Archive Listing
July 2, 2012 - June 25, 2012

Wednesday, August 03, 2011

CAN WE CHANGE THE SUBJECT, B-MAN? Brizoni is suddenly interested only in women, unless it's just boobs instead. His prerogative. How about I talk about something less hormonal: cities.

I really wasn't going to mention the new ascendancy of the City of Brotherly Love in the world of sports. It's just sports, right?

Then I dipped into Netflix and found a new (old) entry in the Steven Bochco legal TV series opus called Philly. Which changed my mind.

There have been multiple Bochco shows. There was Hill Street Blues, NYPD Blue, and then Raising the Bar. The last was especially interesting. Heroic public defenders, whose clients were often (gasp) actually innocent. Mrs. CP and I liked the show, which actually seemed to shine a light on prosecutorial ruthlessness as a bane with some mitigating circumstances.

Philly is subtly different. Not much. But enough to be noticeable.  I had to double-check that the setting for Raising the Bar was New York City, but there's no doubt, obviously, in Philly. Early on, a weaselly prosecutor admits he lives for homicide trials, and the heroine responds, "You're in the right city." In Raising the Bar, the judges are eccentric, arbitrary, and pig-headed. In Philly, they're just pigs -- lewd, gross, and ethically despicable. In Raising the Bar, an ambitious assistant prosecutor has an ill-advised affair with a cop she comes to regret because it compromises her ethics and her case. In Philly, an assistant procecutor does a plea bargain on her back with a lothario defense attorney and smiles her way to their next tryst without a second of legal conscience. In Raising the Bar, the defendants always seem to have extenuating circumstances; in Philly. they're mostly playing their attorneys for fools, unless the attorneys play them first. As the title should make clear, the real villain of the show is Philly itself. The seat of everything awful in urban America.

For the record, I don't actually dislike the show. It's probably more accurate about the state of the justice system than Raising the Bar. Cities are villains; their politics are villainous. But why is it universally okay to make Philadelphia a scapegoat for phenomena that probably exist in every major urban center? Philadelphia reliably votes Democrat to an even higher degree than New York City. Why is it okay to dump on this particular city, by name, when New York gets, for the most part, a free pass?

Which leads me to the sports connection, not to mention a link to Brizoni's theorem: "That's this week's metaphor. Red overalls: The forehead-smackingly obvious thing you can't see because you've seen it your whole life. "

All opinion-shaping media originate in New York. If America has a Rome, it's not Washington, DC, it's Manhattan. It doesn't matter where you get your news or what news you think is important. The New York Times claims to speak for the nation, but their assumption is always that New York matters more, and the alphabet networks agree. The same, not irrelevantly, with ESPN, which is far more interested in the Yankees, Mets, Jets, and Giants than anyone else, unless perhaps it's their mirror selves in Los Angeles (like the ex-Brooklyn Dodgers). You're a Fox News guy, you say? I counted three consecutive stories on Fox & Friends this morning about New York teams -- on this supposedly national show -- including Rex Ryan's new leg tatttoo (yuck) and a soprano 10-year-old calling a Mets homerun from the broadcast booth (yawn), that were more important than the Phillies being the first team in the majors to win 70 games, putting them more than 30 games over .500.

The forehead-smackingly obvious thing you all know is that Philly has the worst fans in the world. Which says something important about how low, stupid, and contemptible Philadelphians must be. They booed Santa Claus. You all know that, right? Sure you do. Because ESPN keeps reminding you, and they speak for the common fans, right? Which also means that when the mere name of Philadelphia is used as a punchline signifying low behavior and corruption, you obediently laugh, right?

Right?

This isn't about what color pants Mario is wearing. It's about what you know that just ain't so. (Meaning no disrespect to Brzioni. He teed this conversation up. My appreciation for his insight.)

I'm NOT saying that sports is the whole measure of a city. But it's at least a clue to who the people are deep down. While ESPN continues to repeat the ancient shibboleths, professional athletes are flocking to Philadelphia, even though they could mostly get more money in New York. Roy Halladay. Cliff Lee. Roy Oswalt. Nnamda (called by one analyst the Peyton Manning of defense). Vince Young. The eager baseball throwback named Hunter Pence. Why? When they could all have gone to the Big Apple for more money?

It all has to do with what Philadelphia is, and what New York, despite its pretenses, is not.

New York is Rome. Lifelong Yankee fans can't afford to see a game at the new stadium. They have empty seats. Philadelphia Phillies seats are sold out game after game after after game after game. Plilly is a set of neighborhoods that extend far beyond the city proper. We love our teams. We cheer, we boo, we care, we are knowledgeable. And we are nationwide.

