La Nuit Bengali

Balajee has a very nice post on his blog. He talks about his daughter who'll come into this wonderful and complex world of ours in six weeks. I wish him and his wife Anu the best with their approaching parenthood. He also talks about how India has changed since he last saw it three years ago. It is a very interesting read.

He also asks some pointed questions about Indian cricket, including one directed at me. The question, slightly paraphrased, is: Why do Bengalis insist on supporting Ganguly, given his obvious incomptence as a batsman and his inability to captain the team to success?

It is an interesting question. Why indeed do Bengalis support Sourav Ganguly? I think there are two reasons.

Part of it is parochial regionalism laced with a healthy shot of narrow chauvinism. Who cares about the team, as long as a person from MY state gets to lead it, I suppose. And part of it is because Bengalis are idiots. Let me prove that second part.

When it becomes necessary to prove something true, it is sometimes easier to start with an assumption which is the opposite of what you believe, and prove that to be false.

Let us start with the assumption that Bengalis are NOT idiots. 

Now picture this. It is the decade of the 70s in Bengal. The Mass of Bengalis (MOB, for short) who live there is doing its day job, sitting around, talking about cricket, scratching its ass, and generally getting on with life. Life is good. A few hiccups here and there, but the script is being mostly followed. One evening, as MOB is getting ready for dinner, it hears a knock on the door. A little ticked off, it being dinner time and all, it gets the door in a bit of a huff. And finds a greying old man, wearing a twinkle in his eyes and black horn-rimmed glasses on his nose, standing outside the door in the gloomy light of the late evening.

Old Man: I'll get down to business without beating around. Guys, I don't know how to break it you gently; but you have made a frickin' mess of running things for yourselves here.

Bengalis: Beg pardon?

Old Man: A snafu, if I ever saw one. You, my dear misguided friends, need help. In my personal but studied opinion.

Bengalis: What the heck are you talking about? What mess? I think we've done quite well for ourselves. Our per-capita is among the highest in India. We have thriving heavy industries. It was a bit of bother losing that large chunk of land to East Pakistan during Partition because it was a good farmland and a source of raw material to feed the industry, but I think we'll live. Literacy is not great but increasing. It is in any case not significantly lower than any other state. Our educational institutions still rank among the best in India. So what gives?

Old Man: And that is your story?

Bengalis: Well, actually there's more. Not to boast, but our recent history is rather glorious, wot. We were considered to be the leaders in the fight for independence. From within us emerged veritable giants like Swami Vivekanada, Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose, Sri Aurobindo Ghosh. Spiritually, politically, intellectually, economically, we were
pretty much swingin'. And the future looks good, we dare say.

Old Man: Snap out of it, guys. You haven't done squat. I have here with me what I call *fanfare* The System(TM). All I ask is that you try The System for sometime. Say about five years or so should do it. It takes a little time to work; what good thing doesn't? But if you think you are prosperous now, come meet me in five years after you've tried my System.

Bengalis: Well, okay.

Old Man (blinking): Huh? Okay? Did you just say ok?

Bengalis: Yeah, you heard us. Okay, we'll try it. You have an honest face.

Five years pass. Bengalis are a little poorer, thanks in no small measure to the System. It is not too much cause for alarm yet, but a few large industries have closed their doors or moved their shops elsewhere because trade-unionism is getting just a wee bit out of hand. Adult literacy isn't even crawling slowly upwards, it's frozen. What was merely a trickle of illegal immigrants from across the Bangladesh border has become a steady and strong stream. Rumor has it that the old man is in the know and on the take about this immigration thing. He encourages it in exchange for support for his System by the immigrants. The state of West Bengal, which usually ranked in the company of a Maharashtra or a Gujarat when considering human development indices, is now increasingly being mentioned alongside a Bihar or a Uttar Pradesh.

Sure enough, after five years, Bengalis hear a knock on the door. The Old Man stands there, looking a little sheepish.

Old Man: Okay, alright, before you jump down my throat, let me say it out loud myself. I know things are not so hot.

Bengalis: We wouldn't exactly put it that way.

