Enter: Extra Pound

Extra Pound: The Baby

There once was a baby named "Pound,"
Who grew up to go pal around
With far-right-wing reds
So out of their heads
They knew not their ass from a hole in the ground!

David Garrett Izzo and Lincoln Konkle on Stephen Vincent Benét's Anti-Fascism

Amazon

David Garrett Izzo and Lincoln Konkle, the editors of Stephen Vincent Benét: Essays on His Life and Work (McFarland, 2002), also contributed the book's final essay, "Benét as Dramatist for Stage, Screen, and Radio" (pages 215-232), which has this to say about Benét's opposition to fascism:

During the late 1930s Benét, just as many other Americans, was alarmed at the tragedy of fascism in Asia and Europe. He took seriously his role as national spokesperson and began to write poems and stories as warnings to the American people. Among these were "The Blood of the Martyrs," "Into Egypt," "The Last of the Legions," "Nightmare at Noon," and "By the Waters of Babylon," the last of which is credited by science-fiction historians as establishing many of the conventions of stories about a future world of survivors after an apocalyptic war . . . . Benét wished to reach more Americans and realized radio was the way. In those pre-television days, radio had as devoted audiences as TV does now. Benét's poems and stories were read over the air and heard by millions. His good friend, the poet Archibald MacLeish, had written three plays just for radio, and encouraged Benét to do the same. What followed would be the most astonishing output of original works for radio by a literary author ever produced, and more importantly, ever listened to over a four-year period. Benét was a natural writer for radio. As Norman Rosten says in his foreword to the published radio scripts, "Steve Benét had that gather-ye-round quality, and the folks sure did gather when he spoke!" . . . His mastery of poetry and the short story suited the need for compactness with a singular effect; his reputation as a man of conscience and a patriot who loved his country was exactly right for an America facing the threat of fascism that was already producing killing fields abroad. But, as Rosten points out, writing "[p]ropaganda was nothing new to [Benét]. He was always selling Americans the idea of America" . . . .

Izzo and Konkle note that the public response to Benét's works for radio was extraordinary, for letters and telegrams poured in after his broadcasts, expressing gratitude. While I ordinarily find politically motivated literature rather bad literature, I find that Benét wrote propaganda that is also very fine literature. Apparently, he was such a sincere nationalist that he wrote about exactly what inspired him to support 'Americanism' and oppose fascism.

Unfortunately, he did not get to see the American victory over fascism, nor was he to continue his inspiring broadcasts, for he died in 1943, at the young age of 44.

Stephen Vincent Benét's Anti-Fascism

Google Images

"The Blood of the Martyrs" was the second story in Stephen Vincent Benét's 1937 collection, Thirteen O'Clock: Stories of Several Worlds, and - warning, plot spoilers! - it tells the story of an apolitical biochemist named Malzius in an unnamed country, possibly an Eastern European one, who has been arrested and tortured to determine if he is truly apolitical, and being found to be so, he is offered by the dictator his laboratory and position back if he agrees to also become a spokesperson for the state and use his weight as a famous scientist toward the support of the regime and its political ideology, but he then thinks of all the young men who come from around the world to study under him and who do so because of his reputation as a rigorously honest scientist:

He paused again, seeing their faces before him. There were many. There was Williams, the Englishman, who had died in the war, and little Gregopolous with the fox-terrier eyes. There were all who had passed through his classrooms, from the stupidest to the best. They had shot little Gregopolous for treason, but that did not alter the case. From all over the world they had come - he remembered the Indian student and the Chinese. They wore cheap overcoats, they were hungry for knowledge, they ate the bad, starchy food of the poor restaurants, they had miserable little love affairs and played childish games of politics, instead of doing their work. Nevertheless, a few were promising - all must be given the truth. It did not matter if they died, but they must be given the truth. Otherwise there could be no continuity and no science.

He looked at the Dictator before him - yes, it was a hysteric face. He would know how to deal with it in his classroom - but such faces should not rule countries or young men. One was willing to go through a great many meaningless ceremonies in order to do one's work - wear a uniform or salute or be president of the Academy. That did not matter; it was part of the due to Caesar. But not to tell lies to young men on one's own subject. After all, they had called him The Bear . . . . They had given him their terrible confidence - not for love or kindness, but because they had found him honest. It was too late to change.

