may my heart not skip a beat) do I read this correctly that the British Empire is no longer a dirty word?
 
And let this be a warning to you: don't smoke in portable toilets.  Lots of gas there.

The Lobster Quadrille

Your correspondent has been roving about the British Virgin Islands of late, which is why she has been even more silent than usual on this space, and while one should definitely go to the BVI for some gorgeous scenery, superlative snorkeling, and easy but enjoyable sailing, what one does not go for is the food. The cheap drinks perhaps, although caveat emptor as to that because I had a rum punch unworthy of the name at a well known bar down there, but not the food. (A maximum respect shoutout though to the chicken roti at Ali Baba's on Jost Van Dyke and to their pina coladas as well, rated #1 in both alcoholic and virgin forms by our experienced crew.) I tried for instance what passes for a lobster down there, and I can confidently state that New England has nothing to fear. You can have the spiny lobster, Panulirus argus , give me the sweet briny succulence of Homarus americanus.

After this experience then, I look forward more eagerly than usual to reading at the earliest opportunity what sounds like a spiffy little book The Secret Life of Lobsters by Trevor Corson, which sounds to be chockful of fascinating information guaranteed to stupefy any unwelcome interlocutor at a social occasion. (A welcome interlocutor will of course be fascinated by all this interesting information.)

Mercy, Maude

I just noticed this scary piece on the New Criterion's excellent blog, Armavirumque. (The original is from Opinion Journal)

We're Christians, relatively speaking

About 88% of American teenagers identify themselves as Christian. But very few of them are, in fact, Christian. That isn't merely to say that they stray from time to time from the path. It is something more worrisome--by and large they don't even preach what they ought to practice. They do not hold the beliefs that are prerequisites of Christianity--and here is the proof.
". . . slightly more than half of all U.S. teens also believe that Jesus committed sins while he was on earth. About 60% agree that enough good works will earn them a place in heaven, in part reflecting a Catholic view, but also flouting Protestantism's central theme of salvation only by grace. About two-thirds say that Satan is just a symbol of evil, not really a living being. Only 6% of all teens believe that there are moral absolutes--and, most troubling to evangelical leaders, only 9% of self-described born-again teens believe that moral truth is absolute."

Remember, we are talking here about "believers" popularly thought to be "fundamentalist," rigid, intolerant, and so on! Has relativism so thoroughly permeated the culture that even their (as we are told) hermetically sealed minds cannot keep it out?

Whoa. I've never been a fan of Jesus, the really cool dude, school of "Christian" "thought". In fact I will go so far as to describe myself as an implacable enemy, as it is directly contrary to Biblical teaching. If all Jesus is is a really cool dude, I want nothing to do with him. I don't need a cool dude; I need a Savior. (Incidentally, children, St. Paul takes a similar view. You can find it in 1 Corinthians 15:12-20. The majority of you who don't believe in the bodily resurrection though may find v. 21 a bit of a shock, so brace yourselves.) But I had, apparently foolishly, thought this element was relatively minor, but if more that 50% of them think Jesus sinned while on earth, Christianity in US has a serious problem.

Logic and basic literacy face severe challenges as well, because according to the original piece, 60% believe the Bible is absolutely correct in all its teachings, and yet nowhere does the Bible teach that Jesus sinned. Pay attention, kids: Jesus wept, not sinned.

Been off for a bit, teaching and getting ready for the big move to the Midwest.

MCJ, in its short and direct way, explaining why the Anglican\Episcopal Church remains a very derailed faith, one of "moral, intellectual, Scriptural and spiritual bankruptcy."

Free Jeeves. Here, here.

We also do not approve of men with ponytails. To steal a thought from Eliot, for once stop trying to be eccentric, and hop the terribly exciting, thrilling ride that is being centric. We recommend it with conviction.

Puff this. A Galway pub defies the Irish national smoking ban and allows its patrons to light up: Galway-based Fibber McGee's decided to flout the law after suffering a 60% drop in sales since the ban was introduced in March.

Its owners are undeterred by warnings that they could lose their licence.

"We're going out of business. We might as well go out with a puff of smoke," said co-owner Ciaran Levanzin.

Here's a good headline: Sculptures mistaken for dead bodies

And on this day in history:

John D. Rockefeller, oil tycoon and world's richest man, was born in 1839.
Alec Waugh (brother of Evelyn) was born in 1898.
And William Jennings Bryan delivered his famous (or infamous, if you are a goldbug) "Cross of Gold" speech at the 1896 Democratic National Convention: You come to us and tell us that the great cities are in favor of the gold standard; we reply that the great cities rest upon our broad and fertile prairies. Burn down your cities and leave our farms, and your cities will spring up again as if by magic; but destroy our farms and the grass will grow in the streets of every city in the country ... If they dare to come out in the open field and defend the gold standard as a good thing, we will fight them to the uttermost. Having behind us the producing masses of this nation and the world, supported by the commercial interests, the laboring interests and the toilers everywhere, we will answer their demand for a gold standard by saying to them: You shall not press down upon the brow of labor this crown of thorns, you shall not crucify mankind upon a cross of gold.

As for Marty's Martin Luther: I am going to have to read the book. As Woodward describes it, it is a graceful synthesis of scholarship since the mid-1960's. I am most interested in how Marty as a (liberal) Lutheran deals with Dr. Luther's continuing presence within his own ecclesiastical body. These days, Luther is more often a skeleton at the feast then the convivial fellow he was while alive...at least in Marty's brand of Lutheranism.

At the same time, Luther is not as welcome as you might think among the conservative Lutherans. They take their nourishment, whether they know it or not, from the Lutheran scholastic theologians of the 17th century. Luther is for them someone to be affirmed, to be held up as a badge of honor, but not necessarily to be read.

Where do I fit in on this? Well, I am pretty unabashed in my admiration for Luther, which increases the more I read him. The reason so many are abashed is because of his profound honesty. Erasmus, much more popular amongst academics, was much more given to deviousness and intellectual subterfuge. Which is perhaps why he is more popular among academics. If you want to live the spiritual and intellectual life with your chin up, eyes front, and heart on your sleeve, then you can do much worse than choosing Luther as your exemplar.

I await with mild interest the ex cathedra, ex polka response of Bunnie Diehl to all this.

I don't believe we have commented upon the National Trust for Historic Preservation's list of the 11 most endangered historic sites in the United States. The Trust has really gotten ambitious of late. They used to list houses or museums or train stations. While they still do that, they have gotten an inclination towards gigantism, putting a district of Colorado, western ghost towns or pbulic schools of the 19th century on their list. This year they have included...the State of Vermont.

Well, that makes you sit up and take notice, let me tell you. Given the fascination we have for the question of Killington Secession, for Calvin Coolidge, for the Dying Breed of Yankees...why can't we think of a way to save Vermont? I am afraid that it would have to begin with a few internment camps being set up in the Adirondacks. Desperate times deserve desperate measures, don't you know.

Naturally they direct their fury at Walmart and the "Big Box Stores". Me, I think Ben and Jerry are to blame.

(Aghast exhale.) Given that I am in the process of writing my dissertation, let me register a hearty dose of outrage along with the Doc's at that intellectual pervert and thief. In such a situation, I am sure that I would be physically ill. Really. So much work, pride, thought, ardor...taken.

For academics and writers, this is a horrifying tale of deceit: a professor finds another prof who plagiarized her entire dissertation. In the end, the other prof was stripped of the Ph.D. and fired. There are few more disappointing moments than finding a student who lazily copies work (usually from the net, usually a bad paper); I cannot even imagine if I came upon another dis or book that someone passed off as their own, that was entirely my words and work.

"This hath offended!" Happy Birthday Thomas Cranmer, born this day in 1489.

Fed up with inconsiderate dog owners, one British Council will now paint the poop pink. Why didn't I think of that?

A book review on Martin Marty's new bio of Martin Luther. Perhaps my good Lutheran compatriots have something to say on this?

World's oldest paper boy -- a Welshman, delivering papers since 1933, age 95.

I thought this was an interesting and sad story in Illinois: A Confederate soldier's grave tended by locals, who have searched and cannot find his identity. He apparently died as a prisoner of war while heading north on a train.