Check in on any game the Phillies are playing on the road. There's always a Phillies contingent, sometimes outnumbering the locals, as in the disgraceful Marlins and Nationals franchises. But you never hear of a frightening crime like the beating that occurred in Los Angeles of a Giants fan. At every home game the Phillies play, you can see Phillies jerseys flanked by opposing team jerseys -- Mets, Pirates, whatever -- with no sign of violence. They're usually sharing a beer and, given the usual outcome, commiseration. What other city in the United States would do what Philadelphia did for Harry Kalas? That's just love, pure and simple.

And, I'll suggest to you, that's Philadelphia. Not Rome. A blue collar town. Sure, we have rich people. But they don't think they own the whole world. They're content to have been the birthplace of it all.

So why isn't New York content? Why do they insist on pissing on Philadelphia, on convincing all of you that Philly is vile?

Because Philadelphia is the nearest living proof of their hubris. A great city that doesn't put on the same airs. Our baseball stars don't date supermodels, our football stars don't shoot themselves in strip clubs, and most of our sports icons, including even the hockey players, live quietly with their wives and families in New Jersey. Just folks.

The latest wrinkle is the Phillies effect. The Eagles have Phillies-envy. For years they've been in control of the salary cap. Now they've figured out that there's a simple way to repay their indefatigable fans: Win.

Which would be what? The American Way?

ANGLICANS 'R' US. SADLY  An odd day. Bracketed by thoughts of death and the afterlife.

I'm saddened by the fact that BalowStar no longer returns my calls. I'm pretty sure he didn't like this.

Ah well. I was never a conventional Christian. I came to it earlier than most. (Sorry, Brizoni.) (Sorry, Rob.)

Before either of you were born I was grappling with the problem of Judas. As early as the age of twelve. I couldn't figure it out. Without the betrayal, there is no crucifixion, no fulfillment of prophecy. Yet Jesus is God and Judas is man. Who is making the sacrifice here?

And so I have spent my whole life grappling with Christianity. Along the way, friends have found their own answers and turned away from me. Because they are righteous and I am somehow not. So be it.

But here's the truth of it. I may not have known whether I believed or not, but I have always had a vision of the Christ. I used to think he looked at me uniquely -- because I was young and full of myself. Now I know that all he was ever doing was giving me my own time and way to find him. Because he knew I was trying, looking, groping my way toward him.

I was cursed not with faith but intellect. This can't be so. He can't be so. Except there's no other explanation. If he didn't rise from the dead, there's no accounting for the the ascendancy of Christianity and its conquest of the world.

Stalemate. I believe, I don't believe. And yet there's no way Christianity exists at all if God didn't play his hand and change the world. Checkmate. History doesn't permit of any other interpretation. Christianity was the first and only religion Rome had to stamp out. When they couldn't, they finally embraced it.

Why I've written everything I've ever written. I've overcome the Judas problem. Christ was a quantum superposition. That this doesn't yet make me a Catholic is presumably a problem. Again. Sorry.

So today I began at six am with an on-demand viewing of the "40 Days" documentary done by the History Channel.

Meaning, what was Jesus doing in the six weeks between the resurrection and the ascension? It's a mystery. Catholics insist he was physically resurrected. The New Testament seems to indicate he was an altered, ephemeral being who could move through walls and vanish at a moment's notice. Which I can believe. But Catholics I know insist that we will all be revived, solid flesh, just as we were before. Like righteous zombies. Not buying it.

Then, sixteen hours later, I watched Bill Woodruff talk to people like himself who left their bodies and saw the afterlife, including some complacent atheists. Except you could see he wasn't buying their stories. He'd seen the divine. And he still wanted to get back to it.

In between -- from 7:30 am to 11:30 pm -- I saw the customary heartache of people fearing and avoiding death. (Yeah. Several soulless Obama speeches in there, courtesy of FNC.) The usual human condition.

You know what? I believe. Without the resurrection, there is no Christianity. And without quantum physics, there is no out-of-body mind experience. Deal with it.

Doesn't mean I have to be Roman Catholic. It just means I'm a Christian. And I think He knows I'm doing my best at that. In my poor, frail, pitiful way.

Tuesday, August 02, 2011

EXPANSON OF... "MIND" SPACE. I love these videos. Well, I like them. Disappointed the girl relies a bit too much on the original academic language and student-paper-speak instead of phrasing these concepts in plainer English. And though I'm fond of them, the boobs divert some of the mental energy I'd spend doing my own translating on the fly.

