Enough is enough!

I'm sick and fucking tired of a particular conversation that keeps happening between me and those who believe. The conversation goes roughly as below.
Me: I don't believe in a God as is popularly defined.

You: Ah, so you are a skeptic. Skepticism is all well and good, but don't you think that there is something higher than you?

So what is wrong with that conversation, you ask. It seems like a natural conversation between an atheist and a believer. But it is not a natural conversation. It is a perverted, upside-down discourse. To see how that is so, let's turn that conversation on its head.
You: I believe in God.

Me: Ah, you're gullible. Gullibility is all well and good, but don't you think that the stark reality is that this is all that there is? No one is responsible for you but yourself.

But the second conversation is not the norm in polite company, and the first one happens regularly. Do you know why? Because it is somehow assumed that the default position is the belief in a God who is all-loving, yet who sometimes unaccountably shoves giant tsunami-shaped dildos up humanity's ass to demonstrate his love. If wholesale and indiscriminate slaughter of men, women, and children is love, then fuck that shit. I spit on that love.

It is assumed that the default position is theism and we the skeptics are the deviation from this position. That is so assbackwards and fucked up that the mind boggles.

We are all born atheists. So that is the default position. And then, depending on which group of people get to brainwash you before you reach the age of consent, you start believing in an invisible sky bastard with the head of an elephant, or in a murderous goat-fucking Middle Eastern God pimped by a child molesting medieval Arab death merchant, or in a two thousand year old Jewish zombie who had to get nailed to a fucking tree just so you could safely screw over your friends and co-workers all your life, beat up your wife, jack off thinking about the neighbour's pre-teen daughter, and still get to go to heaven. It is so retarded that just the thought makes me want to throw up in my mouth a little.

Yet ninety percent of humanity believes in variations of this mind-numbing nonsense because it is easier and more comforting to simply accept the lies and bullshit fed to you by your family and peers instead of taking the harder road of thinking for yourself and making independent decisions about yourself. Pathetic.

Doesn't it strike you that if indeed there existed an omni-everything god with oversight of all humanity, the knowledge of this god would be uniform? That there would not be the need of pre-adolescent brainwashing by your well-meaning family and friends that turns you variously into Hindus, Muslims, and Christians. That you would instinctively be able to figure out which one the One True God is and not have to cut each other's throats to prove whose god is the bestest. You cannot do this automagically today because there is no fucking god.

No you see, I am not a skeptic. I am a regular average guy. You are fucking gullible.

Morality is temporal

This morning, I listened to a man on radio who argued against same-sex marriage. I don't recall his name and I can't be arsed to find out, but he has apparently made a bit of a career defending the institution of marriage, i.e. he has written a book.

I don't recall the name of the book and I can't be arsed to find out, but I have it on good authority that it has pages and stuff.

The man was a guest on a liberal talk show, and so most people who called in asked unfriendly questions. Someone pointed out that marriage is a social contract. The definition of many social contracts has changed over time and people have changed their minds with it. So why didn't the guest be a little flexible and change his mind?

The guest answered that people have changed their minds when some worthy social issue was in question. If this was, say, giving women the vote, he would have changed his mind, but he would definitely not change his mind about men poking at each other's bums. No siree.

As I was listening to the guest on radio, it suddenly occurred to me that no matter what he says now, the guest would NOT have changed his mind about the things that he says are worth changing ones mind about. No matter what he says, a hundred years ago, he would have been up on a platform arguing that he fails to see why women will ever need to vote. Two hundred years ago, he would have been arguing that those dirty negroes have no damned business working for pay outside of a cotton field. Someone who loudly prescribes discrimination against a group of people today based on what end of a human they prefer to stick their willy into is not likely to have displayed liberal views yesterday.

But why dwell on a random conservative guest on talk radio? What happens when we raise the mirror to ourselves?

A lot of us possess this sort of a self-image bias. We believe that we are better than we really are. A lot of us believe that we are more moral, more liberal, more intellectual, and more talented than we are.