Happy Birthday to Me, June 29

So who was born on my birthday? I've always thought it was a less than spectacular group:

George Washington Goethals (1858-1928), chief engineer and later governor of the Panama Canal

William Borah (1865-1940), US Senator from Idaho, prominent Republican Progressive leader

Slim Pickens (1919-1983), cowboy actor

There are assorted other athletes (Harmon Killebrew and Pepper Johnson), actors (Fred Grandy and Gary Busey).

What happened of note on June 29? A lot of bad things, by the looks:

Shakespeare's Globe Theater burned down, the Townshend Act was levied on the American Colonies, the US purchased some Mexican desert property in the Gadsden Purchase (nice Franklin Pierce reference there), and the Second Balkan War began.

Pope Pius XI was pretty busy on June 29, issuing two papal encyclicals, one on the dangers of movies (you tell 'em!), one on "Catholic Action in Italy," and yet another on St. Thomas Aquinas.

It is also the Feast of Sts. Peter and Paul.

Ah, yes, Jerusalem. Written by William Blake, as you probably know. But what you almost certainly didn't know was that the "dark Satanic mills" referred to in the hymn are not the harbingers of industrialized Britain, but Oxford and Cambridge.

All in all it's a rather strange song, what with the reference to a youthful appearance of Jesus in Britain (taken to Glastonbury by his uncle, Joseph of Arimathea, who in the rather sophisticated legend was a tin-trader who made voyages to the west of England for the purposes of swapping commodities with the barbarians). Funny that it should be so popular.

But so it is, and they sing it with gusto on the "Last Night of the Proms", the final concert in a traditional BBC summer classical music series. The English Intelligentsia naturally see it as a terrifically jingoistic occasion, all very embarassing. Naturally it is instead very polite and sweet. The week after September 11th the BBD orchestra did not play Jerusalem as part of their traditional closer, which seemed rather strange to me. Hadn't they read the bloody thing? Seemed like that was the best of all times to sing it once more, with feeling.

Some good news from the North, where things are tied up once again despite some dreadful Canuck Tory goofs.

So I am either not a jinx, or I am being toyed with by a Higher Power. Hmmmm.

Up for some British imperial music? Who isn't? A nice collection of these hymns and songs here. I especially recommend Jerusalem, always a favorite, which is also apparently regarded by most Englishmen as their national anthem. Darn good choice.

In commemoration of these Canadian holidays, read Mark Steyn ("Ask a Washed-Up Canadian!") on St. Jean Baptiste Day.

O Canada

The United States has but one day of national celebration, but our neighbors to the North have twelve. Yes indeed "In the twelve days leading up to Canada Day, all Canadians are encouraged to celebrate their pride in their country by participating in "Celebrate Canada!" activities. From June 21, National Aboriginal Day, through Saint-Jean Baptiste Day on June 24, and culminating with Canada Day, you and your family may take part in a myriad of events and activities organized in your community." (Doubtless the election is just one of those organized activities designed to "Celebrate Canada!")

All this national pride and yet Canada is primarily represented in e-cards for this day as either a bucktoothed beaver, a moose, a ridiculous polar bear, an animated maple leaf, or a goofy mountie, whereas for the e-cards for our one day of national celebration, Glorious Fourth, the US is generally represented by the flag, an eagle or the Statue of Liberty.

Hmmm.

A Voice Crying in the Wilderness

Today is also the Feast of St. John the Baptist, or as they would put it in Francophone countries where this day used to have particular importance, Clovis having cleverly aligned the birthday of John the Baptist with the summer solstice, La Fete de la St. Jean Baptiste. Now alas the feast of God's angry young man is just a secular nationalist day for French Canadians. Somehow I don't think acerbic and devoted St. John would be flattered.

On the liturgical cooking front though it is an ideal time to cook up the last of those cicadas you may have sitting in your freezer, unless you have access to some fresh caught locusts. Some scholars do argue that the locust referred to in the Bible is not the hippity-hoppity creature but rather the pod of the locust tree, carob as it were. Disappointing as this thought is, do feel free to cling to this interpretation if entomophagy is not your thing. Wild honey however is de rigueur.

However you mark the day though do give the last embodiment of the Law his due, for fond though I am of him, he makes me most grateful for the embodiment of Grace.

The Shakespeare conspiracy theorists are at it again, this time having birthday celebrations for the "real" Shakespeare.

Bob Dylan received an honorary degree from St. Andrews University in Scotland. That thumping you hear is Russell Kirk turning over in his grave.

And today is the anniversary of the Battle of Bannockburn, where in 1314, the Scots routed the English forces under Edward II and maintained Scottish independence.

Oh my heavens. Having just read the magnificent Christopher Hitchens' review of Michael Moore's film, I am nearly out of breath and weeping. He does have some rock-ribbed Mencken moments, no?

To describe this film as dishonest and demagogic would almost be to promote those terms to the level of respectability. To describe this film as a piece of crap would be to run the risk of a discourse that would never again rise above the excremental. To describe it as an exercise in facile crowd-pleasing would be too obvious. Fahrenheit 9/11 is a sinister exercise in moral frivolity, crudely disguised as an exercise in seriousness. It is also a spectacle of abject political cowardice masking itself as a demonstration of "dissenting" bravery.

To use language this well (sigh).

Yet Moore is a silly and shady man who does not recognize courage of any sort even when he sees it because he cannot summon it in himself. To him, easy applause, in front of credulous audiences, is everything.

An insecure buffoon seeking out applause. Nothing more.

However, I think we can agree that the film is so flat-out phony that "fact-checking" is beside the point. And as for the scary lawyers—get a life, or maybe see me in court. But I offer this, to Moore and to his rapid response rabble. Any time, Michael my boy. Let's redo Telluride. Any show. Any place. Any platform. Let's see what you're made of.

Them's fightin' words! Take up the challenge! I want to buy a ticket!

If Michael Moore had had his way, Slobodan Milosevic would still be the big man in a starved and tyrannical Serbia. Bosnia and Kosovo would have been cleansed and annexed. If Michael Moore had been listened to, Afghanistan would still be under Taliban rule, and Kuwait would have remained part of Iraq. And Iraq itself would still be the personal property of a psychopathic crime family, bargaining covertly with the slave state of North Korea for WMD. You might hope that a retrospective awareness of this kind would induce a little modesty. To the contrary, it is employed to pump air into one of the great sagging blimps of our sorry, mediocre, celeb-rotten culture. Rock the vote, indeed.

Well, that puts it all together, doesn't it? The world would be a far sorrier place if the "great sagging blimp" had his way. I need a drink.

Funny you should ask about good political memoirs, as I was thinking about such things the other day. Who was the first president to write his memoirs?

Well, I think it was Martin Van Buren (haven't read it, shame on me), right? Did Tyler?

Followed by James Buchanan (read it and liked it, big surprise -- a contrarian, stick-in-Lincoln's eye account of the US leading up to 1861).

Then U.S. Grant, who wrote about his generalship but not his presidency (on my shelf, haven't read it, although it was widely respected and Mark Twain helped get it published. Still in print too).

Did Cleveland publish his? Don't think so, although he did write a book called "Presidential Problems" after he left office.

TR? Good one, I think so, but I cannot call it to mind.

Coolidge wrote the absolute dullest, information free memoir ever.

Hoover must have much later in life probably in the 50s or 60s.

Truman, yes. Eisenhower, not on the presidency if I recall correctly. Nixon, yes. Ford, yes. Carter, yes. RR, yes. Bush...another good question, not sure. BC, now yes.

Thus presidential memoirs are relatively recent phenomena: pre-1900, I count only 3, 1900-1950, 2, 1950-2000, 5.

What's really interesting is that it took the Welsh so long to hide that St. George painting, laden as it is with more political than religious symbolism. The congregation must have viewed the Reformation as a heaven sent excuse.

What's even more interesting is that Doc has been silent on Niall Ferguson's latest.

As for our wine recommendation for the day...well it's not really a wine. The Hitchens' Vineyard has brought out its June 2004 grappa. Whoa!

Lot of stuff out there today...allow me to summarize.

•The science of the brain freeze is revealed to a hitherto horrified adolescent world. This is the sort of information that I wish i had had back in 1688, when 7-11 rolled out the first slurpee. Yes, I was there.