BUT. When I finally do parse the high-falootin-ness, I can tell she's done a masterful job of cutting down the extensive original text to its essential ideas. And I know a thing or two about editing.

Not to brag, but my world is filled with girls like this. Yours too, right?

Monday, August 01, 2011

IMPORTANT. Mr. and Mrs. CP lost a dog this weekend. If you haven't already, read the post below this one and send some love.

EXPANSION OF MINDSPACE. I was prowling through Shuteye Town 1999 this weekend when inspiration struck. The passage to blame:

­
The concept behind Metaphor Monday is simple and brilliant. If I do say so myself. And I do. Because modesty is lying.

If the Boss's theory of metaphor is right, and it is, then the more we understand, the more we can understand. The more varied the stuff in our minds, the more readily we can make sense of new stuff coming in. The more this we know, the more, and faster, that we can learn.

I propose we expand our mind space on purpose. I propose we put some theories, formulae, and stories in our heads solely for their potential conceptual value. An investment, a deposit in our memory banks.

An example: Before it slid into mere idiom, "red herring" was a potent metaphor (pun not intended, but I'll take whatever credit for it you're inclined to give). A red herring was a strong-smelling fish convicts would use to throw dogs off their scent. "Red" was distinctive because the fish got that color through the smoking and curing process that gave it said strong smell. Journalists and readers of detective fiction, when realizing a politician or writer had misdirected them, then-- to borrow Dr. Jaynes' phrase-- metaphied the idea of the red herring to describe what the malefactors had done. This-- being led to believe or expect one thing only to have a different thing be true-- is like That-- A tracking dog being made to follow one scent instead of another.

Recently I've come up with a metaphor of my own. I don't have a metaphrad-- that's the thing the metaphor is used to understand-- for it yet. But why wait?

I've been bedeviled by the art above, in one form or another, since early consciousness. If you're of a certain age, it'll stir the same feelings of nostalgia and youthful excitement in you that it does me. But take a closer look, with adult eyes:


Not... that great, is it? Love how that leg comes from the, uh, center of his torso. Uh. When we were kids, we never noticed when the box art was shoddy. Nintendo was too rad, too impressive, too legit for the thought to have even occured. But I guess the painting did the job, didn't it? To the target audience, it seemed like a noble expression of man's highest aspirations. Fat dude holding a turnip leaping many times his own height. When you're young, you don't need the symbolism explained.

Shortly after the release of Mario 2, Nintendo dispatched a staff artist ­to trace over the original painting, replace the turnip with a more iconic mushroom (because vegetables were only in Mario 2, duh), and keep the new cartoon near the top of the folder of promotional Mario images, from whence it would become the company's go-to stock Mario image. (or maybe the turnip painting came after the mushroom cartoon. Who knows)

A few months ago, I found what may be the most nostalgia-strong use of the image ever. If the Mario 2 box is nostalgia reefer, this is nostalgia crack:


From a 1989 Dr. Strange comic. Look at how much sheer past is present. The two Sears logos, one with the slogan you haven't heard or thought of since the very early 90s (is Sears still a thing? Haven't been to that corner of the mall this century). The "24hr. Toll Free" number in lieu of a website. The pre-Photoshop graphic design-- the Nintendo logo was clearly cut out by hand. The now-exorbitant prices for the games-- maybe a sealed copy of Zelda in mint condition would fetch more than 40 bucks in 2011. Maybe. I know I could get, like, twenty copies of Rambo on eBay for $34.95. They're good for skeet shooting.

Upon rediscovering this ad a few months ago, I hatched a scheme. Take ad to a good print shop, blow up to around 2 by 3 feet, sell prints online, light cigars with hundred-dollar bills for the rest of my life. Sadly, production turned out to be prohibitively expensive, and copyright law isn't quite as lenient as I thought. I never got past the first proof.


After the project ended, I framed the prototype and put it up on my living room wall. Looks sexy up there with those oversize print dots. My good buddy came over one weekend to play some Battletoads and try new beers. Naturally, he was super impressed with what I'd done. He had just one little observation. An observation that TURNED MY WORLD UPSIDE DOWN.

"Mario's overalls are the wrong color."

"Um, no they're not." "Oh, they so are." I looked again. Nothing seemed out of whack. "No, they're fine." So fine, in fact, I was getting very confused as to why he'd say they weren't. Was he trying to be funny? He usually doesn't miss the mark quite this wide. "They're blue, not red. See?" He handed me my copy of Mario Party 7.