Old Man: Alright, alright, go easy on me man. Sheesh. So things are super suckass. You happy now?

Bengalis: What's up with you? We think you've done a great job. Look around you. Things are so nice. We've never had it better. Here's our check, we'll buy another five year's supply of The System.

Old Man: (faints)

We know how this story ends, don't we? That Old Man is the Communist Party of India. And he has been in charge of Bengal's destiny for over two decades now, and counting. Bengal is near the bottom of the heap today--economically and culturally. Years of the Grand Old Man's dirigiste communism has beggared Bengal. Yet the Grand Old Man is in charge. Why? Because Bengalis have repeatedly elected him as their leader. And he didn't even have to resort to hard sell.

A group of clever, perceptive, foresighted people cannot keep choosing corrupt, rapacious goons to lead them. Goons that have made it a business of systematically impoverishing those that they rule. But Bengalis have repeatedly done this very same thing. Ergo, Bengalis are idiots. Not only that, they are masochists to boot.

---

IMHO, asking whether Bengalis are smart is like asking if the management of Apple Computer was smart. Both of these people took a promising something (a lead in technology in the case of Apple, an economy in the case of Bengalis) and totally blew it. Going by that rubric, no we are not smart.

Folk wisdom tells us that stupid people don't get rich. But how stupid do you have to be to actually travel in the reverse direction, to go from riches to rags?

At the time of independence, Bengal had a few things to boast of. What Bengal thinks today, India thinks tomorrow, and all that sort of thing. Or so I have been told.

And then we elected the Communists. And there was no looking ahead after that. Too, we didn't elect them just once, we elected them again. And again. And again. There are limits to how much one can flog himself, I would think. But no such luck here.

Today, Bengal is an economic basket case full of defeated people. It's industrial base is gone, thanks to rampant trade-unionism that has paralyzed manufacturing. Even it's much talked about "culture" is now flapping in the wind. I remember a time when Hindi cinema stole liberally from Bengali cinema (now they have switched to stealing from the South, the unoriginal bastards). Giants like Ritwick Ghatak, Bimal Roy, and Satyajit Ray strutted about. Now it's the reverse. Bengali cinema now looks to tired Bollywood movies for inspiration. Bengali literature hangs on, but only just. Adult literacy is barely over 50 percent.

There is glimmer of hope. The Leftists in Bengal are waking up, taking a whiff, and making noises about creating a pro-investment environment so that they don't miss out on the incumbent software boom. Having missed out on every other boom before this, they are not taking any chances with this one. But alas, I am a realist. Does the proverbial leopard change his spots? Nuh-uh. Do people really change? Nuh-uh. I have a feeling that the Commies are not quite done with Bengal yet.


Rather Lengthy Postscript:

(1) I do not write the above with any pride or glee. I am a Bengali and it brings tears to my eyes to see my people reduced. I have seen the hopelessness and helplessness. For quite some years, I lived it. So I know what I am talking about. And remember that I come from a background that is more privileged than most. I shudder to think of the Bengalis living close to subsistence under the Leftists.

(2) Any Bengalis reading this blog and intending to jump down my throat please note that starting to fix something is a two-step process. You have to first recognize that something is wrong with it, and then, determine what is wrong with it. And sometimes one must resort to rhetoric to get the first task done. The tale of the downfall of Bengal is not a splendid one. It cannot be told gently. I'm sorry.

(3) Rhetoric aside, this is what I truly believe. The intelligence of Bengalis is normally distributed with the same skew and kurtosis as the intelligence of any other group of people. Yes, I know my statistics; ha, ha. Put simply, they are no smarter or dumber than any other group of people. I would bet that if you took the normal curve of Bengali IQ and superimposed it on the normal curve of say, Bihari IQ, they would be indistinguishable. Nature is equally kind (or equally unkind, depending on your point of view) to every group of people. It is Nurture/Conditioning that makes our natural attributes appear different. And conditioning is a very powerful force. As a small example, consider the former East Germans and West Germans. Similar groups of people with similar natural attributes. Yet it took only two generations of good old Soviet-style conditioning to make them appear quite different from each other.

