Maybe this is a war on Islam? 18 May 2009Posted by MOZAFFAR in MOZAFFAR, Politics, Psychology.
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I have been preaching for most of the past decade that this war has not been—by intention—a war on Islam. And, in speaking of a “war on Islam,” I would be speaking of a war launched against Muslims and Muslim artifacts because they are Muslims or Islamic. Rather, it is a campaign to gain control of the world’s energy resources. If we—the United States—control energy resources, then we control the world. Secondarily, it is a campaign to preserve our lifestyles. It is not so much a war about oil, but a war about the power that control of oil gives, and a war that allows us Americans to continue our lifestyle of heavy consumption of such resources.
Ten Poems You Must Know (3) 28 January 2009Posted by ABD in ABD, Arts, Poetry, Politics, Reviews.
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This is the third post of a ten-part series. The first two introduced Langston Hughes’ Harlem and Wilfred Owen’s Dulce et Decorum Est.
One of Yeats’ poems was briefly mentioned in my previous post in this series, but the one you should really know is
William Butler Yeats
Conquering by Embracing 20 October 2008Posted by MOZAFFAR in Culture, MOZAFFAR, Politics.
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If you go in and conquer a people, your rule will be shortlived. You will be regarded from start to finish as an outsider occupying and imposing the brutal ways of an outsider. If you seek legacy, meaning, if you seek to last in that land, you have a few choices.
poached| Trumbo on Informants 2 August 2008Posted by EDITOR in Politics.
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Dalton Trumbo, novelist and screenwriter whose works include Spartacus, was one of the original Hollywood Ten, a group of writers and directors who were blacklisted for refusing to testify at the McCarthy hearings. The following is an excerpt from a letter he wrote in 1967 to Guy Endore, on why he refused to turn informant.
I’ve delivered newspapers, reported for newspapers, peddled vegetables, clerked in stores, waited on tables, washed automobiles, picked fruit, hosed down infected cadavers, shoveled sugar beets, iced refrigerator cars, laid rails with a section gang, and served an eight-year hitch on the night shift of a large industrial plant.
I’ve looked at many American faces. I’ve seen them as flak burst around them nine thousand feet over Japan; in a slit trench on Okinawa watching the night sky to see where the next bomb would fall; in an assault boat as they moved toward a beach that tossed more violently than the surf through which they rode.
I’ve counseled with a paroled prostitute on how she might escape the clutches of a policeman who had caught her and was stealing half her earnings and sending his friends to her with courtesy cards that entitled them to take her without pay. I’ve also counseled with Secretary of the Air Force Tom Finletter on how the secretary of state might better explain his policies to a perplexed people. I’ve been asked by Louis B. Mayer why I had no religion, and by a ranking member of the State Department how I could bring myself to work with “all those Hollywood Jews.”
poached| Orwell on the Hypocrisy of Humanitarians 26 July 2008Posted by EDITOR in Politics.
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But because [Rudyard Kipling] identifies himself with the official class, he does possess one thing which “enlightened” people seldom or never possess, and that is a sense of responsibility. The middle-class Left hate him for this quite as much as for his cruelty and vulgarity. All left-wing parties in the highly industrialized countries are at bottom a sham, because they make it their business to fight against something which they do not really wish to destroy. They have internationalist aims, and at the same time they struggle to keep up a standard of life with which those aims are incompatible. We all live by robbing Asiatic coolies, and those of us who are “enlightened” all maintain that those coolies ought to be set free; but our standard of living, and hence our “enlightenment,” demands that the robbery shall continue. A humanitarian is always a hypocrite, and Kipling’s understanding of this is perhaps the central secret of his power to create telling phrases. It would be difficult to hit off the one-eyed pacifism of the English in fewer words than in the phrase, “making mock of uniforms that guard you while you sleep.” It is true that Kipling does not understand the economic aspect of the relationship between the highbrow and the blimp. He does not see that the map is painted red chiefly in order that the coolie may be exploited. Instead of the coolie he sees the Indian Civil Servant; but even on that plane his grasp of function, of who protects whom, is very sound. He sees clearly that men can only be highly civilized while other men, inevitably less civilized, are there to guard and feed them.
George Orwell, “Rudyard Kipling,” 1942