My brain split open.

Mario has blue overalls. Has ever since, um, Mario 2. In the game, that is.


After that, on the box of Mario 3.


After that, everywhere ever since.

Of course Mario has blue overalls. Duh. DUH! Who ever heard of red overalls, anyway? But I'd been seeing that image of Mario in red for forever. I'm accustomed to it. It looks as normal and natural to me as the sky. I never, ever would have noticed the red overalls if they hadn't been pointed out to me.

That's this week's metaphor. Red overalls: The forehead-smackingly obvious thing you can't see because you've seen it your whole life.

Friday, July 29, 2011

WAKE UP, NEWENS. I'm not saying we can't win. I'm just being realistic about what we're dealing with in the current political environment. Which is not good.

I'm not going to provide a lot of links, if any. You have to do the work. Because you're going to have to do a lot of work in the next year or so if we're not to lose our nation.

I'm not going to connect all the dots for you, either. Another skill you're going to have to get better at. If you want to avoid total destruction.

Watched Hannity last night. He and Juan Williams screaming at one another -- after a poignant moment when Williams acknowledged Hannity had somehow divined his firing by NPR (the subject of his latest book). "Are you all right?" Hannity asked after a taping. Well, no, Williams wasn't all right. The two are obviously friends. But then they did a screaming match, and think about it. Juan Williams is a graduate of Haverford College and Hannity was a housepainter whose bio still contains no mention of a college degree. Why Hannity congratulated Williams on his friendly interview with Jon Stewart "even though he hates me."

Then the "Greatest American Panel" came to the point of a physical blow, as Patrick Caddell, a Carter-Democrat pollster who has frequently seemed to be half-Republican these days, was absolutely quivering with rage at the fumbling, lunk-headed behavior of the Republican house he called "childish," even as conservative Romneyite Hugh Hewitt absolutely refused to shut up long enough for him to make his point. Caddell went so far as to smack Hewitt's arm. (I'd have smacked his face, but that's just me.)

Michelle Bachmann keeps telling us in her reedy voice, "I have a titanium spine strong enough not to vote for raising the debt limit." Meanwhile, the MSM is feasting on the news that her husband thinks he can cure homosexuality with prayer. No, she doesn't have a titanium spine. We've learned she suffers from crippling migraines. It's stressful being a Christian icon, isn't it?

Also saw Rand Paul last night. On Fox News. They announced he'd be on after the commercial break. I turned to Mrs. CP and did his whole sing-song spiel almost word for word right, in advance of his actual appearance. Usually, Mrs. CP doesn't like it when I do that kind of thing. This time she had to admit I'd nailed it all except for my closing line, "Whatever Daddy says."

Cut to Big Hollywood, where they're all pumped about Sarah Palin's new movie, "The Undefeated." Even liberal critics are cutting the movie a break. Wow. Things are looking up, aren't they? No they aren't. Big Hollywood is an Andrew Breitbart site -- he's also got sites called Big Government, Big Journalism, and Big Conservative Delusions -- characterized by bold conservative mission statements and really really weak writing. Big Hollywood's managing editor, John Nolte, can't write a paragraph without some major grammatical error, and the site's reviews, which should be its main attraction from a conservative standpoint, always fumble and stumble through incoherent lead paragraphs designed to convince us of what(?), the intellectual bona fides of the reviewer (though they can't seem to spell bona fides correctly), while managing to convince us that the writer is too self-absorbed to be trusted. (Except for Kurt Loder. The best living movie reviewer.) Breitbart's whole 'new media empire' is put together with spit and glue and baling wire and hardly anyone who can actually write. The conservative existential fix in a nutshell.

Where were we? The Big Hollywood braintrust thinks Sarah Palin is overcoming her media tarring. No, she isn't. How did John McCain become the Republican candidate in 2008? The MSM pretended to like him. Until he got nominated. Same process is underway with Sarah Palin. The Dems want us to nominate her. She's their favorite 2012 presidential candidate because they're certain they can destroy her. Does John Nolte know it? NO.

How stupid are we?

We are very damn stupid when it comes to politics. I'm not saying there aren't smart Republicans. It's just that the Democrats have an almost insuperable edge in terms of resource allocation.

In the old days of European aristocracy, any family with three sons gave the eldest the title, the second was sent to the military, and the third to the priesthood. Now we have rich political families. The eldest inherits dad's senate seat, the second son goes to the mass media to fight for social justice, and the third becomes a professor at an Ivy League school near you.

