I’ll be posting today later in the afternoon, or perhaps in early evening. Busy day.
Dance me to Leonard Cohen
I reacquainted myself with the music of singer/songwriter/poet Leonard Cohen recently, as a result of this post by The Anchoress. It links, not to the lugubrious Cohen himself, but to a YouTube video of John Cales singing Cohen’s much-covered “Hallelujah.” Then there was this rejoinder by Siggy, which originally linked to a version of Cohen’s “Dance Me to the End of Love.”
Don’t bother looking for the latter. Unfortunately, it’s been taken off YouTube due to copyright difficulties. It featured Cohen standing in front of a sceen showing couples’ wedding pictures from long ago, and then those very same couples, elderly and nearly unrecognizable as themselves but still dancing together slowly as he sang the haunting, beautiful tune. Some of the older couples were actually just a single person and an empty chair where the other would have been sitting, if still alive.
I challenge anyone with a heart to have watched that thing and remain dry-eyed.
The two links started me on a YouTube jaunt. You know how it goes—you watch one video, click on related ones, they lead you to others, and suddenly a couple of hours have passed and you don’t know how it happened. That’s how I ended up re-evalutating Cohen, that sad-eyed chanteur of my youth.
Back in the 60s he was vaguely popular, mostly as the creator of “Suzanne,” covered by Judy Collins. I was avant-garde enough to own his record “Songs of Leonard Cohen” when it first came out, so I’m sure I saw that photo of him on the cover (follow the link), but I can’t say I remembered it. Who was interested? He was so old, after all—well over thirty! Since MTV and music videos had not been born, all I had to go on was the sound.
I wasn’t much of a fan of Cohen’s sound. Yes, many of his songs were pretty good—but sooooo slooooow. And that voice—strange, slightly nasal, a featureless toneless drone. Good for insomniacs and not much else. Anyone and everyone sounded better singing his songs than he did.
And then I didn’t hear or think of Cohen again, till those posts and that YouTube search. And I discovered something odd—the guy’s amazing.
He’s still got that monotonous voice. But it’s morphed into something different and even stranger—low, lower, lowest. Watching the video clips from different decades and eras, I could see the man change and age, but not in the usual ways.
Most of us get heavier; Cohen remains elegantly thin. Most of us have a face that gets puffier. His merely gets craggier, with only slightly deeper fault lines—and they started out pretty deep already. Not a hair on his head has been lost; it’s just gone gray, now that he’s in his early seventies (yep, he’s still a lot older than I am). Or maybe he’s finally stopped dyeing it.
Early on, Cohen was totally deadpan in his delivery. He never smiled. His mournful air combined with that voice and the slow delivery had a hypnotic effect; here was a man who knew the value of stillness.
In recent years, though, a slow smile curves his mouth every now and then, and even reaches a bit into his eyes. His Wiki biography says he’s suffered from depression all his life, but it has lifted in his older years. Cohen’s “lifted,” however, is most people’s “been down so long it looks like up to me.”
One of the reasons Cohen might be feeling happier lately is that, despite his advanced age, he’s got himself quite a girlfriend.
I think if I’d seen Cohen in performance earlier, or a video of him, I would have understood better what all the fuss was about. The word “hypnotic” seems to have been coined for the sole purpose of describing him. He doesn’t just sing; he weaves a spell, and strange as his delivery and stage presence is, it works.
He’s a poet, as well—a real one. In fact, he was a prize-winning poet before he became a songwriter. His lyrics are especially complex and evocative, and can bear many repeatings. The melodies, likewise. Many of them feature a vaguely Eastern European Jewish flavor. His themes vary, but the vagaries of love—especially love lost—is a favorite, and one look into his eyes tells you he knows whereof he sings.
Cohen is a famous and renowned womanizer. Almost all of his live performances through the 80s to the present follow a certain formula: backup instruments such as the violin, slow and catchy rhythms and melodies, and two female singers, one blond and one dark. The women seem mesmerized as well; they sing almost as in a trance, swaying slowly as though floating underwater. Cohen appears linked to them in some way; he often gazes into the eyes of one or the other as he sings. Some almost-palpable electricity seems to be arcing gently between them, and then rippling out to the audience like a force-field.