Morality is temporal. Most of us are completely comfortable defending the morality of long established notions. Even gay rights has been around for some time. But how many of us would have stood up for something when it was just a renegade idea? Today we support a woman's right to vote because somebody else fought for and won that cause. We express our approval of the result, not necessarily the cause. When we defend the equality of sexes, or the equality of races, or separation of religion and state, we defend a result. It is easy--and superfluous--to defend a victory. How many of us would, were we to be magically displaced in time, fight to actually win that victory? And how many of us, like this guest, would actually have fought against the cause that seems so natural now?

Don't see what I am saying? Well, consider these ideas which are not popular today and see how many of them you can get behind. How many urban Indian men would be comfortable with the idea of the complete sexual liberation of Indian women? Or at the very least press for a sexual standard for women equal to that applied to themselves? How many Indian men that you personally know would, in your estimate, take as completely normal the prospect of a marriage to someone with five previous relationships? How many Muslims in Islamic countries would stand up and defend the right to apostasy? How many Hindus still consider caste to be an important factor in marriage and sometimes in employment? And how many other Indians simply humour this first group and go along with the plan, instead of informing them, in straightforward language, that they are fucking idiots?

How many American politicians can publicly discuss their atheism without at the same time risking their careers? How many people would endorse the legality of completely polygamous relationships where many husbands live with many wives and raise unmarked children in a communal way, out of personal choice?

These ideas are not popular in their respective cultural domains because their time has not come. At some future time, when somebody has won the cause, we will vigorously defend these ideas. Some of us will appear on future talk shows and hold up these ideas as worthy causes, while simultaneously arguing against a an even futurer(?) idea. Almost certainly. But the question is, would we fight for them now?

Beautiful World

My my my it’s a beautiful world
I like swimming in the sea
I like to go out beyond the white breakers
Where a man can still be free (or a woman if you are one)
I like swimming in the sea.

My my my it’s a beautiful world
I like drinking Irish tea
With a little bit of lapsang souchong
I like making my own tea.

--Colin Hay, Beautiful World

I like acoustic sounds. I've always liked the acoustic versions of Colin Hay's songs. The song Overkill (acoustic version) has just three guitars. And the wondeful thing is that you can separate the sound of each guitar in that song. Like a tapestry in which each individual thread is brilliant and distinct, yet blend pleasingly. How's that for being poetic, bitches?

Beautiful World is one of my favourites. Listen to it if you can.

Waiting for My Real Life to Begin is brilliant.

And if you have ever, ever loved somebody, you should listen to the song I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You. It puts to music what you have always wanted to tell her, but couldn't find either the words or the humility.

Listen to the dead Greek, Part II

Somewhere in the middle of the rant that was my last post, I held forth that: ...no matter how informed or involved you are, at a bare minimum you must be informed and involved about the politics of discrimination, because it always either affects you or a friend.

Someone pointed out in an email that this statement is straight from the Department of Redundancy Department because any politics always affects you or a friend.

Not really. 

Consider: Pujya Mahamanya Mata Sri Sri Sri Sonia-ji-ji-ji (a single "ji" cannot even begin to describe the respect an Indian feels for her) decides that she is tired of the scenery. She therefore makes up her mind to swap out Manmohan Singh and bring in Arjun Singh for the job of Prime Minister. This is undeniably politics, but in real terms, it changes nothing. It means nothing to me or you. Rentboys are, by defintion, freely transposable.

Listen to the dead Greek

One of the penalties for refusing to participate in politics is that you end up being governed by your inferiors.

-- Plato

Everyone is not uniformly political. I suppose that like many other things, political awareness is also normally distributed in a population. Take me, for instance. I am averagely aware of the politics of India. I am aware that a faux-Centrist, faux-secular party called Congress (I) rules my country. I am also aware that it is embarassingly indicative of an organization's history of personality-cult politics and insecurity when it feels compelled to tack on the initials of an important member at the end of its name. It's like if the Republicans called themselves Republican Party (L), or if Microsoft called itself Microsoft (WHG-III).

I am also vaguely aware of the political positions that this party takes (something about some sort of worship of a pale goddess) and the party's organizational structure and functioning (something about some sort of worship of a pale goddess).

I know that the top job in my country is held down by a gentleman known as Manmohan Singh, who, as some people tell me, has high-quality education coming out of his ears. I am also aware that said people are completely unaware of the tremendous amount of instructive irony involved when you tout the lofty academic credentials of a nominal vertebrate.