Explanations

The recent bombings in London have created a lot of talk about radical Islam. A lot of illiberal talk. This must stop. Yes, you heard that right. This hate-mongering must forthwith stop. So what if these guys sometimes blow up women and children? There are some second-order benefits of Radical Islam (RI, for short) that are lost on you folks who like to bash it. There are some definite upsides to RI that the gullible among you just don't get. Time to fix that hole.

Every cloud has a silver lining. This, munchkins, is also true of Radical Islam. Because RI has vomited up...er, what I mean, is...spawned a shiny new profession that gainfully employs many. That is the benefit. These professionals proudly call themselves the Apologists for Radical Islam, or ARIs for short. This is not quite the same as dhimmis. Dhimmitude is lowly and passe; ARI gets you spots on TV shows.

Skeptics should note that being an ARI can be quite profitable. Witness the wise and noble Fareed Zakaria, editor of Newsweek and one of my absolute favourite heroes (hey, there's no accounting for taste, to each his own and all that), who recently appeared on Jon Stewart's Daily Show and forwarded a rather interesting theory of why exactly British Muslims are inclined to terrorism. He said that we must keep in mind the general underprivileged condition of the Muslims in Britain before pointing our forefingers in their direction and jumping up and down like we have a colony of fire-ants in our pants.

Another ARI: Richard Bennett commented on rediff.com about the cause and effect between the London bombings and the war in Iraq. "If in Iraq you play, London must pay." He didn't write that pome, I did. Nice, no?

Or take another personal favourite apologist of mine called Ms. Teesta Setalvad, who heads a very liberal (and I use the word "liberal" in the sense of "illiberal bigoted fundamentialist") organization called Sabrang Communications or somesuch. This is the person who wagged her carefully manicured finger at us after the Godhra train-burning and reminded us that yes, fifty-nine innocent people were incinerated including women and small children, but we must not forget the provocation. Exactly what sort of provocation this was that justified the barbecuing of sixty-odd human beings, she did not say. I guess I am slow so I still don't quite get it.

I would request all to note at this point that all ARIs are not necessarily Muslims. In fact, some of the biggest and loudest ARIs are often non-Muslim.

The more illiberal of us like to point out that these ARIs are--either knowingly or simply because they are logically-challenged cretins--bearing out the unfortunate law of unintended consequences. 

Good intentions don't always lead to desirable consequences. The unintended consequence in this case is that the ARIs are doing the very large section of average moderate Muslims a huge disfavour by attempting to rationalize the behaviour of a deranged minority. They are also contributing to the fog of war by distracting us with non-issues and therefore shielding Islam itself from critical examination and reform.

Most ARIs suffer from a peculiar kind of hubris. They don't consider the rest of us to be too bright. Hence, out of the goodness of their tender hearts and strictly for our edification, they point out a few "root causes" that sometimes cause Islamic terrorists to lovingly place powerful explosives within easy reach of children.

Let us consider some of these causes that are cast about hither and thither.

(1) Yes, what the terrorists did in London was wrong, but they were simply acting out of the sense of outrage that they felt about the war in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Now far be it from me to question the general intelligence behind that reasoning, but my limited grasp of logic leads me to conclude that the speaker of that above sentence is kinda...like...you know...saying that a British Muslim identifies more with a Muslim in Iraq than with his own British countrymen.

Or put another way, religious identity takes precedence over national identity. And that we should be understanding of this.

Now I always try to revere wise men and imbibe their wisdom. And the best way to do that is to imitate them devotedly. I will be more than simply understanding about this.

So thus, without further ado, and purely in the spirit of emulation, I sincerely request all my fellow Hindus in India to start identifying with our Hindu brothers in Bangladesh more than our own Muslim Indian citizens. In fact, I would ask them to lovingly displace one Muslim from India for each Hindu displaced from Bangladesh. I would request them to gently and thoughtfully dishonour exactly one Muslim woman for each Hindu woman abducted in Bangladesh. I would also like them to, with tender care, level exactly one mosque for each temple desecrated in Bangladesh.