Though surrounded by military men, he nevertheless resists:

Professor Malzius stood, his fingers gripping the big, old-fashioned inkwell. It was full of ink - the servants of the Dictator were very efficient. They could shoot small people with the eyes of fox terriers for treason, but their trains arrived on time and their inkwells did not run dry.

"The state," he said, breathing. "Yes. But science does not know about states. And you are a little man - a little, unimportant man."

Then, before the General could stop him, he had picked up the inkwell and thrown it in the Dictator's face. The next moment the General's fist caught him on the side of the head and he fell behind the desk to the floor. But lying there, through his cracked glasses, he could still see the grotesque splashes of ink on the Dictator's face and uniform, and the small cut above his eye where the blood was gathering. They had not fired; he had thought he would be too close to the Dictator for them to fire in time.

"Take that man out and shoot him. At once," said the Dictator in a dry voice. He did not move to wipe the stains from his uniform—and for that Professor Malzius admired him. They rushed then, each anxious to be first. But Professor Malzius made no resistance.

Rather, he made no further resistance. No more was needed.

This story by Benét demonstrates his anti-fascist views as early as 1937, such views being perhaps an outgrowth of his Americanism, but also shaped no doubt by his study abroad in Europe.

Inexplicable Data on Hate?

Seth Stephens-Davidowitz
NYT

Seth Stephens-Davidowitz is an economist with a PhD from Harvard (2013), and he offers some intriguing facts on Stormfront users in his article "The Data of Hate" (NYT, July 12, 2014). What's Stormfront, you ask? This:

Stormfront was founded in 1995 by Don Black, a former Ku Klux Klan leader. Its most popular "social groups" are "Union of National Socialists" and "Fans and Supporters of Adolf Hitler" . . . . The white nationalist posters on Stormfront have issues with many different groups. They often write about crimes committed by African-Americans against whites; they complain about an "invasion" of Mexicans; and they love to mock gays and feminists. [They find Asians "repulsive," though also seem to envy them.] But their main problem appears to be with Jewish people, who are often described as super-powerful and clever -- the driving force, generally speaking, behind the societal changes they do not like.

One might therefore expect Stormfront users to be uneducated. Not so:

The top reported interest of Stormfront members is "reading." Most notably, Stormfront users are news and political junkies. One interesting data point here is the popularity of The New York Times among Stormfront users. According to the economists Matthew Gentzkow and Jesse M. Shapiro, when you compare Stormfront users to people who go to the Yahoo News site, it turns out that the Stormfront crowd is twice as likely to visit nytimes.com.

Dr. Stephens-Davidowitz admits to being baffled:

Perhaps it was my own naïveté, but I would have imagined white nationalists' inhabiting a different universe from that of my friends and me . . . . Why do some people feel . . . [hatred toward African-Americans, Mexicans, gays, feminists, Asians, and Jews, among other groups?] I have pored over data of an unprecedented breadth and depth, thanks to our new digital era. And I can honestly offer the following answer: I have no idea.

Maybe he should ask them. They seem to have given some reasons. Concerns about the crime rate among African-Americans. Concerns about illegal immigration from Latin America being out of control. Those are two genuine issues, whatever one's stance might be. But what about gays and feminists? Dr. Stephens-Davidowitz writes only that Stormfront users "mock" these two groups. He might consider these points: gay rights are a topical issue, as the debate over homosexual marriage shows, and feminism is widely perceived by many men as being an anti-male ideology. As for beliefs about Asians and Jews, the view that they are "super-powerful and clever" -- a belief Dr. Stephens-Davidowitz cites about Jews, but it also tends to be a belief about East Asians -- might stem from the fact that both Asians and Jews are statistically over-represented in positions of power and prestige.

But why the hatred expressed toward these groups? From the points just noted, we might hypothesize that each of these hated groups represents ways in which white nationalists feel that they have lost control over their country. But why the hatred? Dr. Stephens-Davidowitz seems to assume that hatred is an unnatural emotion, one that requires an explanation. But what if that's incorrect? What if it's people's default position when confronted by difference?

What if hatred is easy?

Gypsy Scholar: Fraudulent 'Genocidal' Blogger

Scholar and his Books

Gerbrand van den Eeckhout (1621-1674)

Wikipedia

I received a sharp if misguided reprimand yesterday from a conveniently anonymous critic who came riding up on his high horse and dispensing 'just' judgment against me on a blog post dedicated to my recently deceased Uncle Bill Hodges:

I came to your page trying to find scholarly articles on 'Gypsies', turns out you are just a fraud. For all your education you're surprisingly ignorant.