And, yes, there's a Republican aristocracy, too, just as numerous and just as rich. But the eldest son goes to Wall Street as a banker, the second goes to Wall Street as a lawyer, and the third goes to Wall Street as a trader. Something we might characterize as a brain drain.

Which leaves us with what? A mass media empire that can give Barack Obama a 15 to 20 point propaganda advantage in any election, while we try to counter it with sincere but dim graduates of Oral Roberts, the Barbizon Christian Barber College, the Stillwater State Graduate Business School, rich Mormons who are too friendly and virtuous to be anything but creepy, and balding, toupeed, sometimes overly bronzed white male Middle American Babbits who never quite seem to understand what a killer instinct their 'betters' across the aisle were born with. And, of course, the purely crazy ones.

Why do I always have to be embarrassed when a Republican politician speaks? Their mushmouthed southern accents. Their dopey gaffes. Their determination to interpret opposition contempt as a conversation that needs to be rejoined more productively.

I cringe when a Democrat politician speaks. He (or she) always knows the talking points, is always on message, always a demagogue. Vicious. And always forgiven by the interviewer.

Republicans? "Uh, I didn't mean to say that, I was misquoted, I resign for the good of my family."

Democrats? "I can't believe this party's obsession with returning to slavery, the death of small children through tiny cuts in the school lunch program, and the desire to subject women to the 'barefoot and pregnant' ideal of the Reagan administration. And I've already apologized for my own sexual indiscretions, so let's move on, shall we?"

To use Brizoni's locution: Really? Really?

But at the end of their screaming match, during which Juan Williams essentially accused Sean Hannity of all these positions, Hannity shook hands with him and then tossed his goddam football. Williams is still on message, delivering his talking points. Hannity is still a black Irish radio bumpkin with a low forehead. And the Dems pretend to be afraid of Fox?

Tell me what you're prepared to do not to play the fool for another season.

Wake up, kiddies. You don't win by throwing a tantrum. Not against these guys.

A BRIGHT SIDE. InstaPunk is not a funny video site. We are here to discuss issues of the day, not giggle like stoned teenagers at YouTubes of other stoned teenagers lighting their crotches on fire, and then their stoned teenage friends put the fire out by stomping on it, thereby stomping on his balls a bunch as well. Maybe I can justify showing this... this with an anecdote.

A few years back, I heard a radio interview with a vomit fetishist (stay with me). The 21st century is the Age of the Unfettered Fetish, and this guy was out and proud as loving to get puked on. Most illuminating part of the freakshow (the only illuminating part. I won't lie, I wasn't in this for the edification) came when vomit dude explained that he had to shut his porn site down because he was only ever contacted by three guys who were into it as well. Not a large market.

Think about this. He wasn't leaving mimeographed bile erotica at truck stops in 1989 and then sitting by the phone crossing his fingers that some like-minded degenerate would call the 900 number in the letterhead. He was on the internet.­ Civilization's newly-opened steam valve on thousands of years of taboo. Remember when pot was kind of an underground thing? Remember when you could never find yourself accidentally reading an essay by Lyndon LaRouche? Remember when you had never seen even a picture of a dead body, outside of a war textbook? Now I can pull up, within seconds, crime scene photos of Jeff Dahmer's fridge on my phone to settle a bet. And every kink you can think of, even as solely an exercise in grotesqueness, already has a community devoted to it. That's an acknowledged fact. Quantum physics writ large (if you get that pun, I say to you NERRRRRD). Every perfect has joined perverted forces with every other brother in perversion.

Even with that internet, vomit guy only found three other vomit guys. The moral of the story? There are limits to human depravity. Even now.

We see the Paris Hiltons and Amy Winehouses (remember when you had to be good to get into Club 27?) of our popular consciousness and despair for our young girls. Good news: It's not all of them. It's not even a lot of them. Judging by her seven-minute "PSA," Courtney Stodden is the only one like her in her town. Only the dumb girls aspire to plastic tits and thousand dollar wigs for their rat-sized dogs. Yes, one is too many, I agree. But take heart. Humanity's innate desire for self-respect isn't so easily extinguished. Tiny ember of hope.

I'll leave you with our 16-year-old superstar's empower ballad "Don't Put it On Me." That's "On," folks. On. When you're plotting strategies for the coming battles of the next 18 months, take a moment now and then to think of this song. Then think of the young girls you know who aren't "inspiring" [sic] to keep it rill. You'll smile when you realize who's the exception and who's the rule.