•It was Reagan, Reagan, Reagan; now it's going to be ClintonClintonClintonClintonClinton. The BBC wonders why it is that political memoirs are so lousy [do you recall reading a good one, Doc?]. And speaking of the BBC, David Dimbleby asked Mr. Clinton his usual close, penetrating, rude, in-your-face questions, and Mr. Clinton got very angry. Hmmm. Clinton should have watched tapes of Rumsfeld dealing with Dimbleby. That was a gladatorial combat to remember. And Mr. Clinton should thank his lucky stars and be thankful that it was Dimbleby and not Paxo.

•Apparently the White House is considering speeding up the process of hiring a new director of CIA. They should. What they should do is appoint someone with the job of cracking heads and firing people, while moving up junior talent to positions of responsibility. That's what has to happen in a war; it's called battlefield promotion. My pick for the job would be Rudy Giuliani. But I doubt that such a person would be selected. The safe bet seems that it will be Porter Goss, the head of the House intelligence committee, and a former CIA case officer in the '60's. I doubt that he would be the reforming chief that's needed. Probably better in that role would be Congressman Chris Cox.

•My jinx is still on: The Globe and Mail smugly reports that the Conservatives are down six points in the polls as the Canadian election approaches on frosty, maple-syrup flavoured feet.

•And Mark Steyn patiently explains European realities, and What Federalism Means.

Interesting story: While making repairs to a Welsh church, builders uncover a large mural depicting St. George slaying the dragon that has been covered up since the Reformation.

Fido's Fashion

I've been worried about this for a long time, and I daresay you have too, but finally dogs in Bavaria can wear lederhosen, even if Bavarians claim that the only dog that looks really good in lederhosen is a dachshund. (Mind you a Spitzerich looks quite fetching in an Alpine hat.)

What a pity that Scooter is a boy Corgi otherwise he could wear the Welsh national costume.

A Murrain Upon Him


I too saw the Brit speak article, and while I do laugh when Albert rolls out a "I might do" and roll my eyes when he mispronounces "schedule" and have threatened the employer with certain and immediate death if he pronounces "pasta" in the British fashion in my hearing (which is perhaps unfair since he is British. Still, a girl has to have standards.) this is what I have to say to the author of the article:

Sod off.

Sure some people use Briticisms due to pretension, but there are others who use them as idiosyncrasies of speech due to reading and exposure. As his absurd slam of Gov. Schwarzenegger illustrates, the author doesn't bother to distinguish between these usages. Der Arnold, complains the professor, says "a coffee" instead of "a cup of coffee." Well here's a newsflash for you, Herr doktor professor of journalism, Germans frequently shorten the formal "eine tasse Kaffee" (a cup of coffee) to "ein Kaffee" (a coffee), so Der Arnold is not being pretentious, he's simply doing in English what he would do in German, and as his usage is neither incorrect nor ungrammatical, it seems to me you could lighten up a bit there, chum. Compared all the "modern" twaddle spoken and written by academics and journalist these days, a mere Briticism comes as a positive relief.

The Doc beat me by a couple of minutes with his post on Briticisms. Myself, I am more guilty of them than most, what with four years spent and misspent in that Island Kingdom. Jennifer snickers a lot whenever I utter a (involuntarily, I swear) "it might do", or such similar idiom. "I reckon" is also a favorite. No doubt she can come up with quite a list of others. But I attempted to avoid such things, lest friends and family suspect that I was trying to become some sort of 21st century Cary Grant, or Hugh Grant mimic.

What I rather resent from that Pravda essay...I'm sorry, I meant Chronicle of Higher Education ("Nossink is wrong, nossink at all, especially vit American Higher Education!")...is the following:

Generally a Yank can get away with at most one such locution in his or her active vocabulary, for example the person I know who likes to refer to his time "at university," the university in question being a large land-grant institution. Any more than that and he would be laughed out the door, like the professor who habitually shows up at faculty meetings in a bespoke suit, Turnbull and Asher shirt, and Liberty of London tie, done in a Windsor knot.

I scorn anyone who refers to having been "at university". But let the Birckenstocked mildewed athletic color striped sock wearing Rococo Marxist soy milk latte sipping ideologically hidebound narrowminded lefty reactionary denizens of any history department in this country try and laugh me out the door when I show up with proper tailoring, and I will take a malacca cane to their hairless quivering lily white backsides until they are red, and drive them from the departmental door into the outer darkness where they can wail, gnash their teeth and do Admissions counselling.

And stay the hell off my lawn, you damn academics!

(Whew.) Nothing like a little vituperation to purge the blood.

Right-o! It seems Americans prefer to use Briticisms. Lord knows I am guilty, and I think it's due to the large amount of British tv and radio I consume. I always find myself saying things like "I'd like a cuppa" when I want a cup of coffee, or even that something is "brilliant" when it is pleasing.

A fastball thrown by Samuel Huntington, clearly stating that America was and still is a highly religious and essentially Christian nation. And because of its greath wealth and great religiosity, it is (dare I say) exceptional.

Like a pin to a balloon -- Waugh on Joyce: he wrote absolute rot, you know. He began writing quite well and you can see him going mad as he wrote, and his last books - only fit to be set for examinations at Cambridge. Ha!

Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition! And now, according to an exhaustive Vatican study, we find that the Inquisition was not as brutal as many thought -- only 1.8% of trials ended in execution, and in Spain, of the 125,000 trials, only 2% of defendents were doomed.

The things you find when you hang off a cliff -- a 1,250 year old Christian grave was found on a cliff in Pembrokeshire, Wales. An ancient corgi grave perhaps? One can always hope.

The South Is Different

And it's not all due to malaria.

From today's CQ Midday update:

"If poise, beauty and looking good in a swimsuit are traits desired by North Carolina voters, then Rep. Richard M. Burr, R-N.C., has scored himself quite a coup in his bid for a Senate seat. The Charlotte OBSERVER reports that in two weeks, the outgoing Miss North Carolina, Dana Reason, will join his campaign as a field representative. "I'll be the name and face of the campaign," Reason, 25, told the paper. Burr is running against former Clinton White House Chief of Staff Erskine Bowles to succeed retiring North Carolina Democratic Sen. John Edwards. Reason was an intern in North Carolina Republican Sen. Elizabeth Dole's successful 2002 Senate campaign against Bowles. "I really was impressed by his message," Reason said of Burr. "I didn't feel like I was meeting a politician, but a person." The new Miss North Carolina will be crowned June 26. "

It Had to Happen

A baker who lost nearly half his customers to the low-carb craze has tapped Dan Brown's best-seller for an Atkins alternative called the "Da Vinci Diet" that he hopes will bring people back to bread.

A little-known math theory kneaded with biblical lore from The Da Vinci Code has transformed Stephen Lanzalotta into a dietary sage. His lectures promote a diet he has followed for decades to maintain a muscular 160 pounds into middle age.

Numerology aside, it's a low-fat Mediterranean diet, and very good sense it makes, too.

The United States Army has selected a new field uniform. I think it's very practical, and very intelligently designed. Maybe that's because they took input from soldiers, for once.

Now if they would only get rid of those stupid "Ranger Bob" uniforms, and alternate between the sharp dress blues we saw so much of during the week of Reagan's funeral and these new BDU's, well, that would be fine with me. And what a cost savings! No more desert-specific camouflage, the elimination of an entire class of uniforms...That should be money enough for a division. Or maybe one F-22. Maybe.

I look forward for an fashion assessment from Jennifer, whom the Doc has called our "Style Editor".

I am still smarting from the failure of my beloved Howard Dean (that's Dr. Dean to you, proles), but that does not prevent me from making the following prediction: the Canadian Conservative Party will soon be forming a new government, and Stephen Harper will be the Canadian Premier. Last night's debate was a major step towards that happening. Things seem to be going very well, very well indeed. It's just a couple of weeks until the vote.

Stand by for the inevitable E.J. Dionne article which will shrill in loud, frightened tones, "Hang on! Progressives aren't dead yet! They landed on their feet!"