Thanks for the cultural genocide.

Taken aback, initially, at the accusation that I pose an existential threat to the Romani people, I collected myself and replied:

Nice comment to leave on a blog entry commemorating a good man's death.

As for your intemperate remarks, I suggest that you familiarize yourself with the expression "gypsy scholar," which is a well-known label for a scholar without tenure who moves from university to university in search of jobs. There are a lot of us.

When you're no longer ignorant of the expression and its meaning, you'll not further embarrass yourself in future encounters with gypsy scholars, nor will you continue to make ridiculous accusations of "fraud" and of "cultural genocide."

On the implausible possibility that my anonymous critic is lurking, willing to listen, and open to learning something new, a professional explanation of the expression is hereby provided:

Gypsy scholar: is an informal term given to some academics who either move several times between institutions and/or work at two or more institutions at a time. There are several possible reasons explaining the existence of gypsy scholars, among these are the fact that many teaching jobs are now either part-time or terminal (1-3 years), with tenure-track positions harder to secure, and also a high cost of housing and living. The latter appears to have become a fairly common situation in California, where the price of housing has skyrocketed (as of 2005).

We see, then, that I am the one facing an existential threat! The outraged fellow, for his part, did not respond to my reply to his comment, nor do I expect a reply to this post. No anonymous commentator need ever apologize for rudeness or false accusations -- that's the beauty of anonymity.

This particular anonymous, frustrated commentator, angered -- in his ignorance of a well-known English expression -- at failing to find what he had wrongly expected, finds himself instead aggrieved at my putative, inadvertent 'slight' against his profound misunderstanding of English and rouses himself in righteous anger to a peak fit for a fit of pique, all the wilder for its unmeasured animosity, so exaggerated as to accuse me -- despite my obvious scholarly isolation, my lonely academic wanderings -- of "cultural genocide"!

Thus have I single-handedly disposed of Romani culture, something not even the National Socialists managed to do. In the mind of my anonymous critic with a grievance, I'm obviously not a gypsy scholar, but rather a fascistic activist . . .

Puzzling Gertrude Stein: A Year and a Day of "Sacred Emily"?

Gertrude Stein

National Post

A graduate student whom I know introduced me to Gertrude Stein's poem "Sacred Emily," a 367-line poem of obscurity if I ever read one! Exactly 367 puzzling lines like "Electrics are tight electrics are white electrics are a button" and "Rose is a rose is a rose is a rose." I know the poem is precisely 367 lines because the student mentioned the fact. I know further because I've counted. Twice. Why? Because I wondered if it were actually 365 or 366, either of which might signify one exact year. But it's 367 lines. Why? A year and a day? Does it start out on January 1st and end on January 1st the next year? An entire year and a new beginning? I searched to see if any scholar had written on this but found nothing.

On an distantly 'unrelated' note, I came across an article that goes with the above photo of Stein wearing a rare smile: "Tender buttons to push: Gertrude Stein's overlooked political past" (National Post, October 18, 2011), by Robert Fulford, who -- prompted by Barbara Will's Unlikely Collaboration: Gertrude Stein, Bernard Faÿ and the Vichy Dilemma (Columbia University Press, 2011) -- asks a very good question:

Among the facts most people know about Ezra Pound, his attraction to Italian fascism and his hysterical anti-Semitism rank near the top of the list, whatever his accomplishments as a poet. Those who revere Martin Heidegger's philosophy aren't allowed to forget that he passionately identified with Hitler. Art lovers who admire Filippo Marinetti, the founder of the Italian Futurist school, know that he was also a propagandist for Mussolini.

There are other poets and philosophers and high-grade intellectuals who spent decades of the 20th century in thrall to fascism or communism. The intersection of art and totalitarianism is a dangerous site for reputations. Anyone studying modern culture arrives reluctantly yet inevitably at this hard truth.

But Gertrude Stein? She rarely appears in that light. Among the millions who know about her, who can [mis]quote "A rose is a rose is a rose" and even make a stab at defining its meaning, very few understand that her political record is shadowed by fascist connections . . . .

Stein, while a modernist in literature, saw herself as a conservative[, was a friend of the Nazi collaborationist Bernard Faÿ,] and believed France should be conservative. The most powerful right-wing publicist was Faÿ’s friend, Charles Maurras, who believed France had been degraded by Jews, Freemasons, Protestants and foreigners.