Cohen’s songs are frequently covered, and many people prefer those more tuneful versions to the idiosynchratic Cohen-groan. But I guess you could say I’m not one of them; I’ve become a Cohen fan after all these years.
[Note: Want to see (and hear) the aging process, right before your eyes (and ears)? Here’s the young higher-voiced Cohen. Then, the dreamy, deepening middle years. And finally, the not-sadder and wiser croak of the old guy.]
[ADDENDUM: I’m happy to report to anyone who still might be reading this that I’ve found the “Dance Me To the End of Love” video that I described above.]
“Most of my Chinese friends are Jewish”
Here’s an article from the NY Times that I came across through that “most frequently e-mailed articles” function the Times has. The title caught my eye, “Journey From a Chinese Orphanage to a Jewish Rite of Passage.”
It’s not a very deep piece. But it describes one of those interesting unforeseen social phenomena. Over a decade ago, adoption of Chinese infants became possible and popular in the US, due to the shortage of adoptable babies here and a surplus there. At the beginning, because of a combination of restrictions on family size in China and a preference for boys, the vast majority of adoptees were girls.
And so now we have the result: a fairly substantial group of female teenagers of Chinese ethnicity, some of them adopted by Jewish couples and coming of Bat Mitzvah age.
The article spotlights a few of these girls, who sound pretty well-adjusted to me. In the case of Cece, the girl most featured, this is despite a rather complex familial background, including—in addition to her transracial adoption—Lesbian parents, one of whom is a convert to Judaism.
But as another girl, Olivia, says, “Judaism is a religion, Chinese is my heritage and somewhat my culture, and I’m looking at them in a different way,” she said. “I don’t feel like they conflict with each other at all.”
And Olivia is quite, quite correct—perhaps more correct than even she knows.
Contrary to what many people believe, not only is Judaism a religion that accepts converts of any race or ethnicity, but there are already Jews in virtually every nation on earth (or there were until they were killed, driven out of some of those countries, and/or emigrated to Israel in recent years).
And so yes, even China has had a Jewish community–for over a thousand years. Take a look:
Archaelogical evidence suggests that Jews were in China as early as the 8th Century, having arrived from Persia along the Silk Road. In 1163 the Emperor ordered the Jews to live in Kaifeng, where they built the first Chinese synagogue. Marco Polo recorded that Kublai Khan celebrated the festivals of the Muslims, Christians and Jews, indicating that there were a significant number of Jews in China in the 13th Century.
There were other Jewish people in China who were more recent arrivals, but this earlier community ended up being physically indistinguishable from the other Chinese people surrounding them. In other words, they looked ethnically Chinese. Ultimately, they appear to have assimilated:
Of those [six Jewish communities in China], only Kaifeng Jewry flourished sufficiently to survive for a millennium, preserving some traces of their Jewishness until their synagogue was destroyed by an earthquake in the 1840s and the last of them assimilated. The only remnants of the community today are a knowledge of the site of the synagogue, upon which another building now stands; a stele from the Middle Ages with inscriptions of major events in the history of the community carved into it, but no longer legible; and a practice, still preserved by some, of avoiding the eating of pork.
But for Cece and Olivia and the others—who, to be sure, are extremely unlikely to be the actual biological descendents of these original Chinese Jews—it all begins again. As Cece herself says, “Most of my Chinese friends are Jewish.”
War death statistics: dueling casualty figures, and how they are used
During a war, it used to be that the body counts published in the newspapers focused on the number of enemies killed. And the populace reading those accounts were supposed to be happy, not sad; the statistics were supposed to make them feel that the effort was a success, not a failure.
Whatever deaths occurred to a country’s own combat forces were reported, but in a different way, a manner meant to inspire with the message of their courage and to praise their selfless sacrifice (here’s an interesting example of this, by the way).
These editorial policies were no accident. They were part of a tradition that glorified war and considered civilian morale something that needed boosting, not deflating.