I know what greases the wheels of the political machinery in some of the states of India. I know what drives the averagely informed voter to make his choices because I am averagely informed myself. I am also averagely involved because I occasionally express my opinions in the presence of company or on this blog. I also sometimes sign petitions. Let that be known. God alone knows who reads those petitions, but hey, I've never been stingy with my autographs, okay? I cannot vote any more because I am non-resident, but I try to make up for that by being a little more vocal than is socially pleasing.

So I am averagely informed and averagely involved. And there are some who are far more aware than I am, and some who are far less so. But I think that no matter how informed or involved you are, at a bare minimum you must be informed and involved about the politics of discrimination, because it always either affects you or a friend. Caste and religion based affirmative action is discriminatory politics.

A recent conversation that I had with someone somewhere went somewhat like this.

I, Sougata: Have you heard? Manmohan Singh has proposed religion-based reservations in education and employment (both private and public sectors).

[Please gather from the above that I sometimes speak in parantheses.]

Person I just met: Really?

I, Sougata: Yes. Isn't that terrible?

Person I just met: I wouldn't worry. These days it's getting difficult to push such things through. They don't take things lying down any more. Don't worry. They'll fight it. It won't happen.

He thus dismissed my fears and the conversation ended there. It takes interest on both sides in something to maintain a conversation about that thing.

I like this guy's faith. He says "They" won't let it happen.

Yes, I am sure "They" won't.

I like his detachment. He says "They" will fight.

Oh, "They" are just itchin', I imagine.

You know, it is easy to live in a world where others fight your fights. It is easy to live in a world where other people change the world by marching with a banner that has your desires scribbled on it. I want to live in that world, because it is warm and full of steaming hot chocolate and kittens that will never grow into mangy, horny cats.

I have a question: Who is this amorphous "They"? I get the distinct impression that there is this large and mysterious organization resident in India with a huge payroll that is registered under the official name "They", and that the sole revenue-earning activity of said organization is to actively oppose the short cons policies that the low-rent, mouth-breathing tosser politician that answers to the name of Manmohan Singh pulls out of his behind hat from time to time.

There is no "They". There is no payroll. There is only "Us". Ya gots to get up and feel the feelin', luv. Others may or may not do it for you. Ask not for whom the bell tolls, it doth ring apeshit-crazy for you.

A little paranoia is sometimes good.

As an afterthought, it occurred to me that I have just bitched and moaned at length about the length of a conversation I had with someone. Now if that's not a new low in my already very low social life, I don't know what is. Therefore, without further howdo, I'll climb off my soapbox and stop whining like a Bob Dylan song.

The Joys of Polygamy

This post is really a follow-up to Balajee's comment on my previous post. I have wondered too, as Balajee does, about when certain reforms to a certain religion (which we shall coyly not name until the next paragraph) will take place.

Actually, the real question is: why should we care if Islam carries out marital reforms, specifically? Well, apart from the obvious human angle, there is a personal side. What if one of our daughters or sisters decides to marry into Islam? Will she have an adequate safety-net in case the marriage goes south? What if she marries a non-Muslim who migrates to find work in an Islamic country and who then on a lark decides to convert and take a second (and third, and fourth) wife? These are questions worth thinking about because these hypotheticals are not so much of a stretch, really.

What I find particularly scary is that even in a supposedly progressive society such as India, a Muslim woman will probably find it difficult to get things like alimony from an unwilling husband. Especially so if the issue can be politicized enough.

I seriously don't understand women who naively defend what can only be called thinly veiled (no pun intended) misogyny. I was reading an article written by someone named Shaheen Ahmed (who is most certainly a woman) and is called American, Ambitious, and Muslim. The article is quite on the mark for the most part and talks about the unfair stereotypes that Muslim women have to tolerate in the United States, especially post 9/11.

And then somewhere in the middle of the article, the objectivity breaks down and the author starts lamenting the absence of Sharia in the United States. Here's one paragraph:

Muslim women also find that it can be hard to achieve their Islamic rights in the United States because religious law is not recognized. For example, women who marry under Islamic law and who do not obtain a civil marriage license find themselves at a loss when that marriage is not recognized in the American courts. Wives of polygamous husbands have no marital rights in the United States since polygamy is considered illegal. The second, third or fourth wife is considered to be in a common law marriage and her children illegitimate. As such, she has some of the same rights as a woman who has "lived together" with her boyfriend and can challenge her Islamic husband to pay child support. However, the question of alimony can be particularly difficult. The onus is on the wife to prove that they lived together as partners and she, at least, thought she was married.