P.S. On the off chance there's a gal who doesn't already know: If you're out with your man and he cranes his neck to gawk at a Stodden type who "be poppin"? Dump him. On the spot. Don't wait for an explanaiton. None is possible. Don't burn any emotional calories over him. Shake his hand, say "We're done here," and walk away. Just like that.

Thursday, July 28, 2011

THE NORWAY THING. Our new friend J.W. Helkenberg didn't volunteer to do it. But The Old Man asked him to. So he blew the dust off his dual pistols, which he keeps in a velvet-lined case under the futon in his spartan quarters, and dispatched commenter Jack with what seemed to be unlimited ammo.

We're impressed. So impressed, in fact, that we've decided to recognize Helk's completed contract with a post.

Helk responded to Jack twice, but I've only included the second response, because it covers most of the ground of the first. And I've reformatted it for visual clarity. Quotes from Jack in italic, Helk in "plain" text.


What we are talking about here is ...

This line of thinking leads absolutely no where. Let's say the Norwegian authorities had taken a sudden interest in defusing anti-immigrant sentiments, beyond fostering a culture of tolerance (which is, apparently, distasteful ).

Not distasteful, dangerous.

They would have done . . . what, exactly? Posted guards outside youth camps and mosques? Cracked down on right-wing groups (a move which I'm sure would've been received well by those now labeling Norwegians as "soft")? Ban the Progress Party? Restrict immigration? Construct Fortress Norway? What?

They would have prepared their armed forces for a rapid response. I am saying that the lack of response is an indication of a lack of preparedness. A lack of conceptualizing the threat (due to blissful ignorance) leads to a boatload of Norwegian police sinking on the way to the island. It leads to not a single helicopter being available to intercede in the situation. It leads to a 90 minute response time. I think the killer actually just got bored (or horrified) with the killing, and just quit on his own. It wasn't like he burnt through all his ammunition.

"Norway - home of the *real* Vikings. Need I say more?"

Yes, you do. You're making assumptions regarding Norway's role in the Cold War without any supporting evidence.

OK, I can offer some supporting evidence. (I said I would if you *needed it*)

In the immediate post-war years Norway maintained a very low profile in foreign policy. The country hoped to remain outside the power blocks and likely areas of conflict. Norway put great hope in the United Nations and in fact the UN's first Secretary General, Trygve Lie was a Norwegian.

Global politics prevented this and as East/West tensions built up Norway was ***forced*** to come firmly down in the western military camp. Although relatively unscathed, Norway still benefited from the American Marshall Programme. Initially a reluctant recipient, Norway eventually received 2.5 thousand million kroner between 1948 and 1951.

There is more, more, more. I can bring it. Do you want it?

You're assuming (as is TP, whom you quote to support this assertion) that Norwegians were, in their impotence and apathy, content to sit back and relax and let the U.S. assume the burden of defending it. Which in itself implies that Norway made absolutely no contribution to its own defense or to NATO (of which it is a founding member).

No, wrong on two counts. First, I am not saying they did absolutely nothing, they *acceded to* US protection. Second, Norway is not a founding member of NATO. At all. "Following an abortive attempt to create a Nordic Defence Alliance, Norway, along with Denmark, joined NATO in 1949." [cite]

"They avoided considering the possibility that Hitler would invade,... er, I mean, that a homegrown maniac would kill a bunch of leftist children at a *VIP-studded* leftist retreat located on, you guessed it, a relatively remote island."

I wish you would've alerted the proper authorities ahead of time, if you were so aware of this possibility. But wait, according to you they couldn't have actually known. Or something:

"This is not to say that the name, date and time could have been known in advance, not at all. Only that the character and nature of the crime was already being predicted by people in Norway (and elsewhere). They knew it was inevitable, but they preferred to live in blissful ignorance."

Names, quotes, anything. Please.

Here you go: "According to Aftenposten, the Norwegian Army base at Meymaneh is amongst the least secure bases in Afghanistan, the base is less secure than other bases belonging to the International Security Assistance Force (ISAF)." [cite]

OK. Aftenposten is a Norwegian newspaper. Lack of security being, apparently, a Norwegian *thing*, the newspaper decided to point it out to it's citizens. Maybe in an attempt to alert people that Norway was living in a state of blissful ignorance.