Was this a good thing? Depends on the worthiness of the cause, I’d say. Which is always in the eye of the beholder. To an absolute pacifist none of it is worthy. To a relative pacifist most such causes are not worthy. And to the rest of us folks, the answer is variable, personal, and often political.
I’m not suggesting we go back to the days of automatic war boosterism. But I continue to be stunned by the fact that our media, since Vietnam, has adopted the opposite tack.
Here’s the method: because we in the West have become far more respectful of other countries, cultures, and people the world over, enemy battle casualties are reported in order to discourage further war and induce guilt in our populace and rage towards those who wage it. Our own casualties are reported on a daily basis, highlighted in headlines that emphasize the number of deaths without giving context to why they are there or what it might mean.
The idea, once again, is to emphasize what World War I poet Wilfred Owen called, “the pity of war”—that is, the suffering involved—in order to discourage it.
Owen was a poet and a soldier. Actually, he was a poet (and a pacifist, by the way) before he was a soldier. The war in which he served was considered the first modern war, the first in which disillusionment and futility (the latter word the title of one of Owen’s most famous poems) were the mark of those who served.
Checking enthusiasm for war is a good thing. No one should consider war easy or glorious or desirable in and of itself. But now the climate makes it very difficult to prosecute a war successfully, even against an enemy as vicious as this one, even in an arena in which it is clear that pulling out now would constitute a disaster.
I’m not going to argue the war itself or the wisdom/stupidity of what the Washington Post calls the Democrats “war plan.” I’ve done so many times before. This post is about war casualty statistics.
Statistics are notorious for their ability to be used for whatever purpose one wants. That’s because statistics seem understandable on their face but are actually extremely complex. They seem to say one thing but can really mean another, and thus the partisan among us can mold them to fit the rhetorical need at hand. And war casualty statistics are an especially useful and emotional tool for playing on the hearts and minds of the American public.
There is no doubt that thousands of US servicemen and women have died in this war. There is also no doubt that casualties are light compared to most other wars in our history. There is no doubt, too, that every one of these deaths is a sorrowful and tragic occurrence. And there is also no doubt that those who have served there are heroic, and that we should be thankful that they are.
Vietnam seems to have been the turning point, as it was with so many things. That war started out with controversial body counts of the enemy. It ended with the Vietnam Wall, on whose stark dark face are engraved the names of all our dead. And this sentiment—which I support—to memorialize, honor, and grieve the dead has led to the current trend to use the dead as potential weapons in the enemy cause.
The killings of our service men and women by IEDs can’t possibly do much damage to us militarily; their scope is way too small. They do matter, however, as propaganda, and very much—as the enemy is well aware (most US combat deaths are now from these devices).
And our own MSM, in emphasizing the number of those deaths, is subtly complicit in that propaganda cause. I’m not jaded enough to believe that this complicity is intentional on the part of the MSM. I think their idea and their motivation is the thought that death is bad, war is bad, this war is especially bad (and any war advocated by the Bush administration is exceptionally bad), and it’s best to not only publicize but to emphasize and drive home those facts to make sure the public is against the war.
Commenter Hyman Rosen wrote in a thread here yesterday, in response to another commenter’s assertion that US military deaths in the last year of the Carter Administration were higher than they’ve been during the years of the Iraq War:
The document you pointed to says that the number killed in 1981 by hostile action is zero. 69% of military deaths that year are listed as due to accident. Meanwhile, this site notes that we now have over 25,000 US casualties in the Iraq war. Maybe it’s just me, but I find it disrespectful of our troops to suggest that the danger they face in Iraq should be equated with the danger of, say, driving an automobile.
No doubt Mr. Rosen is sincere in his sympathy for the war dead. But his comment—and the statistics themselves—point out the difficulty in evaluating the figures referenced.
If one looks at the chart involved, here, several relevant facts can be noted:
First of all, the last year of the Carter Administration was 1980, not 1981 (the numbers for both of those years are not significantly different, however. We’ll take 1980 as the target year, but a similar argument could also be made for 1981, the first year of Reagan’s administration.) It’s clear that US military active forces were larger during the Carter—and Reagan—administrations than they are at present. So a correction should be made for that.