I find it bizarre that the author hints that the United States should recognize polygamy to solve the problem of marital rights of Muslim women.

Funny, I would have thought that the solution lies in precisely the opposite direction. Instead of suggesting that the rest of us reform and recognize polygamy, we should suggest that Islam reform and refuse to recognize polygamy.

But the latter and more humane solution is opaque to the author. What can I say? Such is the condition of the brainwashed, Balajee. As I live and learn, I find that conditioning is a very powerful force. More powerful an influence on a human being than anything I have personally seen. Every emotion bends in defeat to conditioning--humanity, compassion, fellow-feeling, love... you name it. Conditioning conquers all.

Those with the no backbone no minds of their own are most affected by conditioning, of course, but I suspect that none of us are completely immune to it.

Edit: The article spoken of can be found here.


As if on cue...

A story from South Africa: Divorced over phone, Muslim woman moves court.

If you read that article, be sure to note the efforts of a Mr. Sulaiman Dangor, a university professor who is attempting reform. He is a good man. Note what he says in the last paragraph of that article.

I idly wonder how a reformer such as he would be treated in India. And how would an Indian court rule in such a case, if it happened now? Would Indian politicians influence that ruling? Should we turn to the Shah Bano case to answer some of these questions? Or have times changed since then? I am not being sarcastic here, just wondering about the what-ifs. I hope the answers will be in line with my strong faith in the secular credentials of the Congress government.

You know, it occurs that I may have lied about the sarcasm bit, because that last sentence there just might have been sarcasm.

And Meanwhile, Down Under...

The following story appears in the Adelaide Times: Women take stand on sexual attacks.

The summary is that a popular Islamic cleric in South Australia has recently weighed in with his considered opinion on why assaults against women occur. His opinion is that the victims--namely, the women--are to blame because they invite the assaults by being dressed inappropriately. He drives home that point with a nice fond analogy that compares women with meat. Real classy stuff, if you happen to live in the 9th century.

Here's a quote from the learned cleric:
"If you take out uncovered meat and place it outside on the street or in the garden or in the park, or in the backyard without a cover and the cats come and eat it . . . whose fault is it, the cat's or the meat?" he reportedly told his congregation. The uncovered meat is the problem," he said. "If she was in her room, in her home, no problem would have occurred."

So the solution is simple, women. Stay at home, if possible in a single room. And preferably with a blanket wrapped around yourself, exposing only your nose so you can breathe, and your mouth so that you may ask for food. Because of course the sight of any other sort of skin might trigger an assault by incredibly aroused drooling men. Wait...speaking of drooling, the cleric might have a problem with the mouth bit too. So let's take that off the list. Sorry.

Also, don't talk to any grown men other than your husband. That might be dangerous.

The men of course are pure snow and not to be blamed. After all, who can fault them if they can't control their Allah-given libido and therefore feel free to violate women as they see fit.

I wonder. What exactly does this sort of an Islamic worldview offer women? Do any women go to this mosque that the cleric preaches in? If so, why?

Oh, I do understand that all this is a sweet deal for men. Consider some of the perks for men in strictly Islamic societies:

(1) They have the religious sanction to take and discard spouses as they please. Alimony? Pish-tosh. 
It is my understanding that in Malaysia, it is permissible to divorce your wife via text-messaging, as long as the message is clear (da fuck?). In other words, e-Talaq.

(2) They are often absolved by their religious leaders such as the cleric above from the burdensome task of reining in their libido. The onus is on the women to not tempt them.

(3) They have disproportionately less chances of being stoned to death even though it takes two tango, so to speak.

(4) They are free to marry women from outside the religion, especially if she belongs to a category known as "People of the Book", but a Muslim woman is not allowed a similar courtesy.

So my question must be: I understand why men of whatever faith defend Islam, but why do some women jump to defend it? Are they just incredibly stupid, or simply don't want to acknowdge that it is ultimately self-defeating to defend a philosophy that treats your kind as chattel?