I would also like to apply this guiding model of Hindu behaviour retroactively, so that we take into account all Hindus brutalized in and displaced from Bangladesh (and oh by the way, Pakistan) since 1947. And when my dear Hindu brothers reach this stage of evolution, I would request the likes of Mr. Zakaria and Ms. Setalvad and other assorted liberal folkses to kindly be understanding about this.

There is a lot one can learn by simply paying attention to these clever ARIs, no?

(2) We must understand and empathize with the fact that the general poverty of the Muslims in Britain and elsewhere leads to their radicalization.

Yes, of course. And once again, having internalized that sage piece of observation, I would like to make an observation of my own. I have noticed that there are a lot of poor Hindus in India. And to these poor oppressed brethren of mine, I would like to extend a call to arms. Any Christian in India who is richer than you is fair game, my poor Hindu friend. Every Muslim who is more prosperous must be stripped of his wealth and made poor (so that he, in turn, can take up arms against you).

Yes, I like this logic. Very appealing. And I am, as the days go by, filled with admiration for these ARIs who take such pains to educate us about the finer points of liberalism and go to such lengths to keep us honest.

Fucking worm-infested, regressive cretins.


Postscript and Disclaimer: I am not suggesting that Hindus actually do any of the things that are suggested above. That would be stupid. My intent is to point out, with a parallel, the utter ridiculousness of suggesting that anybody should be understanding of terrorism.

Second, it should be noted that when people of the likes of Zakaria--who is a high-profile editor of an influential magazine--make excuses for radical Islam by appealing to poverty or when someone else brings up Iraq to justify terrorism, it sets a dangerous mood. Because it implies that terrorism is a justified policy tool for expressing social or economic dissatisfaction and political disagreement. It implies that I am within my rights to go blow up uninvolved bystanders simply because I disagree with my government's foreign policy, or because I don't have a job. No right-thinking person would do this. These are not root causes; these are dangerous cop-outs.

Third, it occurs to me that ARIs often ignore Occam's Razor. One should not increase, beyond what is necessary, the number of entities required to explain anything. Poverty and outrage over Iraq are needlessly contrived explanations for radical Islam. The insight that a statistically significant section of Islamic folks preach virulence against non-Muslims, coupled with the fact that the much larger section of moderate, educated, peaceful, spineless, yellow-to-the-core Muslims sits there with its head stuck firmly up its ass in fear of fatwas and such, is the simplest explanation for radical Islam that I would personally buy.

10 Kinds of People

There are 10 kinds of people in the world -- those who understand binary numbers, and those who don't.

Category: Attempted Humor

Balajee commented on my last post that the job of God is up for grabs and George Bush and Sonia Gandhi have submitted their resumes.

Balajee, I was thinking. Maybe we can persuade Monisha Koirala to apply. She'd make one hubba-bubba Goddess. It'd be fun worshipping her, wot?

I mean, I’ll let you folks be the judge, okay? Here are your candidates for God(dess). Take a good look-see and then tell me if there is any room for doubt.

God Candidate #1: Mata Anandmayee Pujjya Sri Sri Sri Sonia-ji-ji-ji (A single Ji can scarcely convey the reverence an average Indian feels for her.)

















God Candidate #2: Dubya

















God Candidate #3: Monisha, in her God work clothes (left) and in her chill-out, "I so Human" clothes (Right)

It is not even remotely a contest. Oh, and in case Monisha is busy and cannot be bothered, my next vote would go to the entire Russian women's tennis team.

In a related development, upon hearing that George Bush and Sonia Gandhi have applied for the position of God, (A) Bin Laden, (B) Mr. A. B. Vajpayee and, (C) all Democrats who rooted for John Kerry, have submitted their own nominations for the post of Satan.

This just in. In a late move, Ralph Nader, seeing how it was an election and all, has submitted his nomination also. In an even later move, both he and his Ego have been stripped naked, whipped raw and chased out of town by some seriously pissed-off Democrats.

Postscript: Here's some food for thought, though. If Monisha does indeed become Goddess and her administrative skills are anything like her acting skills, we are looking at serious trouble.