More:

Norway's anti-immigrant Progress Party won 23 percent of the vote in the last elections in 2009. [cite]

and

"In 2011 we expect their activity to contribute to steering the public debate in the direction of increased xenophobic sentiments. This could contribute to an increased polarization within and between extremist groups in Norway. Increased activism among Norwegian anti-Islamic organizations can however also increase the use of violence in such groups, particularly in connection with demonstrations and commemorations." [cite, read the whole thing]

So the word was out, but nobody was *preparing* for the eventuality. Or, if they were, they forgot to include boat and helicopter preparedness in their training materials.

"There is a new purity movement, whether anybody wants to admit it or not. This nutjob Breivik did nothing to improve the (extremist) anti-immigrant platform, in fact he might have squelched it."

So there is a "purity movement" afoot, but Breivik has undermined it and possibly "squelched it." Is this a bad thing? Did this "purity movement" have any validity in the first place? Aren't Breivik's actions merely the inevitable product of such a movement, as you've implied?

I said nothing to indicate that this is a bad or good thing, only that it will have an impact. And it has had an impact. And as far as Breivik's actions being inevitable, refer to the link [above] (to wit, "In 2011 we expect their activity to contribute to steering the public debate in the direction of increased xenophobic sentiments.")

Again, I am neither defending nor attacking the 'purity movement' I am merely pointing out that it has been adequately detailed by the Norwegian press (and 'secret police'). And by adequately detailed I mean to state that there has been ample evidence to suggest that Norway is *vulnerable* to home-grown fanaticism.

"Now, think about that. This guys actions may actually result with a greater influx of Muslim immigrants. And so I guess I would say that, in the end, the Norwegians will likely get more of the same. And, by degrees, they will watch as unfamiliar customs slowly come to dominate their (native) culture."

So Norway, which is (or isn't; I'm not exactly sure what you think it is) a supposed bastion of right-wing, anti-immigrant extremism, is now *more appealing* to Muslim immigrants?

I never said bastion - which would imply it is a majority position - and I did not say "more appealing." I said that the resistance to immigration might be squelched. Because people who resist immigrants don't want to be aligned with Breivik. For now.

Oh, and please stop with the "Eurabia" nonsense. I'm willing to wager that Norway's Muslim population (which constitutes all of 2-4% of the total) is and will never possess the capabilities to undermine Norwegian culture or whatever.

Well, despite the lack of Muslim critical mass (in terms of modifying Norwegian culture), the presence of immigrants has led directly to this mass killing. Now, I don't blame* immigrants (in the sense of intent), but Breivik didn't go on a killing spree *just because*. He went on a killing spree to launch an anti-immigrant European war. Now, however far-fetched that is, it is a *direct result* of the Muslim presence in Norway. So is it unsafe to presume (based on secret police disclosures among other things) that an increased Muslim presence is somehow *not* going to lead to more frequent hostilities?

Here's a synopsis of your argument: Breivik, who's representative of a larger movement, has, through his actions, discredited the (apparently legitimate) anti-immigrant platform.

Not discredited, embarrassed.

Thus, more Muslims will immigrate to Norway, which in turn will precipitate more attacks (from a movement which has been "squelched," remember), and eventually Norwegian culture will somehow collapse entirely in the face of the foreign hordes.

They (Norwegians) will lose their capacity to live in blissful ignorance (just like a woman loses her capacity to walk (comfortably) alone at night following being raped). You cannot go back to a time before. You must accept the new facts. Norway has been (mentally and spiritually) raped by a violent mass murderer who desired to start a Pan-European anti-immigrant war.

Airtight logic, there.

Finally, credit where credit is due.



[ED: The Boss has also closed this comment thread in the original piece, thusly:

Helk:

All right. Let him go. You have proven what needed to be proven: he can never quite agree to disagree because he just MUST be right, even if he has had to concede point after point, including the ultimately rational basis of your argument.

Throughout, the intent is to keep driving for finer and finer points of dispute so that the larger context will ultimately be lost or become irrelevant.

Prime example in the latest response. Norway's unpreparedness was analogous to U.S. unpreparedness for 9/11. The "Everybody fucks up" argument.

Only problem -- 9/11 was a worldwide wakeup call. It was followed by terrorist attacks in London and Madrid. When your friends and neighbors have been assaulted and murdered, it's simply negligence not to be ready with the best emergency response you can muster.

Splitting and resplitting and re-resplitting hairs doesn't change the point of the original post one bit. It simply seeks to obscure it.

For no discernible reason other than the need to counter a bold statement by someone who must, by virtue of his political affiliations, be wrong, stupid, ill-informed or prejudiced.