Welcome to Parliament, dude

Apparently, the British Parliament doesn't like you, but is trying to shape up. A new committee has recommended that, in the wake of the infamous purple powder attack on PM Tony Blair, MPs should strive to make the old place a whole lot friendlier. No longer will visitors to the Commons Chamber be called "strangers" (this is decidedly unfriendly and alientating, don't you know) and guides will be posted around the building, smiling, and saying things like "How can I help? Where do you want to go?" You know, like Walmart.

Says MP Peter Hain: Parliament shouldn't be a private club where members of the public are treated only on sufferance ... They should be welcomed in - it's their democracy after all. It's not MPs' democracy or House officers' democracy - it's the citizens' democracy ... I think we can make Parliament a much more voter friendly place and a much more modern institution that young people identify with.

First, it is essentially a private club, but much stricter than the Elks Lodge, with a long history, traditions, rules, and etiquette. To attend and view Parliament is a privilege. Not everyone can or should be there. Lighten up the image, take away its gravitas, and people will take it lightly.

Second, "it's the citizens' democracy" seems a bit pandering, stating a rather obvious fact that people back in the district vote for their MPs -- so what? Does that give voters the right to do anything they want in the building? Reminds me of the drunks at baseball games who say, "Hey, I bought a ticket, I can do anything I want, like scream obscenities at the players." No. You are here as a courtesy. Don't push it.

Third, there is nothing that makes my shoulders dip more than saying national institutions need to be made more youth-friendly and "modern." Pray tell, how this will happen? Flashing lights that blink "Par-lia-ment...Parliament!" Perhaps constant thumping background music, so that visiting Parliament is roughly similar to visiting the mall? Celebrity promotional visits to the Commons and Lords, maybe Britney Spears in a wig ("I'd just like to tell all the kids out there that the Lords rock.")? Maybe a whole new building, since the current one is so fuddy-duddy and yesterday (one Liberal Democrat called the Parliament building a "mock medieval, neo-Gothic palace")?

Like, dude, Parliament and, like this voting thing, is phat.

The Military and the Media

Mac Owens has an essay on National Review Online describing what he sees as a renewing deterioration of military-media relations.

It's probably worth pointing out that some of this deterioration comes about when the media doesn't do the job it should, viz., dig into all stories, not just ones about the US Army. Here's an extract from www.strategypage.com, a list of what the after-action investigation of that "Iraqi wedding" found, and it explains why Army commanders were so adamant that it wasn't wedding.

- The only permanent buildings at the site contained large stocks of food (the meat was still frozen solid), bedding, medical supplies, ammunition and weapons, as well a document forging operation. 

- The site was not prepared for a wedding feast, and there were no stocks of dishes,
plates, etc. and, most importantly, no  "Nuptial Tent," which is a standard feature of an Arab wedding.

- There was no evidence of any means of support for the house. The most common livelihood in the area is sheep raising, and there was no evidence of that at the site. All evidence pointed to a smuggler way station, similar to others found along the Syrian border in the past.

- The deceased "wedding guests" were almost all men of military age, only a couple of women, no elders at all. There was only one child, who was wounded. All the deceased were dressed as city dwellers, not as the local Arabs who would hold a wedding at such a location. All of the deceased lacked any form of ID on them. The only ID's found were stacked up inside the house, and these were fewer in number than those bodies found at the site.

- Weapons and equipment found there included RPG's, military binoculars, and bomb making materials.

- There was lots of clothing found, prepackaged in pants and shirt sets.

- Weddings are traditionally held on Thursdays in Iraq to take advantage of Friday as a day of rest. The bombing raid took place on Tuesday night.

- There were also no gifts, no decorations, no food set out or left over, and the good bit of money recovered was all in the pockets of the bodies found at the site.

What I wonder is, how come they didn't leak this before? There's more to military-media relations than embedding...

And, this just in, it seems that President Bush edited on the fly when he made those warm and gracious remarks about former President Clinton. There has been a leak of the actual speech.

Niall Watch

Alas, I neglected to post this essay by Mark Steyn on Niall Ferguson when it originally appeared...but it tastes just as good after some time in the fridge! Maybe even better!

This is particularly so because The Doc's "Favorite Historian" was at the time (April, when Sadr's Militia took to the streets) that the Shiite Uprising had Begun, as any Old Imperial Hand could have predicted, but those Stupid Yanks just don't read history, particularly enough of his own.

And, pray, where is this Shiite uprising? Hmmm...it seems to have gone the way of the ferocious Afghan winter. Waiter, crow for Dr. Ferguson.

Or, alternatively, a bit of salt from Dr. Steyn's shaker:

I was sorry to see Niall Ferguson, currently living high off the hog in the bosom of the Great Satan, reduced to peddling the Max Hastings bloody-ignorant-Yanks-blundering-around-the-world line in Saturday's Telegraph. He trotted through a brisk precis of the 1920 Iraqi uprising against the British and then wrote confidently: "I am willing to bet that not one senior military commander in Iraq today knows the slightest thing about these events."

I'll take that bet! What do you fancy? Ten thousand bucks per commander, rising commensurately as we go down the ranks? Last year, at a roadblock in the desert between Rutba and Ramadi, I spoke to a humble sergeant who, on discovering I wrote for this great British newspaper, said: "Wow! You guys got into some serious shit here, right?" On the passenger seat I had my copies of the Karshs' Empires Of The Sand and David Fromkin's A Peace To End All Peace. "That's a great book," he said of the latter.

Professor Ferguson's thesis is that the "ignoramus" Yanks are so hung up on theories of American exceptionalism that they decline to learn from the British experience. This accusation might more usefully be bandied closer to home, where London's governing class has, in little more than a generation, cut loose its imperial inheritance. If one were to pursue the parallel further, one might argue that the British Establishment is so hung up on theories of European exceptionalism it's shrugged off its own history.

Do read the rest of it. It still has the requisite bite, snap and crackle on the palate, mixed with the smell of prickly yet juicy raspberries, characteristic of the best years of the Steyn vintage.

I see that a collection of Evelyn Waugh's travel tales have been published, and get a lovely review at First Things. Must put that on my list (how intimidating at 1106 pages).

National Review's reprint of its massive and comprehensive defense of Reaganomics -- a combination of supply-side primer and "I-told-ya-so."

And with all the vagaries and change of the world, it's a sign of stability to see that the Colonel of Libya might still be up to his old crazy tricks, this time plotting to assassinate Crown Prince Abdullah of Saudi Arabia. But it's interesting to note that he wanted to do it to hike oil prices yet higher, not spread the cause of Islamo-Marxist revolution has codified in his unreadable "Green Book".

My, how times have changed.

Tellng a Newspaper By Its Cover

One of the things that is still very cool about England is that the big London broadsheet newspapers have a way with the cover art. They didn't hesitate, on September 12th, to devote the entire front page to a photograph. American editiors, and newspapers, just don't seem to have the technology or the courage to make a big splash. The cover of this mornings Washington Post is very boring indeed; but the online "cover" is wonderful, particularly the photo of the interior of the Capitol rotunda. This has to be the first-ever time I've preferred the design and look of an online version to the printed.

Canadian Liberals in Trouble

Or so one gathers by reading this Liberal-Sources-Only piece in the Globe and Mail. It makes for a pleasant muse, for those of us who assiduously follow Canadian politics. (Lector: Why do you follow Canadian politics? Auctor: Because they are fascinating? Lector: No doubt, no doubt...but why are they fascinating? Auctor: The stakes are so small.)

Just back from watching Mr. Reagan's funeral cortege. We were stationed in front of the Department of Labor and so were in perfect position to see everything, including the missing man formation beautifully executed right above us. I am pleased to say that everyone was extraordinarily well behaved and somber, despite the occasional eccentric clapping. (Apparently clapping is the only way we know how to give support.) I am even more pleased to say that when I went by the Capitol at 9:45, the viewing line stretched down the Hill and almost all the way around the Reflecting Pool and was actually longer than it sounds because around the Reflecting Pool it did not so much resemble a queue as it did a scrum.

The Heart of a King, and the Head of a Communist

This one is news to me, but apparently the heart of Louis XVII of France has been identified via DNA and was given a royal funeral by French royalists yesterday. Now a rock-hard, barely recognizable nugget in a crystal jar, it was apparently cut out of the dead king's chest (he was a boy of only 10 and died in a revolutionary prison of TB) and passed around as a secret souvenir for years.

Ok. Well, long live the king.