Here's my gentle and respectful personal opinion. Any society that considers gender as sufficient grounds for disrespect of an individual and thinks that it is a bright idea to keep 50% of its population oppressed, confined and pregnant is brimming with shit. Any individual who does the same is a fucking moron.

Hallelujah

I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played and it pleased the Lord
But you dont really care for music, do ya?
It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing hallelujah.

Your faith was strong, but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew ya
She tied you
To a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the hallelujah.
...

Maybe there's a God above, but all I ever learned from love
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew ya
And it's not a cry you can hear at night
It's not somebody who's seen the light
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah.


-- John Cale, Hallelujah



The original song was written and sung by Leonard Cohen. The above is the version by John Cale. Jeff Buckley has a version too. I have never been able to listen to that song without something twisting itself into a knot inside me.

If you have iTunes or Napster or Yahoo! Music, I can think of worse ways to spend 99 cents. You should definitely get both versions--Cohen and Cale. They are different and both are uniquely beautiful.

If You Must Point, Make Sure your Nails are Long and Shapely

An extremely cute person sent me the following story about India's intent to share evidence with Pakistan on the recent bomb blasts on Mumbai trains:
http://www.stuff.co.nz/stuff/0,2106,3815302a12,00.html

For those pressed for time, the story is headlined "India to share Mumbai bombs evidence with Pakistan", and says that India has strong evidence linking Pakistan to the Mumbai train explosions and will present this evidence to Pakistan.

Why are we doing this?

It does not come as a surprise to me that Pakistan is involved in terrorism. But presenting Pakistan with hard evidence of their own shittiness will serve very little purpose as long as the United States continues to be Pakistan's sugar daddy. It is a waste of time. What India should do is articulately present said evidence to the WHOLE FUCKING WORLD in the distant hope that at least some countries are embarrassed into distancing themselves from Pakistan. It is a distant hope, but it is at least better than presenting some sort of evidence to Pakistan in the even fonder hope that we will embarrass Pakistan.

I would like to stress the fact that we need to present the evidence articulately because as with most other things, international diplomacy is very much about good form. Also, it so happens that this evidence needs to be presented to the Western world primarily, for no other reason than the fact that the Western world pulls more than a few strings, and that a lot of those strings are attached to Pakistan.

But the attention span of the Western world is about two minutes when it comes to matters involving third world rabble such as India and Pakistan (unless of course the matter involves caste wars, religious decapitations, incineration of widows, or cows walking the streets) A few hundred Indians who ended up dead when their train went boom don't bother the average American or European much.

This is where the good form comes in. Style and drama are as important as content when presenting a case. Put a pretty face on the screen, for chrissakes, and have her describe the horror. Hire a bloody Miss India if need be. Those people must be good for something besides mouthing inanities about "franship" and "world peace" and selling two-rupee shampoo satchels. Recruit them and press them into service for a good cause. Since the Western world's attention span goes up dramatically in proportion to the amount of cleavage presented on-screen, that should be an attention-getter.

We talk loudly about globalization. Why not globalize a case against terrorism?

Yes, it should be targetted to a global audience, not a subcontinental one. And it should preferably be done by a well-dressed, well-spoken diplomat; not by a Natwar Singh clone. 

No frothing at the mouth, no wild-eyed accusations; just damning evidence presented with a certain flair. Have you seen Israel's Benjamin Netanyahu in action? He is a former Prime Minister who later served as Israel's Foreign Minister under Ariel Sharon. He was, and still remains, an articulate and sharp spokesman who lays out a case and pulls no punches. That is the sort of person we need. This link: http://www.hbo.com/billmaher/video/, contains an interview with Mr. Netanyahu. It is about fifteen minutes long, but I think you should watch it. What Mr. Netanyahu says at the end of the interview about "perfect victims always being perfectly moral" is strikingly true. You may not agree in the entirety with what he is saying (or even at all), but just note how well he says it. Unfortunately, given the general shallowness of this world that we live in, that counts for a lot. The Indian government needs to understand this.