Recall that the debate here began with a series of name-calling attacks [by Jack on me]. That's the only rationale for the respond, respond, respond, respond mentality we've seen on a topic that ultimately isn't that important, unless it's an ego issue for the commenter.

I declare this debate done, this comment thread closed. I started it with an opinionated essay I see no reason to retract. I asked Helk to see how far it would go. He's done that.

It's gone way too far. Truth. Helk wasn't particularly invested in the debate. It's just that he can do this kind of argumentation in his sleep.

What have we learned? Ego will drive you onto a dangerous limb attached to increasingly frail branches and even twigs if you lose sight of the main point in pursuit of just having to prove that you're somehow smarter.

Nobody is smarter than Helk. And nobody has less ego involved.

Funny how that works, isn't it?

Can we be done with it now? Norway is just great, has no big questions to ask itself, and they can be satisfied, like all liberals, that their good intentions are all that's required in a purely accidentally dangerous world.

As to the dead ones? Well, they're dead, aren't they? And won't be heard from again.

Congratulations, Jack. We're all in, uh, awe of your brilliance.]

DUMB IS DUMBERER. Why does Charles Krauthammer look so sour?


Because Republicans are on the verge of blowing their huge advantage against Barack Obama.

The confrontation about the debt limit was a good idea. It exposed the inflexibility of the president, who cannot bring himself to compromise his anti-capitalist ideology even when the fiscal viability of the nation is at stake.

The whole country has seen that he cannot propose his own plan, nor can his party, if the simple question is asked, "How can we reduce spending so that $40 dollars of every $100 we spend is borrowed, in perpetuity?"

But let's not forget that this has always been a game of "chicken." Who will blink first? Who will drive off into the ditch before the Mutually Assured Destruction of a head-on collision? The people are now well able to see that the Democrats have no intention of reducing spending under any circumstances. Point made.

And point made was always the best possible outcome in a political structure that gives Democrats control of both the senate and the White House as compared to Republican control of the House of Representatives. That's it. Game over. Time to raise the debt limit and attack, attack, attack the Democrats in the 2012 election.

Here's the irony that fills me with despair. The Tea Party freshmen in the house were elected as representatives in a representative democracy. Their job is to do the right thing, whether their constituents agree or not. Isn't that the ultimate definition of citizen politicians? You didn't elect us to follow your kneejerk reactions but to serve the nation. And we're perfectly content to be voted out of office if you don't finally approve of our votes.

Still waiting for the irony? Here it is. The Tea Party caucus which insists it's okay to let the U.S. go into a state of at least technical default are -- by this exact positioning -- proving that they are already pure politicians, determined to hang onto their seats regardless of national impacts of their votes. Their seeming principled opposition on this issue is actually proof that they've already sold out.

Point made, goddammit. The debt limit has been raised dozens of times over the years. Yes, there was value in objecting this time. But what's the mission? To regain control of the U.S. government, meaning the presidency and the senate.

So the senate has passed nothing. The president has proposed nothing. There hasn't even been a federal budget during the Obama administration. What more do you want? The only reason not to pass some kind of even relatively clean bill raising the debt limit is to protect individual asses in the House of Representatives.

I'm thoroughly pissed off. I'm done with all righties who insist there's no penalty to pay for the nation if the world thinks we can't pay our debts or can't forestall a downgrade of our credit rating, which wouldn't have been a possibility at all if we hadn't made such an enormous issue of it in the first place.

I'm old enough to be sick to death of the win-it-all or lose-it-all strategy. If the dollar ceases to be the curency of first resort in the world, we will all suffer. Interest rates will rise, inflation will increase, and all the little people the Tea Partiers claim they care for will be thrust into a world of diminished purchasing power and escalating penury. Why? To prove a point? To take an axe to a situation that begs for actual intelligence rather than a mindless inflexibility that reminds me of nothing so much as Obama's obsession with corporate jets?

Frankly, I'm done with most of the Republican field. This isn't what I signed up for.

My candidate for the Republican presidential nomination right now? Evan Bayh.

Yeah. A Democrat Why? Obama must be defeated. He's destroying the United States of America. But so are all the suddenly heedless libertarians who think they just might possibly win the 2012 election by pissing in everybody's bathwater in the name of ideological purity.

Oh. Okay. Here's the beginning of what Charles Krauthammer has to say:


He's kinder than I am. Because he has a stomach ache. I don't. I have full on nausea.

(Sorry about your 36-hour jibe yet, Pete? You should be.)

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