And a 9 foot high, giant bust of former Soviet leader and KGB director Yuri Andropov has been erected in Petrozavodsk, Russia, apparently upon the urging of local war veterans. Still, Russians liberals are a bit creeped out to have a giant KGB head looking at them. My favorite understated line from the BBC story: "But liberal groups have condemned the giant head."

Reagan Memories

There are of course floods of Reagan profiles, reminiscences, etc., being published this week. I noticed with a smirk this morning that the Washington Post must have been concerned about the positive coverage they were giving Reagan, since today they have a slew of "There were problems with his presidency" articles, including a bitter column by their new reliable lefty Harold Myerson. (When did he show up, btw? It must have happened while I was abroad.)

Here are the ones I've like the best, either because of the writing, perceptions, but usually because of the inside observations they bring to the piece. There was a quirky essay by Michael Beran which compares Reagan to the protagonist of Joseph Conrad's Lord Jim. Kenneth Adelman describes being Reagan's Director of the Arms Control and Disarmament Agency. The best part is the following anecdote:

The first epiphany came early in his administration, when we gathered in a formal National Security Council meeting in the Cabinet Room. Secretary of State Alexander Haig opened by lamenting that the Law of the Sea Treaty was something we didn't like but had to accept, since it had emerged over the previous decade through a 150-nation negotiation. Mr. Haig then proceeded to recite 13 or so options for modifying the treaty--some with several suboptions.

Such detail, to put it mildly, was not the president's strong suit. He looked increasingly puzzled and finally interrupted. "Uh, Al," he asked quietly, "isn't this what the whole thing was all about?"

"Huh?" The secretary of state couldn't fathom what the president meant. None of us could. So Mr. Haig asked him.

Well, Mr. Reagan shrugged, wasn't not going along with something that is "really stupid" just because 150 nations had done so what the whole thing was all about--our running, our winning, our governing? A stunned Mr. Haig folded up his briefing book and promised to find out how to stop the treaty altogether.

But probably the best of all the memories comes in an essay by another arms control negotiator, Max Kampelman, who gives illuminating glimpses into just how Reagan operated. Fascinating stuff.

And here's something else that shows Reagan's legacy; arms control negotiators just aren't as important as they were. They have less to do.

Neapolitans to the Rescue

I thought I would beat Jennifer to the punch with a food posting. Of course, it's more than just about food. It's about standards, and tradition, and what the heck you mean when you say the word "pizza".

Italian pizza makers, politicians and the modern-day proletariat had set aside a century's worth of squabbling over tomatoes, basil, cheese and oil to focus on a larger topic that threatened them all: Neapolitan pizza was under attack, facing impostors worldwide.

As one local pizza maker, Alfonso Cucciniello, put it: "Everyone in the world is trying to do this type of pizza. In Japan, in China, in the United States, in Miami."

"Pizza with pineapples?" he asked. "That's a cake."

You tell'em, Alfons! Hit em' again! You are the thin line between civilization and anarchy.

Has Someone Found Atlantis?

Fascinating story from the BBC about an aerial archaeological survey in southern Spain that has found something that looks uncannily like the mythical city described by Plato in the Timaeus and Critias. Frankly, I never expected that so much as a brick of the place ever existed. So to find what looks like rubble of a city grouped in concentric rings, just as Plato described, is more than a little surprising for me.

Truman's Korean Exit Strategy Finally Approaching Execution

Crying for Dr. Donne

Over on Bunnie Diehl , there's a bit of a discussion about whether it would be appropriate for churches to toll their bells on Friday to commemorate Mr. Reagan's passing. Some people object on the grounds that it mixes too much church and state.

I am as sympathetic as the next girl whose ancestors fled Germany because the State was too involved with the church and who hangs out with wild-eyed libertarians to worries about mixing church and state, but really there are limits as to how much one can worry about things. In my family worrying has been officially designated an Olympic sport but on this topic the limit has been reached.

The practice of the death knell is an ancient one in at least the English church. Doubtless it was primarily a parish wide notification system, but it was also a commemoration of a life and a reminder of mortality, for it was upon this aspect of it that John Donne mused in Meditation XVII, Nunc lento sonitu dicunt, Morieris. The meditation begins "Perchance hee for whom this Bell tolls, may be so ill, as that he knowes not it tolls for him." But its famous bit comes in the middle: "No man is an Iland, intire of it selfe; every man is a peece of the Continent, a part of the maine; if a Clod bee washed away by the Sea, Europe is the lesse, as well as if a Promontorie were, as well as if a Mannor of thy friends or of thine owne were; any mans death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankinde; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee. "

So yes the bells should toll for Mr. Reagan, not because he cut taxes, or saved civilization, but because he was a man.

"if by this consideration of anothers danger, I take mine owne into contemplation, and so secure my selfe, by making my recourse to my God, who is our onely securitie."

I wish I had more time to write, but I am so busy lately. Especially as I have so much to say about Ronald Reagan.

One thing that strikes me is all the talk about the popularity of President Reagan's "sunny disposition" rather than his ideas. It is almost as if the media is saying his personality sold his program rather than the widespread appeal of anti-communism/supply-side economics. I saw Sam Donaldson telling George Will the very thing, that the people liked him more than they did his philosophy.

What total horse manure. Ask youself this: had Ronald Reagan come out in 1980 and campaigned for higher taxes, bigger government, and unilateral disarmament, would the American people have rallied around him in a landslide? Please. No one could have sold that, and Carter certainly tried. The people liked the man and they liked his ideas. His "sunny disposition" and conservative politics were cut from the same cloth.

Some people still don't get it.

A rather tough-hitting, tough-charging essay in the latest Spectator, pricking the "greatest generation" balloon just a bit. The generation that saved England and the West from Hitlerian tyranny, turned tail and led the UK into a swamp of welfare state decline. For all their heroism in war, it was the D-Day generation that clamoured for, developed and exploited a welfare state. For more than 30 years they fostered the belief that the statism so necessary in conflict could be continued, with advantage, into the peace. The very institutions that had nurtured their resilience and sense of duty were, in turn, undermined by them. The family was torpedoed by the liberal divorce laws, and by the removal of the stigmas upon single parenthood and bastardy. The extended family, so vital in the 1920s and 1930s when the D-Day generation were children, was supplanted by the welfare state. Patriotism was ridiculed and caricatured by the very generation whose freedoms were secured by it, and cast aside in favour of post-imperial guilt. It is surprising, given the success with which the values and attitudes of the 1930s were put to use during the war, that the very people who harnessed them should have, in the subsequent peace, reacted so violently against them. What irony.

Party of the People? The wealthiest members of the Supreme Court (with investments in the millions) are David Souter, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Stephen Breyer, Sandra Day O'Connor, and John Paul Stevens. The "poorest?" Antonin Scalia, Clarence Thomas, and William Rehnquist.

Not Grandpa?

For years we've been hearing how similar chimps are to humans, with approximately only a 2-5% difference in genetic make up. Now genetic analysis indicates that they may not be that similar after all.

The Coming Age of Hobbes

Paul Starobin in the Atlantic Monthly has a tantalizing little article called The Dawn of the Daddy State, where he argues that the coming years will be a debate (and should be) about "getting authoritarianism right." Considering the unique security dangers of the 21st century and the spectre of domestic terror, Americans, Europeans, and others are increasingly embracing and demanding more extreme government controls on individual freedoms. In fact, when the government does do something (like the Patriot Act), the majority not only favors it, it thinks the intrusions do not go far enough.

How interesting, this notion that we are entering an authoritarian age, when the prevailing rhetoric is all about liberal democracy, free markets, and constitutions. Starobin does not necessarily think this is a bad thing, unless we weakly give in to authoritarian abuses and fall into an ideology like fascism. The challenge is not to become Vladimir Putin, a leader he rightly mistrusts. Yet this challenge does not mean inevitable failure. Both order and liberty pose their greatest dangers on the extremes, and the task of the state has always been to efficiently balance both based on the tenor of the times. Some times need more order, other times need more liberty.

He takes Hobbes as his model, itself a minefield of safe ground and danger, but falls back on the Monster of Malmesbury's essential point (looking around with fearful eyes at what the English Civil War had wrought) that liberty depends upon the successful imposition of order. Order liberates, not constrains; it makes life possible, not inauthentic and impossible.