Postscript: Here's a late thought. We have a thriving, mammoth movie industry that can be lucid at times. Movies like Monsoon Wedding, Bend it Like Beckham, and Fire seemed to get some international play. So why can't we leverage that and increase awareness of terrorism through Bollywood? Where are the Deepa Mehtas and Gurinder Chadas? If a movie about some random Indian wedding is worth making, then so is a movie on Pakistani terrorism. If a Monsoon Wedding's time has come, surely a Bombay Mayhem is overdue.

Visiting India? Please Mind the Elephant Dung

In the comments section of a blog, I came across this link. If you are an Indian and have nothing better to do, it may be interesting to follow the link and read this blogger's blog entries on India and the comments that follow those posts. Not that you necessarily need the glimpse, but if you follow the link, it will give you a glimpse into the mind of an average American tourist visiting India. Unless the blogger in question is below average, in which case all bets are off.

To quote a snippet from one blog entry:
Well, today I leave India. I have to admit that I am rather glad to leave Bangalore. If I had seen other places in India I may have had a better impression of the place. Mysore was nice, but Bangalore reminds me of Mexico City, but even more dirty and chaotic. Maybe a slum in Mexico City is a better comparison to this city. The streets of the "nice" neighborhood that I am staying in are filthier than the streets of the favelas in Rio. People urinate everywhwere, there are signs to discourage it but if there are no public toilets, what is one to do? Not to mention the cows, PACKS of stray dogs and other misc. animals roaming around doing their business where they feel like it. Cows have a much easier time crossing the road than I do. At least the cars stop for them. Speaking of cows, you see them all over munching on piles of trash, which are also everywhere, including in this "nice" neighborhood. At least in Latin America the nice neighborhoods are clean(er). The best tip I got before I came over here was to wear closed-toed shoes.
And some more:
BTW, they have this thing in India about taking off your shoes in homes and temples and even here at the palace [Mysore Palace] we had to take off our shoes. I was glad i was wearing socks, because it would not have been nice to step in elephant dung with no shoes on.
Then there are some photographs of some locals with the following notes by the blogger about how everybody on the streets practically doted on her:
Gotta love the kid who tells me he's from India. BTW, in Peru if you want to take a picture of kids in native dress, they will charge you. Here they practically beg me to take their pics.
People, all I can say is that I really feel for celebrities now. All the attention was fun at first, but it got old fast. I lay low for a few days after this (partly because of stomach issues--used to have an iron stomach when I flew to South America with Delta, but it's been 2 years now). Am still a little hesitant to venture out on my own. Managed to go to a shopping mall without getting mobbed, but I had to avoid all eye contact and pretend not to hear people calling to me.

At first blush, if one were an Indian, one would be tempted to think less than flattering thoughts about the blogger's judgment. For example, she says, possibly for effect, that she found people urinating everywhere in Bangalore. This is, of course, objectively untrue. It is no different than if I visited New York, mingled with the natives, and then declared loudly and publicly that New York is a city of crack-whores. A New Yorker would surely be within his rights to question this conclusion. And perhaps my sanity, if he thought I was being serious.

I personally have lived for several years in a solidly middle-class neighbourhood in Bangalore and not once have I seen a guy unzip and take a whizz against a wall. Now if it were Calcutta...maybe, but not Bangalore. Perhaps the nice neighbourhood that she was holed up in wasn't so nice after all.

Some of the comments following the entries are priceless, and I suppose in a bizarre way, amusing. Someone wished an asteroid wipes out India. I sometimes wish that too. But then, I always extend that wish to the whole of humanity, so that probably doesn't count.

It is normally useless to dwell on something like this, but I sometimes feel a sense of impotent rage when I read stuff this. Because at least some this stuff is, on the face of it, true. And a lot of it is driven by simple economics. An impoverished nation cannot afford to be proper for the sake of American tourists. Where millions of people don't have access to a glass of safe drinking water, even public toilets is a major infrastructure project.

I feel impotent rage at the British who impoverished India. They fed their Industrial Revolution with cheap raw material produced with forced labour. In India they found both a source of raw material and a captive market for finished goods. They stole. Shamelessly and mercilessly. Actually wait...I use the wrong word. They didn't steal, they took. The strong don't need to steal stuff from the weak; they can simply take it. Incidentally, that is why one should never ever be weak. The guns vs butter question is a non-question. You need both. It is not an either/or proposition. If you don't have the guns, chances are that the butter will go bye-bye soon.