It turns out, at least by my preliminary calculations (having done the math rather quickly, and with pencil and paper) that our active forces in the last Iraqi war year reported on the chart, 2004 (1,711,916), constituted about 79% of the number serving under Carter in 1980 (2,159,630) . And the ratio of deaths of active forces in 2004 (1887) compared to the number in 1980 (2392) is also approximately 79%.
This was surprising even to me. But the fact is that, statistically speaking, the increase in military deaths of active forces due to the Iraq conflict represents an increase of essentially zero, rather modest for a war.
Of course, I would imagine that, but for the Iraq war, the death rate for active military in 2004 might indeed have been lower than in 1980, rather than virtually identical. That seems intuitively true, although one can never be sure. But the statistics do clearly point out the relatively low rate of military deaths in this war.
Commenter Rosen points out the percentage of deaths due to accident in the early 80s, but fails to acknowledge that about a third of US combat deaths in 2004 were also due to accident. He (and often the MSM) lumps together accidental deaths and combat deaths when it suits his purposes. In addition, he talks of casualties rather than deaths (apples to oranges) in order to be able to discuss a larger figure (note, by the way, that in the year 1983, 11.6% of US military casualties were inflicted by terrorist attack: the Beirut barracks bombing that killed 241 American servicemen).
But the real question is: what do these numbers mean? And how are they being used? Is there an equation by which we can weigh one death versus another, and is there a distinct point at which the numbers would become unconscionable? If the cause is considered unworthy (as this one is by many opponents) then no death is acceptable. If worthy, how many deaths are too many? Is criticism of the deaths and the war motivated mostly by partisanship? Does talking incessantly about these deaths help the enemy? Is there an enemy (this last question would seem absurd, but I submit there are many who think the proper answer is “no”)?
Rosen’s quoted comment insinuates that deaths in war count differently from deaths in auto accidents (although, to be technical about it, those military vehicular deaths probably involved mostly Humvees and planes rather than cars). Yes indeed, deaths in war do have a different meaning and resonance than deaths in civilian auto accidents, although both are dreadful losses. I would submit (along with commenter Ymarsakar) that deaths in a war can have a meaning and purpose quite lacking in an automobile accident.
Those who believe this war was for oil, or Bush’s ego, think it especially offensive to die in such a war. Those who believe the motives were to liberate the Iraqi people from a murderous tyrant’s yoke and enable them to at least have a chance at determining their own future, and to stop Saddam from flaunting the terms of the Gulf War Armistice and the UN inspections, believe the cause was a worthy one and the deaths a meaningful sacrifice.
Congress and the Iraq War timeline for withdrawal: proceeding right on schedule
The Democratic leadership in Congress seems to be proceeding right on schedule with the slow bleed technique against the prosecution of the Iraq War. After a somewhat tepid reception for their antiwar resolutions, they’ve got a new plan: a timeline for the return of the troops by early 2008.
Never mind two blatantly obvious facts: (1) such a timeline is a consummation devoutly to be wished for the enemy (just hold out a little while longer and all will be well) and a death knell for our Iraqi supporters; and (2) it’s an exercise in empty rhetoric and grandstanding (although it plays nicely to the Democratic base) because it is certain to be vetoed.
Did I call it a new plan? Pardon me, my error. Actually, the strategy isn’t all that new. Not only was it taken from the Book of Vietnam, but it was planned—in advance—by the very same people who brought you those helicopters on the roof in 1975.
But don’t take my word for it—take Tom Hayden’s. Here he is, writing in November of 2004, when the Iraq War wasn’t going so very badly at all. Hayden was a man with a plan, even then. Here are some excerpts from his article, entitled “How to End the Iraq War:”
The anti-war movement can force the Bush administration to leave Iraq by denying it the funding, troops, and alliances necessary to its strategy for dominance…the first step is to build pressure at congressional district levels to oppose any further funding or additional troops for war. If members of Congress balk at cutting off all assistance and want to propose “conditions” for further aid, it is a small step toward threatening funding.