Seems like a tall order to fill in America, where the ruling elites and traditional political culture fears (at least in part) authority. Liberals fear the security state and boost the welfare state; conservatives fear the welfare state and boost the security state. Yet each is a half-hearted embrace, a partial endorsement of authority. One fears government in the bedroom, the other fears government in the wallet. Each is also half-hearted embrace of liberty. One endorses freedom in the bedroom, the other endorses freedom in filling up the wallet. I guess the question is, to follow Starobin's lead, which will get authoritarianism right?

Fascinating question. Discuss.

I was going to post on Roger Scruton, but I see that Doc has beaten me to it. My only consolation is that I beat him to Buchan long ago. Of course, I only beat him to it, because my brother started reading Buchan's books long before me and has, so far as I can tell, pretty much read everything Buchan has written.

So strong is his devotion, in fact, that when in Scotland, we visited the John Buchan Centre in Broughton, Peebleshire, and I like Buchan well enough that I didn't mind a bit.

The Hannay novels are great , but my favorite Buchan novel so far remains John MacNab.

My wife and I have been taking long driving trips lately, mostly to New York, Ohio, and Indiana, and rather than listening to music or "books on tape," we've developed the habit of reading aloud. And when I say "we," I mean her since I normally do most of the driving. For past three months our driving book has been a collection of John Buchan, the Four Adventures of Richard Hannay.

Now I had read about Buchan before, and made mental note that during a free week or two, I'd try and track down his books and give them a good read. When shopping for a birthday gift for my wife this past March, I stumbled upon a Buchan collection and bought it. What a find. We now have read Thirty-Nine Steps (and watched the 1935 Hitchcock movie of the same, but the movie takes serious liberties), about Hannay's inadvertant stumbling upon a career in military intelligence and his futile attempts to stop the beginning of World War One. And then Greenmantle, about an attempt by Imperial Germany to stir up a jihad via its Ottoman Turk allies in 1915, and Hannay's thwarting of the same with a reliable cast of friends (the mysterious Orientalist Sandy, the American businessman Blenkiron, the crusty useful Boer Peter). Followed by Mr. Standfast, Hannay's pursuit of the diabolical man of mystery Ivery and his network of spies. Finally, we are now completing the Three Hostages, Hannay's 1920s battle with the hypnotic villain (quite literally) Medina.

These books are not only entertaining, they are finely written (if occasionally melodramtic -- Buchan's attempt at giving Hannay a romantic life reads like a soap opera) and richly descriptive, especially in relating details of geography. Few writers can paint a mental picture of Scotland, Turkey, or Norway like Buchan. And lately much attention has been given to his line about Islam at the beginning of Greenmantle: There is a dry wind blowing through the East, and the parched grasses wait the spark ... Islam is a fighting creed, and the mullah still stands in the pulpit with the Koran in one hand and a drawn sword in the other.

In addition, Buchan puts rather insightful remarks into the mouths of his characters. This came home to me while reading (or listening to, actually) a remark by a character in Mr. Standfast, the contrite ex-pacifist Lancelot Wake. Speaking with Hannay at a French cafe, Wake remarks: I hate more than I love. All we humanitarians and pacificists have hatred as our mainspring. Odd isn't it, for people who preach brotherly love? But it's the truth. We're full of hate towards everything that doesn't square in with our ideas. everything that jars on our ladylike nerves. Fellows like you are so in love with their cause that they've no time or inclination to detest what thwarts them. We've no cause -- only negatives, and that means hatred, and self-torture, and a beastly jaundice of soul. What a rich, concise description of ideology and dangers inherent in sentimental progressivism.

Put Buchan on your summer reading list, and check out the John Buchan Society. I'd say it is required reading for any aspiring Young Fogey.

Must run to the store and get a copy of Roger Scruton's new book on country life. If it is as good as the hunting book a few years ago, this should be a pleasure.

And I notice the idea of a Young Fogey draws attention again, cheers to that. I made note of the 1984 Harry Mount article on Fogeyism last September, discovering to my glee, that I had become one. The fine, fellow New England, and right-thinking blog Irish Elk makes note of fogeyism here, and points out a blogger by the same name: The Young Fogey's Agreeable World. Good stuff.

More Day After Tomorrow

Nice Union Leader quotes, but the best I've heard on the topic comes from a colleague of mine:

"Mark Gordon, one of the producers of the film, hopes that the film will "raise consciousness about the environment," a statement akin to the producers of Peter Pan saying they hope that film will raise consciousness about air travel."

Been too busy to post recently -- a good succinct editorial in this morning's Union-Leader about the silly premise underneath the new eco-terror movie, "Day After Tomorrow." Turns out none of it can happen, but don't let that interfere with the message. Notes the paper, That’s like saying, “I know that, technically, alien life has not been proven to exist, but I think everyone should see ‘Independence Day’ and ‘Signs’ so we can think about how to prepare for an alien invasion.” It’s not much of an argument. But if you don’t have science on your side, you may as well enlist Hollywood. Spot on.

And how about Bill Cosby speaking in DC, as relates a column in the Washington Post: Cosby, contrasting the achievements of civil rights giants of the past with today’s generation, observed that a lot of “lower economic people are not holding up their end in this deal. These people are not parenting. They are buying things for kids — $500 sneakers for what? And won’t spend $200 for ‘Hooked on Phonics.’” And he said a lot more too.

The Union-Leader on the disgrace of politically-charged graduation addresses -- I hadn't heard about Ken Burns at Yale, finger-wagging about "facile judgments of good and evil." What is facile about Saddam's Iraq or North Korea? I don't see much sublety in the diabolical evil there.

Needless to say, as any consistent reader knows, Niall Ferguson is our favorite historian. Deliciously contrarian and thoughtful. He concisely reviews his ideas on the American Empire with the Atlantic here, and below are a few choice nuggets:

To [19th century British liberals], globalizing the British model was synonymous with globalizing liberalism. They looked around and said, Well, not many people have our combination of institutions. What we need to do is plant the seed of this system in as many places as we can and make the world suitably Anglicized. It's only a contradiction in terms if you define "liberal" in a rather early-twenty-first-century American way, meaning that you like to hug trees, or you have a fit if somebody fires a gun in anger. My sense of liberal is the classical sense. Liberalism stands for creating the institutions of political, economic, and social freedom. And it's very obvious that in a dozen or more countries in the world, there is absolutely no chance of those institutions developing autonomously. These countries are either so under tyranny, or so completely anarchic, that it's never going to happen.

A lovely little liberal distinction, no?

First, remember that people may kill one another even more in the absence of empire—see sub-Saharan Africa. Second, if we don't extend our civilization, an even worse empire may emerge—see the Cold War. It is the habitual fantasy of many Americans that if the U.S. would just stop intervening abroad everybody in the world would enact the lyrics of John Lennon's "Imagine." History suggests otherwise.

Spontaneous peace as contrary to the record of history -- what a shocking revelation, Dr. Ferguson. And how awful is it to think that too many Americans (and American leaders) believe in a foreign policy remarkably similar to a Lennon song? "You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one." Lords knows that's true, and that's what worries me. Turn off the radio and go the library.

American overstretch, to use Paul Kennedy's term, is not about external imperial adventures. It's about domestic programs, Medicare in particular. The operation itself—conquest of Iraq—is cheap. The defense budget is still going to come in comfortably under its Cold War average this year. I think a lot of Americans don't quite see that—they assume this is costing a huge amount of money. In truth, the real financial problems lie at home ... The reality of the Bush Administration's fiscal policy is that it has actually significantly increased expenditure on a number of things that could be thought of as social policy. If you look at the items of federal expenditure that have gone up since 2000, obviously the military and terrorism-related expenditures are number one. But actually expenditure on what might be thought of as domestic programs has gone up too. And that's not starving the beast. It seems to me that there are elements of this administration that are more like the old Nixonian republicanism, which said you spend what you have to spend to make sure you win the election. That, I think, is much more what's driving policy.

Confirms what I have said now for a couple of years, that we are witnessing another Nixon Administration, particularly in domestic policy. Talking like Reagan and Goldwater, acting like Nixon and Rockefeller.