How could Stein, a foreigner as well as a Jew, maintain genial relations with people holding that view?

How indeed? It is inexplicable. But historical truth is often ineluctable, particularly the historical truth of personal motivations to people's actions, and emphatically so with such a puzzler of poetic puzzles as the affable, ineffable Gertrude Stein.

Paul Berman on Globalizing "The Thought Police"

Blasphemy
The New Republic

Paul Berman, who has previously investigated Islamist ties to fascist thought and totalitarian movements, has a new essay published on Islamism, "The Thought Police" (The New Republic, March 14, 2012), in which he reviews the book Silenced: How Apostasy and Blasphemy Codes Are Choking Freedom Worldwide, by Paul Marshall and Nina Shea. For the most part, he praises their book and agrees with their analysis that Islamism is winning in the Muslim world -- and also in the non-Muslim world. But for what reason is Islamism winning?

[The reason] is systematic intimidation. The radicals, who are perfectly happy to argue in a conventional manner, are equally happy, should argument fail, to enforce through violence.

They use extreme violence, or at least its threat, to enforce silence not only in Muslim lands, but globally. Berman summarizes the past couple of decades, in which this global force has revealed itself:

The more expansive rethinking [of Islamists in their attempt to impose aspects of sharia on non-Muslims globally] emerged only in the course of the Rushdie affair in 1988–1989, when Ayatollah Khomeini and other leaders judged that corporal retribution for the satanic act of writing and publishing The Satanic Verses should be meted out even to Rushdie's publishing houses, translators, and booksellers in all parts of the world, unto California, which experienced an arson, and Japan, which saw a murder. The Age of the Rushdie Affair, having gotten under way, has not yet come to an end. Marshall and Shea summarize some of its continuing manifestations: the murder of Theo van Gogh, the Dutch filmmaker, on an Amsterdam street in 2004; the response to a dozen Danish cartoons in 2005 lampooning Islamic terrorism, which generated mass demonstrations, riots, and arson attacks and, all in all, 241 deaths around the world; the repeated attempts to murder the Danish cartoonist Kurt Westergaard, who drew the most pointed and memorable of the cartoons (the one depicting Muhammad with a bomb tucked into his turban), with would-be assassins arrested as far away as Chicago; the response to Benedict XVI's lecture at Regensburg, Germany, in 2006, which led to the murder of Christians in Iraq and Somalia and to bombings and shootings aimed at Christian centers in Gaza and the Palestinian West Bank.

Berman continues in this vein for several more paragraphs and concludes: "There are far too many of these incidents and unhappy life-stories to dismiss the lot of them as a marginal phenomenon." He then speaks of his pessimism about the Arab Spring, and readers of this blog will know that I share his pessimism, but he expresses it far better than I, so read his article.

On one point of his argument, however, I have some doubts. Relying upon Paul Marshall and Nina Shea, Berman appears to think that Islam's political dimension can be excised from its religious dimension. He cites three liberal Muslim scholars, the late, former president of Indonesia Abdurrahman Wahid, the late Egyptian scholar of literature Nasr Hamid Abu-Zayd, and the Maldivean professor in exile Abdullah Saeed, all three of whom argue that the current Islamist political movements are incompatible with various humanist traditions going back to Islam's medieval Golden Age. There's undoubtedly something to this argument, for there was a Golden Age, though I suspect that its golden shine was gild more than gold and its achievements due less to Islam itself and more due to an incomplete process of Islamization.

Why are the Islamists winning the argument among Muslims despite some 'humanist' traditions? Perhaps because their own traditions are deeper? Perhaps because they can point to an origin in which their religious founder and model for conduct was a man who combined the roles of prophet, general, and king? Perhaps because Islam has an affinity for totalitarian systems and for that reason flirted with the early twentieth-century fascism and now flirts with a left also restrictive of free speech? These are questions that have to be taken seriously even if Islam does have a few more enlightened traditions.

