Anne Applebaum totally double-crosses me. Again!

This is getting ridiculous. I just finished nailing the last nail in Annie “Europe Sucks” Applebaum’s coffin, so I thought, when she uncorks a thoughtful, seriously pro-Europe review—a totally way pro-Europe review, actually—of Christopher Caldwell’s recent double-dome tome on Europe and the Muslim hordes, Reflections on the Revolution in Europe: Immigration, Islam, and the West.

I haven’t actually read Mr. Caldwell’s book, so I’ll have to take Annie’s word for it that RREIIW is “blessedly objective,” and “written in good faith,” which in fact I seriously doubt. The seriously la-di-da title doesn’t help, but what really ticks me off about Chris is this quote, which I’ve read several times now, predicting that in the future the immigrant Muslim masses are going to stomp all the lazy, lotus-eating Euros into the ground: “When an insecure, malleable, relativistic culture meets a culture that is anchored, confident, and strengthened by common doctrines, it is generally the former that changes to suit the latter.”

Obviously, that’s supposed to be profound, but instead it’s entire bullshit. What’s Mr. Caldwell’s sample size? Probably, one. And Europe isn’t all that “insecure or malleable”—they certainly don’t have much of a problem resisting our attempts to tell them what to do—and Islam is far from being “anchored, confident, and strengthened by common doctrines.”

Islam is basically a chunk of the Middle Ages that has yet to thaw. Islam has no independent science, little art, little anything except endless theological disputes that will end, a century or two from now, the same way that Christian disputes over transubstantiation et al. ended, in exhaustion. The reactions of previous “anchored, confident” cultures to the Enlightenment West—Germany and Russia being the prime examples—is not exactly cheering, but in the end it was sloppy, lazy, hedonistic, materialistic, relativistic liberalism that won, not the fanatics.

Unlike Nazism or Communism, Islam will be around a long time—forever, in human terms. With a billion followers, and endless oil wealth going to fund fundamentalist clerics in love with the sound of their own vituperation, the prospects for an early end to the culture war is close to zero. But we in the West have all the high cards.

Neocons like Caldwell are desperate for a hot war because they don’t have high cards when it comes to domestic politics. They need an “unlimited” emergency, constant crisis, in order to suspend normal political discussion and demand unquestioning loyalty to the “Commander in Chief,” who is not our commander. Which is why they turn out crap like this book.

But don’t take my word for it. Read Anne, whom I seem to have forgotten about. She knows a lot about Europe, and she’s lived there for years, which I haven’t, and she’s also read Chris’s book, which I haven’t either.

Afterwords
Actually, Anne is far too polite to call Caldwell’s book crap. She simply refutes him on the facts. So get your attitude from me and your facts from Annie.

Death of a Sergeant Part 1

“What are you looking at?”

Robert dropped his eyes immediately but it was too late. Beneath his lids he could see Mr. Sawyer making his way toward him up the single aisle of the store, his red face even redder than usual.

“I’m talking to you, nigger boy,” said Sawyer, setting himself directly in front of Robert. “Just what in the hell are you looking at? Are you looking at that white woman’s titties?”

Robert did not answer. He tried to look as though he did not know that Mr. Sawyer was talking to him. He stood perfectly still, with his eyelids lowered, though not tightly shut. In his left hand he held the nickel his mother had given him to buy salt. He kept the hand slightly raised, as though ready to give the money to Mr. Sawyer and explain his order, if only the small man would stop shouting.

He wished that it was two minutes ago. Two minutes ago he had been looking at the glossy square of color tacked up on the raw, unpainted wall behind the counter and Mr. Sawyer had not seen him. It was a photograph of a beautiful white woman in a red and white bathing suit. She held a cigarette between her graceful fingers and had long beautiful legs and beautiful breasts. She was smiling and sitting comfortably along the edge of a concrete swimming pool, with her long, naked legs stretched out in front of her, a tanned, raised thigh both concealing and implying the unbearable white vee of her crotch.

©Copyright 2009 Alan Vanneman

Continue reading Death of a Sergeant Part 1

New at Bright Lights: Looking at Charlie

My review of Charlie Chaplin's Modern Times is now up at Bright Lights Film Journal here. Full issue, not entirely safe for work, here.* In an excellent piece, Karin Luisa Badt explains why Roman Polanski is a total shit here.

*I suppose the Updike triptych isn't entirely safe for work either. Sorry! At least there are no pictures.

Suitably Smoky—“Well, You Needn’t,” Parts IX and X

Featuring Hannibel Peterson on trumpet; Don Weller, tenor saxophone; Martin Blackwell, piano; Dave Green, bass; and Brian Spring, drums. Somewhere, and some time, in England.

Middle Stan, Early Bud—“Tempus Fugit”

Visually challenged, but musically impeccable. Stan, workin’ on a rainbow thing, somewhere in the ‘70’s, I would guess. With Jim McNealy on piano, Mark Johnson, bass, and Victor Lewis, drums. With two brief but annoying voice overs.

Well, You Needn’t, Part VIII

The Samir Fejzic band, as if you hadn’t already quessed: Yeah, it’s Ines Kazic handling the vocal, as only she can, with “ Dino” Kovacevic on the drums, Almir Nezic bass, and Samir on piano. Recorded live at 'Bihacko ljeto 2008'.

“Well, You Needn’t,” Part VII

Trombonist Frank Rosolino, talking some jive, but keepin’ it live, back in 1961. No info, unfortunately, on the other musicians. The date was the TV show “The Jazz Scene,” 1961.