In a way, if you are the imperial power you have to accept that people are going to hate you however you go about spreading your influence. One of the problems Americans have is this desire to be loved. Legitimacy isn't necessarily based on affection. It's based on credibility. And I think what we're seeing in Iraq is just the latest in a series of tests of American resolve and credibility. It's not the hatred one should worry about, it's the contempt. The legitimacy that the United States will achieve if it makes a success of Iraq will outweigh the inevitable resentment. You need to be respected. And the United States has a long way to go before it attains that respect, most obviously in the Middle East.

Exactly. How often do I hear the annoying line, "we are losing the hearts and minds." So what? What is it with this continuous need to be loved? Who we are, how we live, and how we use our power will always create envy, jealousy, and hatred. Those are givens. But if we see them as obstacles, we will never achieve the respect (read: fear) upon which success is built. If Iraq ever builds a successful liberal state, it will not be because they love Americans, it will be because they (1.) want it, and (2.) fear American power if they refuse to defend it. Hearts and minds that love America seem entirely beside the point.

On this date in 1861, Colonel Elmer Ellsworth of New York noticed that atop the Marshall Hotel in Alexandria, Virginia flew the recently unveiled Confederate flag. The indignant Ellsworth entered the hotel, ascended to the roof, and took down the flag. While descending the stairs, he was confronted by the hotelier James Jackson and shot dead. Ellsworth's troops retaliated and shot Jackson down.

The incident became a sensation (mirroring the reactions to Preston Brooks' beating of Senator Charles Sumner in 1856), with Northerners lionizing Ellsworth for defending Union and Flag from the upstart traitor Jackson, and Southerers honoring Jackson for defending his property and loyalties from the invading trooper Ellsworth.

Take note how these two articles on the bombing of the supposed wedding party differ. The Knight-Ridder story gives the US military reports of fake ID machines, medical facilities, bombing-making equipment, terrorist manuals, and firearms, all used for the purpose of slipping foreign fighters unnoticed into Iraq. To the question of why they were having a party, the American general answered smartly, "Bad people have parties too," that despite the fact that Army found little evidence of a big party.

Then a video is released, showing party-goers first, then some of the party-goers dead after the strike. So what? The BBC reports on the video but mentions nothing of the above evidence and captured materials. Their only assertion is that the video "clouds US denials." Apparently the fact there was a party is more important than the fact that the so-called party-goers were likely responsible for untold numbers of Iraqi and Coalition dead, to say nothing of the deaths these men could have caused.

A nice expose on Michael Moore in the UK Observer: What I think, after my short time in his company, is that Moore is a man you would not want as an opponent, but also one you'd think twice about calling a friend. Though a talented film-maker and a clever showman, a populist who knows how to play the maverick, he is too often both big-headed and small-minded. In his desire to be seen as the decent man telling truth to power, he is too ready to blame those less powerful than himself for his shortcomings.

You go away for a week and the world goes batty.

I see from Enoch Soames that Evelyn Waugh's Brideshead Revisited is being remade (gulp). Now the BBC's 1982 made-for-TV version was darn good and pretty faithful to the book. In fact, I watched the TV version first (marathon fashion, over two days) and then read the book.

Yet now I see that the remake will actually take out the Catholic bits, and make religious faith the problem rather than Waugh's intention of making it the inexorable attraction, the everlasting thing never to be escaped. Remember Lady Marchmain reading Chesterton's Father Brown mysteries, especially that magnificent quote about God tugging on the thread? Remember Lord Marchmain dying, fighting faith all the way, finally giving in to the inevitable and making the Sign of the Cross?

Then I knew that the sign I had asked for was not a little thing, not a passing nod of recognition, and a phrase came back to me from my childhood of the veil of the temple being rent from top to bottom.

Good Lord, how can you take God out of Brideshead and still call it by that name? That is like saying, "but for Napolean and all those boats, Patrick O'Brian books are ok." What is Waugh without God?

CHARLES: I suppose they try and make you believe an awful lot of nonsense?

SEBASTIAN: Is it nonsense? I wish it were. It sometimes sounds terribly sensible to me.

CHARLES: But, dear Sebastian, you can't seriously believe it all.

SEBASTIAN: Can't I?

CHARLES: I mean about Christmas and the star and the three kings and the ox and the ass.

SEBASTIAN: Oh yes, I believe that. It's a lovely idea.

CHARLES: But you can't believe things because they're a lovely idea.

SEBASTIAN: But I do. That's how I believe.

And yet, and yet. Can we perhaps be the optimist here? It is hard. Can the movie bring a remnant few to the original book (much like myself several years back), to read those concluding lines when Charles returns to the Marchmain chapel, to see the small red flame -- a beaten-copper lamp of deplorable design, relit before the beaten-copper doors of the tabernacle; the flame which the old knights saw from their tombs, which they saw put out; that flame burns again for other soldiers, far from home, farther, in heart, than Acre or Jerusalem. It could not have been lit but for the builders and the tragedians, and there I found it this morning, burning anew among the old stones.

Perhaps that's all we can ask.

I have returned, back after a long trip to the Midwest.

John Leo penned a thoughtful and balanced essay on Catholic politicians and the Church here. He concludes, in part, The bottom line is that the bishops are stuck with a Catholic governing class uninterested in the tenets of its own religion. Even the language of Catholic moral discussion has mostly disappeared among Catholic pols. They increasingly speak in the language of the abortion-rights movement. There is nothing much the bishops can do quickly about this. It may sound weak, but the bishops probably should raise their voices a bit and just keep trying to persuade Catholic pols, present and future, to take their religion seriously.

Was there actually a place called Troy? Some think so. Call me a stick in the mud, but I always thought Hector the more appealing character.

Good article on the mind-bendingly-dumb American history curriculum in many schools: But the worst offense is a tone of cheerful, sanitized neutrality so overwhelming that it actually renders the prose ahistorical. Thus in a section on “Life Behind the Iron Curtain,” middle-schoolers are taught both that “Communist governments in Eastern Europe granted their people few freedoms,” and that “in some ways, Communist governments did take care of their citizens. Food prices were low. Health care was free,” as if all prices really were low and health care really was free in economic systems that depended upon bribery and connections. Thus in a unit on the Industrial Revolution, students are asked how they would react if forced to become child laborers — “Would you join a union, go to school, or run away?” — as if there actually were unions, universal education and places for children to run to in early-19th century Britain. Thus in a chapter on Africa, the word “tribe” is carefully avoided. Good teachers can and do overcome bad textbooks, but they clearly have an uphill battle.

And I love how Boston.com posts "Odds and Ends" every day, with crazy news stories from around the world. Here is the best from today:

A German man invents a toilet that berates men if they leave the seat down. Yes, it actually yells at them, saying "Hello, what are you up to then? Put the seat back down right away, you are definitely not to pee standing up ... you will make a right mess..."

"But speaking here in my capacity as a polished, sophisticated European as well, it seems to me the laugh here is on the polished, sophisticated Europeans. They think Americans are fat, vulgar, greedy, stupid, ambitious and ignorant and so on. And they've taken as their own, as their representative American, someone who actually embodies all of those qualities." - Christopher Hitchens on "Scarborough Country," last night.

Rumor is, Prince Charles of England will convert to Greek Orthodox. He is currently resting (not his first time) at Mount Athos monastery in Greece. Now, wouldn't that prevent him from ascending the throne? British heirs cannot become Catholics; I believe that is prescribed by law. How can they protect, defend, and represent Anglicanism if the King is Greek Orthodox?

This Welshman was fined for saying nasty things about his Irish neighbors, judged by the court as being "racist." I didn't know the Irish were a race. I knew they were a country, and a culture, and an ethnicity, but race?

And Bunnie Diehl brings up the good point: why no attention paid to Berg's butchers anti-Christian remarks, calling President Bush the "dog of the Christians?" Or the President of Lebanon's remarks reacting to US sanctions against Syria for supporting terrorism: "This is yet another proof that the U.S. administration is biased and reels under Israeli influence?"

Which bring up the interesting mix of a Christian dog under Israeli influence. Givemeabreak.