Jonathan Dee: Little Green Footballs and the 'Missing Link'

Little Green Footballs

Blogger: Charles Johnson

Photo by Zach Johnsen

(Image from New York Times)

Jonathan Dee, writing in his recent article "Right-Wing Flame War!" (January 21, 2010) for The New York Times, has analyzed a cultural crackup that split rightwing blogs into warring camps two years ago. This rightwing kulturkampf was initiated by Charles Johnson when he accused a number of rightwing bloggers of fascistic tendencies because they were 'linked' with individuals whom Johnson considered fascists. There is some irony in this, for Johnson's own blog, Little Green Footballs, was often itself accused of post-9/11 fascism for what many considered its shrill nationalism, its contempt for Muslims, and its inflammatory language:

If the tone of Johnson's writing on the blog sometimes bordered, as his detractors claimed, on hate speech, that of his mostly anonymous commenters was reliably worse. A popular blog like L.G.F. functions as a kind of cloud-sourced id. It is not uncommon for a simple, 200-word post to accrue upward of a thousand written responses from readers. The question of how responsible he is, or should be, for these expressions of uncensored reader sentiment is one that Johnson, like many bloggers, has struggled with; but in the middle years of the last decade, whether for free-speech reasons or simply because he enjoyed being the popular focal point of such strong nationalist feeling, he did very little to rein it in. Muslims were described as "vermin." The posthumous nickname St. Pancake was coined for the young American pro-Palestinian activist Rachel Corrie, in reference to the Israeli bulldozer that killed her. Discussion of U.S. foreign-policy options included terms like "targeted genocide." As for Palestinians, "they don’t need statehood," offered one commenter; "they need sterilization." And on and on. A so-called stalker blog, called L.G.F. Watch, sprang up to document instances of what it considered hate speech on the part of Johnson and his followers. Vanity Fair's James Wolcott compared Johnson’s site to a "disorganized Nuremberg Rally."

I vividly recall those days at LGF because I used to read not just Johnson's blogposts but also many of the comments, and they were indeed inflammatory, but they got LGF a lot of attention and garnered the blog a huge number of links:

L.G.F. was, by 2007 or so, at the heart of a vast, amorphous grid of right-wing sites of every description, an interdependence that Johnson himself had become, in a way, too popular to control.

That sentence stumbles a bit. Dee means that Johnson could no longer control the linked interdependence because he had become so popular on the right. But despite the awkward sentence, Dee is on to something about Johnson's way of thinking:

That concept of the link, in all its permutations, is the key to what happened next, both to Johnson and because of him, and it says something enlightening not just about blogging but also about the nature and prospects of citizen journalism. Whatever you think of him, Johnson is a smart man, a gifted synthesizer of information gathered by other people. But just as for anyone in his position, there is an inevitable limit to what he can learn about places, people, political organizations, etc., without actually encountering them. Instead of causes and effects, motivations and consequences, observation and behavior, his means of intellectual synthesis is, instead, the link: the indiscriminate connection established via search engine.

. . .

He came of age, as a writer and as a public figure, in the culture of damnation by link, and he does not exempt himself from its logic.

. . .

[Johnson employs] a kind of six-degrees-of-Kevin-Bacon approach to political rectitude, in which the existence of even a search-engine-generated connection between two people anywhere in the world implied a mutual back-scratching, an ideological partnership.

Johnson therefore decided that certain groups were fascist and anyone linked to those groups, even by a mere internet link, was tainted by fascism. But that would entail that Johnson himself was linked to fascism, for he was linked by internet to those whom he considered fascist. Dee argues that Johnson therefore decided "to conduct a kind of public self-purge of the alliances he acquired on the road to fame" as a radical means of 'de-linking' himself from them. It was also a way of 'de-linking' himself from his own rightwing persona, for despite some points of ideological contact, Johnson had really always been more of a libertarian than a rightwing conservative. He thus attacked many of his erstwhile rightwing allies in strongly personal terms. "It was unfair and simplistic and petulant, but it also seems to have achieved its goal," notes Dee, for "[v]ery few people on the right want to be linked with Charles Johnson anymore."

Johnson is obviously intelligent, at least in a techie sort of way, but but he doesn't seem especially well-read in history or political theory, nor does he seem capable of nuanced distinctions in this age of internet linkage, His preferred style of blogging about those whom he dislikes (or prefers to dislike), by posting highly emotive personal attacks, is a method that most serious-minded people would consider a sign of intellectual immaturity.

But those personal attacks did get him very effectively 'de-linked' from individuals with whom he no longer wants to be linked, including his own very public rightwing persona. Johnson himself has recently observed that "the best way to deal with defamatory statements on the Internet is to make sure your defense shows up in a Google search too." By that same internet logic, the best way to make your 'de-linkage' show up on Google searches is to make the break as publicly acrimonious as possible.