…we need to build a Progressive Democratic movement which will pressure the Democrats to become an anti-war opposition party. The anti-war movement has done enough for the Democratic Party this year….The progressive activists of the party should refuse to contribute any more resources—volunteers, money, etc.—to candidates or incumbents who act as collaborators.
…we must build solidarity with dissenting combat veterans, reservists, their families and those who suffered in 9/11….Every person who cares about peace should start their daily e-mail messages with the current body count, including a question mark after the category “Iraqi civilians.”
Hayden knows whereof he speaks; it seems all is going according to plan.
[ADDENDUM: Here’s an excellent companion piece on the subject of whether Congress has the power to micromanage a war.]
Mrs. Giuliani: the first third-lady First Lady?
I noticed this today via Instapundit: a post pointing out that Giuliani, if elected, would not be the first divorced President. Ronald Reagan holds that honor.
I can remember when, not that long ago, a divorce was thought to be the absolute kiss of death for a Presidential candidate. And now how many people (myself included) don’t even recall that Reagan was divorced, until reminded of that fact?
Perhaps it’s because Nancy’s adoration of the man was so deeply stamped into the public consciousness. And I have to say that her stock rose with me in his later years, when she conducted herself with dignity and courage in what had to be a dreadful time for her.
But Giuliani, if elected, would be the first thrice-married (and twice-divorced) President. Personally, I’ve never been all that keen on judging Presidents by their sex lives or their romantic lives (and sometimes the two even intersect). I also have a feeling that there’s something about Giuliani’s appeal that means his marital status won’t make a whole lot of difference to many of his supporters, even on the Right; he’s already seen as brash, bold, and a bit edgy, and divorce is in tune with that.
But I thought I’d do a little research on his present wife, Judith Nathan, to see how she’d stack up as a prospective First Lady. All I knew about her until now was that the couple had been criticized by some for being a bit too gushingly googly-eyed about each other in a Harper’s Bazaar spread (the content, with photo, is described here).
It turns out that Judith Nathan Giuliani is of Italian ethnicity, like Giuliani. She grew up in what appears to be a working class community in small-town Pennsylvania, and has a nursing degree. She married wealth (first husband Nathan) and lived a fancy New York life as a result, but in-between she’s worked at her profession as a nurse, and also as a pharmaceutical representative (detail: at one point her job was to sell surgical supplies in Bedford-Stuyvesant).
Her nursing background came in handy during the early days of her relationship with Giuliani, when he was diagnosed with prostate cancer. And then, of course, she was around for 9/11, and has done quite a bit of fundraising related to that and other causes.
I haven’t seen an interview yet. But it’s not a bad resume for a First Lady, not bad at all.
However, at the risk of being catty, I have to say: please, Judith, lose the frou-frou dress with the hip-puffs. Most of us—including you—can do without hip puffs:
The case of the captive koi: Maine and New Hampshire, live free or…
I’m not sure whether anyone else would read this article and think, “That’s the difference between New Hampshire and Maine.” But I did.
You may have already heard this fish story about the ones that got away—and were returned. It occurred in Freeport, Maine (proud home of the never-closing LL Bean, for all of you who’ve never been to New England).
The state of Maine had confiscated ten koi, a variety of carp that Cuong Ly, Vietnamese emigrant and owner of the China Rose, had put on display in the restaurant’s aquarium tank.
No doubt you’ve seen such fish before, ornamentals that are often featured in Chinese art. I just happen to have a photo at hand, from a trip to—of all places—Buenos Aires. It was taken at feeding time at a park featuring a pond brimful of the voracious lovelies:
So what was the problem with Ly’s ten fish, safe in their tank at the China Rose? Koi, if released, threaten native fish, and Maine has a law against doing so.
Of course, Ly never had any intention of releasing his fish, but the state was worried anyway–as though Maine has nothing else to worry about, such as the fact that it’s experiencing a constant drain of young people due to lack of business oppotunities and high taxation, not to mention the weather. But yes, it’s a beautiful state.