And by the way, do let's bitchslap the historically-challenged motherfuckers who sometimes harbour the fond notion that the British were somehow "civilized" imperialists. They were most emphatically not. They were brutal. To cite just one example, The Bengal Famine of 1943, with five million dead was a wilful genocide through negligence by the British. I don't know why it's not classed as such.

I feel impotent rage at the invaders who repeatedly brutalized India and beggared it so that a large section of its population needs to go do their business on the streets and on railway tracks. But more so I feel impotent rage at ourselves. We who meekly bent over and greased up for anybody willing to take the trouble to cross the Khyber Pass or sail a ship to Cochin.

Here's the litany of complaints. Indians are ignorant of history. Indians have lacked a collective will and a strong racial memory. A pathetic lack of a sense of nationhood rounds out the portfolio. Read the details of the Bengal Famine, o woefully ignorant Indian. Read and tell me how many Indians you know are awake enough to even know their own fucking near-history.

I feel impotent rage at the Nehruvian Socialism that followed British colonialism and hobbled India with a pathetic 2-3% growth over fifty years. India was saddled with policies that neglected universal primary education and subsidized secondary education at the cost of primary education. Population growth continued unchecked and the people were kept ignorant. The only thing better than a lot of voters is a lot of ignorant voters.

I feel impotent at how little individual pride we have. I feel impotent rage at our lack of critical thinking that makes us repeatedly bring to power those who rob us. I feel impotent rage at every old woman who miserably touches the feet of the politician who is the cause of her misery. How do you teach someone pride? What is pride? Is it concomitant with wealth? Is it a consequence of wealth, or is it a cause? Do the proud become wealthy? Or is it the other way around?

And is it all economics? Did this blogger pay every man, woman, and child who "mobbed" her while she was there and posed for photographs with her? She herself says that she would have to pay people in certain other countries for photographs. So what benefit did the Indians she met derive from making an ordinary American feel like a celebrity? No, it is not all economics.

I shudder to think what it is.

Justice needs glasses

This morning the radio told me that Peg Lautenschlager, the incumbent Attorney General for Wisconin, has lost out in the Democratic primaries for re-election to the post. Which of course means that she will not get to contest the election for the post of Attorney General the next time around. She was beaten by Ms. Kathleen Falk, who will run instead as the Democratic nominee.

Why is this important to anybody but a Wisconsiner? Because sometimes, despite all its systemic flaws and despite the counter-examples of G.W. Bush and Sonia Gandhi, it is nice to see democratic popular opinion doing something useful.

Wisconsin Attorney Genereal Peg Lautenschlager was arrested in Februrary of 2006 on a DUI charge. She was driving under the influence of alchol and drove her car off the road. Her Blood Alcohol Level at the time of the arrest was 0.12 percent, which is 0.04 percent more than the Wisconsin legal limit of 0.08 percent. The 0.12 percent number is indicative of two to three drinks.

So she was not wanted any more.

Her opponent ran TV ads against her and brought up the DUI incident. People responded by rejecting her nomination. Ms. Lautenschlager herself admitted in her farewall address that the DUI was one of the worst mistakes of her life.

Now was this too harsh a fallout for such an offence? Maybe. But at least the action-reaction mechanism--which makes democratic process what it is--was alive and vibrant. If perhaps a little too responsive to the touch for some tastes.

In the final analysis, what exactly does Ms. Lautenschlager stand charged of? She did not run over and kill homeless people sleeping on the sidewalk. Her husband did not accept massive kickbacks in a fodder or a defence scam. She, to put it simply, drove into a ditch. But that, it appears, was enough to see the wrong side of the door.

I was born in what is sometimes fondly called the largest democracy in the world, by those who confuse quality with quantity. And that is why this bit of election justice struck a chord in me. B flat minor, to be precise.

I set about thinking. I set about thinking that this is exactly how things work in India!

Like how about when that time in India when that politician swindled all that scratch from a Swiss company and the voters humped his happiness.

No wait, that didn't happen...

Okay, how about this?

How about that time in India when that Admiral's grandson in his BMW, drove drunk and killed people and then was packed off to jail for a long long long time.

No wait, that didn't happen either...