Will the horrid end of Mr. Berg be the splash of cold water so many Westerners need? What will it take to wake people up out of their self-hating, anti-Western stupor? 3000 dead and the destruction of the WTT was not enough? You need more proof that terrorism is not motivated by "us being there," but by us being us? They hate us because we are Americans, not because we happen to be in Iraq right now -- that just makes it easier. They do not hate the proximity of our people so much as they hate the ideas our people represent. How many have to die to prove this to you?

Here is a rather good blog, The Belmont Club, on the awful Berg story:

The Belmont Club predicted that "the sad balance of probability is that Abu Ghraib will be displaced from the front pages by the next terrorist outrage, the next Bali, the next Madrid, the next 9/11 until we find ourselves wondering why it upset us at all" -- and the process has already begun. People who only yesterday were beating their breasts at infamy of the 800th MP brigade will be calling for a MOAB to dropped on Fallujah tomorrow. And to the inherent madness of war we will add another lunacy: strategy by manic-depression. 'Are we feeling generous today toward the enemy? Or do we want to get some aggression off our chests? Hmm?'

This is what comes of asserting the right to unleash emotions disconnected from rational perspective as "patriotic". This is what comes of not sticking to facts and they are these. The enemy has attacked America on its own soil and therefore must be defeated utterly. Members of the US military have committed a court-martial offense and therefore they must be punished severely. Any withdrawal from Iraq will not bring safety from enemy action inasmuch as they attacked Manhattan and Washington DC nearly two years before OIF. Any withdrawal from Iraq without first setting up a stable and responsible government there would result in a bloodbath beside which the massacre of the Shi'ites and the gassing of the Kurds by Saddam would be a pale moonlit shadow. Therefore we must persist until victory.

And the final fact is this. The only exit from war's inhumanity is through the doorway of victory. For while it may be mitigated, controlled and reduced to a certain extent fundamentally "war is cruelty, and you cannot refine it", though victory can end it. While it continues, as many in the Left who long for a 21st century Vietnam hope, it will unleash unpredictable forces which no one can control. Those who delighted in discovering the photographs at Abu Ghraib little imagined Nick Berg's video. And while we can safely grant Andrew Sullivan's plea and publish both, for reasons the media imagine are laudable, it is what comes next that I am afraid of.

And James Lileks, at this incisive best, on the same:

The West doesn’t have the power to change Islam; it only has the power to destroy it. We have a lot of nukes. We could kill everyone. We could just take out a few troublesome nations, kill millions, and irradiate Mecca so that the Fifth Pillar is invalidated. The hajj would be impossible. Every pilgrim a martyr. I don’t think we’ll do either; God help us if we do, but inasmuch as we have the capability, it’s an option. But it would be a crime greater than the crime that provoked such an act, and in the end that would stay our hand. They know we won’t do it.

Strong horse, weak horse.

There is another path, of course. Simply put: if a US city is nuked, the US will have to nuke someone, or let it stand that the United States can lose a city without cost to the other side. Defining “the other side” would be difficult, of course – do you erase Tehran to punish the mullahs? Make a crater out of Riyahd? These are exactly the sort of decisions we never want to make. But let’s say it happens. Baltimore: fire and wind. Gone. That horrible day would clarify things once and for all. It’s one thing for someone in a distant city to cheer the fall of two skyscrapers: from a distance, it looks like a bloody nose. But erasing a city is a different matter.
Everyone will have to choose sides. That would be one possible beginning of the end of this war.

Thankfully, it’s not the only one. There are a dozen other scenarios, half of which we can’t imagine: the unknowns we don’t know, as a wise man said. But half the battle will occur in places we cannot reach or observe. A minimal-casualty defeat of the Islamists will require the help of Islam. I'd like to think that will happen on its own, without some exterior catastrophe to force the issue. For that matter I'd like to think I'll win the Powerball. Every time the jackpot goes over 200 million, I buy a ticket. Every time I lose. I'm always disappointed, of course. But never surprised.

If you have a few minutes, read this fascinating article about virtual gaming and economics. A down-on-his-luck economics professor started virtual gaming at his home and began looking into the economy of the gaming world. When he realized that virtual goods and currency were actually being sold at online auction sites, he took notice:

He began calculating frantically. He gathered data on 616 auctions, observing how much each item sold for in U.S. dollars. When he averaged the results, he was stunned to discover that the EverQuest platinum piece was worth about one cent U.S. — higher than the Japanese yen or the Italian lira. With that information, he could figure out how fast the EverQuest economy was growing. Since players were killing monsters or skinning bunnies every day, they were, in effect, creating wealth. Crunching more numbers, Castronova found that the average player was generating 319 platinum pieces each hour he or she was in the game — the equivalent of $3.42 (U.S.) per hour. "That's higher than the minimum wage in most countries," he marvelled.

Then he performed one final analysis: The Gross National Product of EverQuest, measured by how much wealth all the players together created in a single year inside the game. It turned out to be $2,266 U.S. per capita. By World Bank rankings, that made EverQuest richer than India, Bulgaria, or China, and nearly as wealthy as Russia.

It was the seventy-seventh richest country in the world. And it didn't even exist.

Castronova sat back in his chair in his cramped home office, and the weird enormity of his findings dawned on him. Many economists define their careers by studying a country. He had discovered one.

Or perhaps you are a tad religious? How about virtual church service?

And Happy Birthday Charles Warren Fairbanks, one of a long distinguished line of totally unknown men who were Vice-President of the United States. Unfair, mind you, but inevitable. As Truman's Veep Alben Barkley once said, "A farmer had two sons, one went to sea, another became vice-president, and neither were ever heard from again."

Anyhow, tip a glass today for Fairbanks (for whom Fairbanks, Alaska is named -- did you know that?), an Old Guard conservative senator from Indiana, picked for the 1904 Republican ticket with Teddy Roosevelt to balance off TR's disturbingly progressive tendencies.

Cheers!

I have been buried under a pile of final exams lately, so the posts have been few. But as the song goes, "I'm beginning to see the light."

A sensible column in today's Union-Leader decrying the New Prohibitionism of MADD: lowering the blood alcohol level any further will harm the "wine with dinner" drinkers, not the alcoholics who kill and maim.

And God bless Alex Beam in the Boston Globe for slapping down the ninny movie "Super Size Me" as an simplistic anti-business screed:

The truth is that if you were to eat a diet of exclusively foie gras, caviar, and champagne for 30 days you would trash your health just as surely as Spurlock trashed his. But truth -- along with his sex life -- is the first casualty in Spurlock's movie. The biggest lie of all is Spurlock's repeated claim that McDonald's has changed its menu as a result of his crusading expose.

And he brings up the fact (totally unknown to me) that the Competitive Enterprise Institute (where one of our blog compatriots once worked) did the same thing, except eating a more balanced and health-conscious menu from McDonald's, and actually lost weight and lowered their cholesterol. Read about it here.

Save the historic English pub! No more theme bars! Campaign for Real Ale has just completed a survey of London pubs and found that only 134 of 5,700 have "interiors of special historic interest." I am getting a terrible thirst.

Eurovision Song Contest

I noticed on BBC that they are asking for Eurovision 2004 song contest lyrics. Whenever I see this, for good or ill, I always think of the tv show Father Ted, when Ted and fellow Catholic priest Father Cilley submitted lyrics and won. The song was "My Lovely Horse":

My lovely horse running through the field,
Where are you going with your fetlocks blowing in the wind?
I want to shower you with sugarlumps,
And ride you over fences,
Polish your hooves every single day,
And bring you to the horse dentist,

My lovely horse,
You're a pony no more,
Running around with a man on your back,
Like a train in the night,
Like a train in the night.

I am laughing right now.

The Iron Lady is back. And listen (or read, as it were) to what Lady Thatcher, 25 years after her election as British PM, has to say:

"We are quite old. But we are still fighting ... the old ones are always the best".

"We even converted our opponents, but conversions of convenience rarely last and they start to go wrong. Left-wing politicians fall back on Left-wing remedies."

"They spend, they tax, they borrow - and as problems pile up they demand still more taxpayers' money, and then they demand another chance. But they don't deserve it and they mustn't get it."

"When you are in office, it is not enough to have the right intentions, although that helps. It is not enough to seek the best advice, although that is important. In the end, you have to believe in what you are doing and be able to carry the nation with you."

Does the world miss her or what? A giant among pygmies!