The Maine koi concern was about some sort of accidental release, or perhaps theft of the fish and then a release–although why someone would steal a fish in order to release it is a bit obscure.
Ly went through quite a battle with the state to regain his fish, incurring expenses of $20,000. But now the koi are back at home in Freeport, complete with a lock on their tank and a sign informing patrons that possession of such fish without a permit is illegal in Maine.
What was the state ruling that Ly was fighting? Maine had initially allowed him to keep the fish, but only if they were not displayed, and a microchip was planted in each so they could be tracked if released.
Now, I understand the dangers that introducing a new species can pose to an ecosystem, and I’m not making light of them. After all, the dandelion, a personal non-favorite, was purposely brought here by early Europeans. And anyone who visits New England in August can see that purple loosestrife, although quite lovely, has taken over the wetland areas, causing problems.
But Maine, please use some common sense! Somehow your neighbor New Hampshire has managed to get along without a similar law. During the long legal battle, Ly kept his fish at a pet store right across the border in New Hampshire. Nevertheless, New Hampshire’s ecosystem managed to survive, and the fish remained there safely even without microchips or electronic ankle bracelets.
You might think that all New England states are more or less alike. But they most definitely are not.
New Hampshire has long had a libertarian streak: witness its license plates that still sport the state motto, “LIVE FREE OR DIE” despite several attempts to change that fact. New Hampshire was the first of all the states to declare independence, and the first state to have a constitution (ratified six months before the Declaration of Independence). Maine, on the other hand, was part of Massachusetts for a long time, only joining the Union as the 23rd state, in 1820.
Nowadays the differences are lessening, as both states have become more Democratic, with the growth of their urban areas and the influx of liberal people from “away”—often, Massachusetts. But it’s no accident that Maine has one of the highest tax burdens in the country, whereas New Hampshire is known for its low taxes. Take a look if you don’t believe me. Maine is an unproud first, New Hampshire a proud forty-ninth.
As for the koi, fortunately they haven’t heard of the New Hampshire motto. They may not be living free, but they’re not dying, either. As Ly says:
I’m sure [the koi are] happy to be back…They can’t talk, but I can represent them. It’s a happy day today.
I’ve got podcast studio envy
Instapundit Glenn Reynolds has posted a photo of his podcast studio, here. Take a look; it’s a state-of-the-art beauty.
Like the Sanity Squad, Glenn and his wife Dr. Helen do a weekly podcast that’s available at PJ.
But that’s where the resemblance ends. Glenn is a techie of major proportions, with a studio sleeker than most people’s living rooms. It’s certainly a great deal more lovely than my—ahem—podcast studio, and no doubt a great deal more functional.
My studio has a certain rustic charm. It consists of my computer, a Skype headset, and Hot Recorder software loaded onto said computer (ah, but it’s the premium version). My fellow Sanity Squad podcasters Shrink, Dr. Sanity, and Siggy can attest to the fact that I’m not merely being humble when I allude to my lack of technical eptitude.
But here Glenn, eat your heart out. It’s a photo of my very own podcast studio (taken last summer, and substantially cleaned up for its portrait):
Podcast time again: the Sanity Squad offers some unusual political diagnoses
This week the fearless Sanity Squad offers help to those who compile the DSM, the diagnostic manual used by therapists and insurance companies.
Join Siggy, Shrink, Dr. Sanity, and me if you want to hear the definitive word on new political disorders of the bizarre kind, such as the prevalent but difficult-to-treat FUCC, and Cartermartyrism.
We hold these truths to be self-evident: the Secular Muslim Summit
Where, oh where, are those moderate Muslims we all yearn for?
Here.
Although, to tell the truth, there’s nothing so very “moderate” about these particular moderates; they are radical as far as Islam is concerned.
And they are among the bravest of humans. Because—make no mistake about it—what they are doing and saying makes them targets of the many reactionary and ruthless forces in Islam.
Follow the link and listen to Ibn Warraq read the Declaration of St. Petersburg, a Declaration of Independence every bit as radical as the latter document was in its day.