Everyone will then link to your 'de-linking'.

Neofascist against Islamofascist?

Griffin Against Islamists?

(Image from The Spectator)

Keeping up with the national politics of European nations is an endless task, especially for an American expat like me living in Korea, where I'm more affected by the day-to-day politics of Northeast Asia, but difficult to miss is the rise in respectability of the racist right in some European countries.

Take Britain. The British National Pary (BNP), along with its suited and photogenic leader Nick Griffin, has recently been burnishing its image, partly by Griffin's willingness to revise some of his more controversial spoken opinions. An article in The Independent, "A right menace: Nick Griffin" (May 23, 2009), recalls some inconvenient facts:

It was in 1995 that he joined the BNP, where for two years he edited a magazine called The Rune which, after three years of wild anti-Semitic stories, got him convicted of inciting racial hatred. In the witness box Griffin infamously said: "I am well aware that the orthodox opinion is that six million Jews were gassed and cremated and turned into lampshades. Orthodox opinion also once held that the world is flat."

Prior to joining the BNP, Griffin had belonged to the openly neofascist National Front, having joined as a teenager in the late 1970s, but that political association had fallen by the wayside, as The Independent notes:

But the National Front fell apart a decade later. Griffin was a key figure in the foundation of one of its successor factions, the International Third Position (ITP), advocating a blood-and-soil alternative to communism and capitalism. In it he praised the black separatist Louis Farrakhan, met David Duke, the former leader of the Ku Klux Klan, travelled to Libya at the expense of Colonel Gaddafi and expressed support for Iran's Ayatollah Khomeini -- who also had a strong dislike of Jews, women's rights, homosexuals, liberal democracy, international capitalism, Coca-Cola and McDonald's.

These days, however, Griffin is more concerned about Islam in Britain, and his willingness to speak out against Islam is drawing support from people worried about the rise of Islamism, with its explicit aim of promoting shariah and with its extremists even using violent jihad to accomplish this aim.

Melanie Phillips, writing recently for The Spectator, offers her opinion in "The clash of uncivilisations" (October 24, 2009) on the reasons for the rise in respectability of Griffin's image and that of the BNP among the British public:

There are, of course, many factors fuelling BNP support. Most broadly, increasing numbers at the lower end of the social scale feel the mainstream parties are ignoring their most pressing concerns. Most of these anxieties involve British national identity: uncontrolled immigration, multiculturalism, the loss to the EU of Britain's ability to govern itself. Most toxic of all, however, is the threat from Islamic supremacism and the concern of the disenfranchised white voters that the political establishment is supinely going along with the progressive Islamisation of Britain.

Phillips considers the BNP's altered position on Islam to be cynical but effective among the working class and lower middle class:

To those at the bottom, who live outside the bubbles of wealth or ideology, the face of intolerance is all too easy to recognise. They can see the churches of Britain being steadily replaced by mosques, can no longer find a local butcher selling pork, or are being regularly intimidated by local youths declaring 'this is a Muslim area'. They are in no doubt that they are watching the takeover of their country and civilisation.

To which, she adds:

Stories that attract little attention in the press loom large in the concerns of the BNP target voters. The priests in east London being beaten up by Muslim youths who shout racial and religious abuse. The councils that tear up the planning laws to accommodate the expansion of mosques or madrassas. These are the issues all but ignored by mainstream media and politicians.

The implications for British politics are not good, as Phillips points out:

This poses a grave challenge to liberals. If they absent themselves from this fray, the battle lines over the survival of Western freedoms will be drawn between the neo-fascists and the Islamofascists. At a time when there is such contempt for our established political parties, this is a fearsome prospect. As such disorder grows more violent, all minorities will be caught in the firing line, and society risks lurching into ever more panic-driven and repressive measures. And the wedge driven into the ranks of the defenders of the West makes the Islamists' eventual victory more likely.

Phillips therefore calls for a redirection of attention:

This is why all decent people must join in the fight against Islamic supremacism. Support for the BNP would plummet if the political mainstream were to limit immigration, denounce cultural Islamic imperialism and refuse to give one inch to sharia law, saying no to polygamy, sharia finance, sharia courts and all attempts to set up a parallel Islamic society in Britain.

A redirection of this sort would certainly take the wind out of the BNP's sails and leave it too politically insignificant for its national leader to appear on such prestigious television programs as the BBC's Question Time, for as Phillips points out, "there is far worse on the horizon than a nasty man on Question Time."