The Boon

One evening I sat and called on the Big Guy. You know, the Big Guy in the Sky. The Head Honcho. The Big Cheese. They say you really gotta pray long and hard to get his...beg pardon, His, attention. And even that is iffy.

They are wrong. It took about fifteen minutes. And He was standing in front of me.

He was smaller than I expected and several pounds overweight. He needed a shave.

"Wazzup?" He said.

"I need a boon."

He belched. He had onion on his breath. And alcohol.

His shirt was half-buttoned; looked like he might have put his clothes on hastily.

"Yeah well, who doesn't?"

"So you'll give me a blessing then?" I asked.

He scratched his stubbly chin and looked at me with a shrewd eye, sizing me up. Then He shrugged, "Awright, let's boogie. But make it quick. You kinda caught me in the middle of something."

We had a short conversation then.

He offered comfort. I asked for strength.
He offered fame. I asked for sweat.
He offered love. I asked for respect.
He offered friends and lovers. I asked for loneliness.
He offered peace. I asked for pain.
He offered More. I asked for Less.
He offered to make me a ruler of Men. I asked Him to make me a ruler of Myself.

He shrugged and said that He didn't have these things to give that I asked for, I was on my own on this, so sorry. I smiled and said that I understood completely.

He said that I was a little weird. I thanked Him for his time.

He didn't stay long.

I sat by myself after He left and thought of cabbages and kings. Outside, it grew dark as the ebony night slowly strangled the yellow evening.

Good going, Mr. Singh

The Indian Prime Minister Manmohan Singh met with the U.S. President George Bush in New York and minced no words when he pointed out that Pakistan was still being cozy with terrorists. Mr. Bush looked suitably surprised.

"You don't say", were his exact words.

They also fruitfully discussed cooperation in the nuclear sphere between India and the United States.

According to reports, while greeting the prime minister, Bush said, "You are a good man and I can do business with you."

"Why do you wear that funny hat?" he later added.

All Hail The Mother

I hear they are making a movie on the life and times of Sonia Gandhi. This of course makes her a bit of a living legend as far as politicians go. Even Rajeev Gandhi did not get this sort of honor. Neither did Indira. No one decided to make a movie about their lives while they were still alive. And a movie about Vajpayee? Yes, I hear the laughter too.

I will watch this movie of course. I will watch it closely and try to get a sense of the attributes that someone must possess or cultivate to enable her to rule over a nation of a billion people. A billion foreigners.

I personally think that the Imperial British needlessly committed a lot of money and troops in their troubles to conquer and rule India. It could have been done rather simply and without much fuss, as Sonia has just demonstrated so convincingly. All it needed was a bit of social engineering.

All Hail Sonia, the Brilliant White Mother Goddess. We bow to Thee.

And thank you for governing us skinny brown assed bastards. May your rule be long and fruitful.

The Solution

One day Mal-2 asked the messenger spirit Saint Gulik to approach the Goddess and request Her presence for some desperate advice. Shortly afterwards the radio came on by itself, and an ethereal female Voice said:

YES?

"O! Eris! Blessed Mother of Man! Queen of Chaos! Daughter of Discord! Concubine of Confusion! O! Exquisite Lady, I beseech You to lift a heavy burden from my heart!"

WHAT BOTHERS YOU, MAL? YOU DON'T SOUND WELL.

"I am filled with fear and tormented with terrible visions of pain. Everywhere people are hurting one another, the planet is rampant with injustices, whole societies plunder groups of their own people, mothers imprison sons, children perish while brothers war. O, woe."

WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH THAT, IF IT IS WHAT YOU WANT TO DO?

"But nobody Wants it! Everybody hates it."

OH. WELL, THEN STOP.

-- From the Principia Discordia

Rant #567 (And Some Bad Poetry)

I have nothing meaningful to contribute so I shall rant. Rather weakly, too.

I noticed today with a tingling feeling all over that www.rediff.com, an otherwise excellent source of news about all things Indian, has decided to go all politically starched and straight on us. They are now publishing stuff from assorted Pakistani columnists.