These Secular Muslims rightly define the struggle not as between the West and Islam, but between “the free and the unfree.” The signers speak of themselves as defending “the inviolable freedom of the individual conscience,” and they assert that there is no inherent contradiction between that conscience and Islam itself, just between that conscience and Islam as it is commonly practiced today. They call on Muslims to consider their faith a personal rather than a political doctrine. The signers of this Declaration also declare the primacy of what they call “the community of conscience” over allegiance to religion, and defend the rights of unbelievers.
This is exactly what Islam needs. Whether this tiny graft of Enlightenment thought has any chance of taking I do not know; the forces arrayed against it are powerful, determined, and vast, both inside and outside the Muslim world.
The Declaration also calls on “academics and thinkers everywhere” to help them by examining Islam and promulgating “the ideals of free scientific and spiritual inquiry.” It is deeply ironic, therefore, that it is in the academic world itself that this may be least likely to happen.
Our own Declaration of Independence was not, after all, a morally relativistic postmodern document. It was and is, instead, a universalist one (which, interestingly enough, mentions the deity as the source of human liberty):
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.
Although it took a while for the intent of the Declaration to be truly fulfilled and extended to include blacks and women, these later refinements were understood to be clearly within the framework of the original universalist statements. And when the framers had gotten around to writing a constitution, they understood that merely declaring liberty and having elections would be nowhere near enough to guarantee those rights, so they instituted the Bill of Rights, the system of checks and balances, and all the other safeguards carefully built into our Constitution.
This was because those framers understood two related things: that tyrants will always arise to undermine those liberties, and that humankind itself can be seduced or strong-armed or frightened into giving them up.
Postmodernist moral relativism and its handmaiden, cultural relativism, have acquired a domination over modern academia, and although both exist and flourish only because of freedom of thought and expression, both refuse to acknowledge their own debt to the superior—yes, superior—values of the Enlightenment. Therefore we are faced with the puzzling fact that those who ought to be the greatest champions of exactly what the St. Petersburg Declaration is asking them to speak out for—liberty in the Muslim world, and elsewhere—make excuses for and even ally themselves with those who would deny it to that Muslim world.
America has always been universalist in its belief in the value of liberty for everyone. This universalism is not a recent phenomenon, nor is it an invention of evil neocons: it was part and parcel of this country’s basic principles from its very foundation. How this liberty can best be accomplished has always been a question to be debated, but the principle is a basic one, and part of our country’s very origins.
Election 2008: candidates we don’t have to look up to?
This election campaign promises to be a long one.
But in some ways it’s rather short—short as opposed to tall, that is.
I may in fact be the first to point out that this campaign is distinguished by a bunch of relatively height-challenged candidates. This observation began with my thought that, now that we have the first truly serious female contender for President—that’s Hillary Clinton, for those of you who may have been on a desert island for the past year—I wondered whether that old saw about the taller candidate winning might still be operative.
On further reflection, I realized that the man against whom Hillary will be running—assuming she wins the nomination—will probably not tower over her. Although these things are difficult to determine for sure—politicians may lie about their heights more often than they lie about other things, which is saying a lot—I’ve done some research that indicates that the nominees may indeed be unusually short this year.
Nobody is in the realm of Fiorello La Guardia, reputed to have reported for duty at an even five feet zero. It’s not all that easy to find information on the subject, but rumor has it that Giuliani, the present Republican front-runner, claims to be 5′ 9″ and a fraction, but looks shorter. And, although Mitt Romney and Barack Obama are both reputed to be over 6 feet tall (you research it; I’m weary from trying to find the information and coming up empty-handed), neither is a front-runner at the moment.
Then there’s John McCain, even shorter than Giuliani at 5′ 7.” And as for Hilary, she doesn’t stack up too badly against this particular crew—that is, if she really is 5′ 6″, as claimed (doesn’t seem correct to me; I’ve always seen her as 5 ‘3″ or 5’ 4″, maximum. But photos can mislead.)
Continue reading →
Official move here tomorrow!
Feel free to take a look around. And let me know if you have any comments/criticisms/observations/questions about the new site.