That 'nasty' man won't be going away, but Phillips is right, and the debate in Britain over Islamism needs to be brought onto more respectable ground.

And now for something completely different...

Rammstein in Concert

February 24, 2005

Milan, Italy

(Image from Wikipedia)

Psst . . . Claire Berlinski likes Rammstein's Till Lindemann:

Most compelling is vocalist Lindemann, a massive former swimming champion from the town of Schwerin. He commands a sinister, low bass rarely utilized in contemporary pop music. His voice is untrained but electrifying. His rolled Rs are familiar. The members of the band grew up under the Deutsche Demokratische Republik's cheerless tutelage -- "We were not even allowed to say Hitler's name," keyboardist Lorenz told me -- but somehow Lindemann managed to aquaint himself with that orator's distinctive style nonetheless. He ripples with muscles. He is a man, not a boy, with a voice so powerful and erotic that even women who understand Rammstein's lyrics -- or perhaps especially women who understand those lyrics -- find themselves mesmerized by that voice, by its beauty and masculinity. The first time I heard him sing, the hair on the back of my head stood straight up. (Claire Berlinski, Menace in Europe, page 190)

She adds that such a powerful and erotic "experience is disturbing, to say the least" for a good Jewish girl who knows better than to find that sort of German 'oratory' attractive. But there it is.

You can read more of Berlinski's reflections on Rammstein in a 2005 article, "Rammstein's Rage," published in Azure (Spring 2005, No. 20). Apparently, I've previously read that article somewhere, for I recall her words about running into Lindemann backstage at a concert in December 2004 and commenting that he appeared "bloated and unwell" with "deep circles under his eyes."

So . . . I'd heard of Rammstein, but prior to this 'Age of You Tube,' I'd never had an opportunity to listen, and for the neophyte like me, Berlinski explains how:

Next, let's listen to Rammstein. Much of it can be downloaded from the Internet. Initiates should begin with the song "Reise, Reise," played at top volume. Push your subwoofers to the limit. That is the way it is meant to be appreciated. (Claire Berlinski, Menace in Europe, page 188)

Well, I like a deep base, but I wasn't about to push any subwoofers to the limit at three in the morning when my family is sound asleep. Tillemann's bass-vocal power, however, comes through anyway, its effect deepened by his physical presence, as you can see, and hear, for yourself in the relentlessly aggressive "Reise, Reise."

Or if romantic Wanderungen are more to your taste, there's this muscular version of "Ohne Dich."

In Search of Lost Time Lost...

À la recherche du temps perdu

Marcel Proust

(Image from Wikipedia)

I've occasionally posted entries on martial arts expert and memoirist Jacques Sandulescu, a Romanian who at 16 years old was abducted by Soviet troops and sent to a work camp in the coal fields of the Ukraine's Donbas region.

Eventually, after tremendous suffering but also encounters with kindhearted Russians and Ukrainians, he escaped despite horrific injuries from a mine collapse and made his way to the States where he ultimately met the writer Annie Gottlieb and lived happily ever after. Annie relates a recent anecdote. The two of them were watching a History Channel program about Hitler, which set Annie to thinking about the life that Jacques might have led if the politics of fascism and then communism had not erupted in all their enormity. Looking at the image of Hitler onscreen performing a "spittle-spewing oratory," Annie got angry:

I said, "See that sonofabitch? He's the one who destroyed your world. If he hadn't started the war, Stalin might have stayed put. You would have been the mayor of [your town], you would have owned [a large tract of land] . . ."

J said, "But I never would've met you!"

At that Romanian's romantic words, Annie melted: "Awwww. An armful of WWII. Beats roses."

But Jacques is getting on in years, his hardscrabble life has taken its toll, and he gets confused sometimes . . . yet remains alert even in his confusion, as Annie shows:

A: Where are you going?

J: (trying to get up from his wheelchair) To the phone.

A: Who do you want to call?

J: (looking at me like I'm supposed to know) My mother!

A: I'm sorry, baby, your mother died a long time ago.

J: (not missing a beat) Then the phone call won't cost anything.

I hope that I'm that alert when I grow great in years and dimmed in memory.

At the moment, however, I have a lot of grading to do, so I'm breaking off for now. Meanwhile, here's a touching video that also concerns memory, My Name is Lisa, a short story of about six and a half minutes that won third place in some video competition and that both saddens and uplifts.