In itself, this ain't so bad a thing. There are many balanced, insightful Pakistani journo-types out there who can make a point. Ayaz Amir comes to mind. Besides it is always useful to throw out an opposing point of view. You know, just to mix it up a little.

But when you start reprinting utter drivel written by an established moron and position that as an opposing opinion, a reality check might be in order.

Okay, some background. Rediff did a piece on the 1965 war between India and Pakistan. Two pieces in fact. One by an Indian strategic analyst and one by an odious, mixed-up, halfwit Paki.

I will not post the link to the Paki rant which loudly proclaimed that the Pakis won the war [Aside: Most military analysts--as opposed to jingoistic fundamentalist vapid half-literate cretins--agree that it was a pointless, short war that ended in bit of a stalemate for both sides]. Here are some excerpts from the idiot:

Ayub Khan's political strength also weakened. Like Winston Churchill, he won the war but lost the elections after the war. The US was also against Khan.

...

Nishan-E-Haider (Pakistan's highest military award) Aziz Bhatti became our hero. He died defending the lines near Lahore and became a legend. Many novels have been written on him. [All of them raging best-sellers, I'm sure -- Sougata]

Outside the Lahore radio station a post box was kept in which people would submit patriotic poetry. I wrote poetry too. A poem I wrote for the Pakistan Air Force became very popular:

Yeh hawa ke rahion/Yeh badalon ke sathion/Harfanshan Mujahidon/Apni jaan pe khel kar/Tum bane salamati/blah,blah,rot,rot

I wrote a comment on the article and sent it to Rediff. They will delete it. Because they are a rather prop-ah sort of magazine, you see. They have low tolerance for people like me.

Here's the short comment, for the record:

Aziz Bhatti -- what a funny name.

Sir, your poetry is incomprehensible, if not reprehensible. It is also indefensible (See, I can be a bad poet too!). It is also laughable. Among other things.

Sir, please give it a rest.

Rediff, I have no problem when you decide to reprint a Paki's rants. But did you *have* to get a idiot Paki? Couldn't you get a decent, rational, well-informed one? One whose head wasn't firmly stuck in the sand. Or up his own you-know-what. There do exist some such, you know.

Oh, and a note to whoever does the screening of comments: Before deleting this comment, please show it to your sainted boss or editor or whoever and ask him to pay attention to the above paragraph. It'll improve the quality of the magazine and not drive away existing eyeballs. Please do not become unselective in an effort to become balanced.

 

Eighty-Twenty

Give me a fruitful error any time, full of seeds, bursting with its own corrections. You can keep your sterile truth for yourself.

The quote above comes from Vilfredo Pareto, an Italian economist and sociologist from the early 1900s. He is perhaps best remembered for the "80-20" rule. He studied the distribution of real wealth in early twentieth century Italy and discovered that eighty percent of the land was controlled by twenty percent of the population.

A generalized rule followed from this observation: eighty percent of an effect is usually accounted for by twenty percent of the set of causes. For example, 80% of the revenue of a business is generated by 20% of its products. Or 80% of the time to manufacture a widget is taken up by 20% of the set of processes required to manufacture it. A company can use a Pareto distribution in each case to identify its most profitable products or improve its most inefficient processes.

 
This general law of statistical distribution, which seems abundantly obvious to us now in hindsight, has become a widely used tool for things like root-cause analysis and studies of economic and social phenomena. In manufacturing root-cause analysis, for example, it is found that eighty percent of production errors are caused by twenty percent of the process. A Pareto distribution can be used in this case as a prioritization tool in order to focus on and amend the errors with the highest severity.

Pareto also contributed to the study of the (micro-)economics of consumer choice by forwarding theories on utility maximization and indifference curves.

The 80-20 rule, by the way, is another example of hindsight bias. The rule seems so patently plain to us today because we have assimilated its wisdom over time. As a matter of fact, it almost seems like an insult to the intelligence of the readers of this blog to describe it in any detail. "I knew that, annoying cretin," is the average reaction I suppose, "As a matter of fact, I could have discovered it myself if this Pareto bloke hadn't beaten me to it."

Perhaps. But then again, perhaps not.