*scratches head*

Let's see...how about when that talentless sonofabitch loser cunt of an actor named Salman Khan got upset that an actress thought his dick was too small, got piss-drunk and mowed down several homeless people in his jeep and the people of India responded by refusing to see his crappy movies.

No wait...

Never mind.

Tango Moment

The thing I like about poetry like Ballad of Reading Gaol is its simplicity and rythm. No lumbering and complex words. No convoluted structure. Just a lilting sense of flowing along with a story.

Reading simple words woven together with rythm is probably one of the purest joys the human mind can derive. The same is true of dance. Dance should be simple too. I saw this bit of poetry in a coffee-shop on a dark evening. It is simple and beautiful.

Tango Moment

The simple steps are best.
The left and pause, then right again.
Just intention. Just attention
To details in our breathing,
To the texture of your shirt,
And perfume in the room.

Simplest is best.
Back, front, front, back
In perfect symmetry perfectly in

Each step, this very step.

I don't know you well at all
But I'm sure I will recall
Your touch, your steps, your breath
When I am alone again;
When we are each alone again.

-- Gibson Batch

The Ballad of Reading Gaol

One poem I read a long time ago and liked is the Ballad of Reading Gaol, by Oscar Wilde. It is a ballad, and therefore very long. But I remember the parts that I especially liked and I will copy them here. For those who don't like to do things by halves, the entire poem is here. The poem is based on real events. It is about the hanging of a man in the jail that Oscar Wilde was himself serving time in for homosexuality. [Homosexuality was a culpable offence in England at the time.]

The man in the poem was convicted of murder and hanged.

He did not wear his scarlet coat,
For blood and wine are red,
And blood and wine were on his hands
When they found him with the dead,
The poor dead woman whom he loved,
And murdered in her bed.

He walked amongst the Trial Men
In a suit of shabby grey;
A cricket cap was on his head,
And his step seemed light and gay;
But I never saw a man who looked
So wistfully at the day.

I never saw a man who looked
With such a wistful eye
Upon that little tent of blue
Which prisoners call the sky,
And at every drifting cloud that went
With sails of silver by.

I walked, with other souls in pain,
Within another ring,
And was wondering if the man had done
A great or little thing,
When a voice behind me whispered low,
'THAT FELLOW'S GOT TO SWING.'

Dear Christ! the very prison walls
Suddenly seemed to reel,
And the sky above my head became
Like a casque of scorching steel;
And, though I was a soul in pain,
My pain I could not feel.

I only knew what hunted thought
Quickened his step, and why
He looked upon the garish day
With such a wistful eye;
The man had killed the thing he loved,
And so he had to die.

Yet each man kills the thing he loves,
By each let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!

Some kill their love when they are young,
And some when they are old;
Some strangle with the hands of Lust,
Some with the hands of Gold:
The kindest use a knife, because
The dead so soon grow cold.

Some love too little, some too long,
Some sell, and others buy;
Some do the deed with many tears,
And some without a sigh:
For each man kills the thing he loves,
Yet each man does not die.

The poem then describes vividly the harsh days in prison and the frightening nights.

I know not whether Laws be right,
Or whether Laws be wrong;
All that we know who lie in gaol
Is that the wall is strong;
And that each day is like a year,
A year whose days are long.

With bars they blur the gracious moon,
And blind the goodly sun:
And they do well to hide their Hell,
For in it things are done
That Son of God nor son of Man
Ever should look upon!

And never a human voice comes near
To speak a gentle word:
And the eye that watches through the door
Is pitiless and hard:
And by all forgot, we rot and rot,
With soul and body marred.

I especially liked the description of the nights haunted by the apparitions of long-dead prisoners with their tortured souls.

They glided past, they glided fast,
Like travellers through a mist:
They mocked the moon in a rigadoon
Of delicate turn and twist,
And with formal pace and loathsome grace
The phantoms kept their tryst.

With mop and mow, we saw them go,
Slim shadows hand in hand:
About, about, in ghostly rout
They trod a saraband:
And the damned grotesques made arabesques,
Like the wind upon the sand!

With the pirouettes of marionettes,
They tripped on pointed tread:
But with flutes of Fear they filled the ear,
As their grisly masque they led,
And loud they sang, and long they sang,
For they sang to wake the dead.

That above contains some of the most lyrical and internally rythmic verses I have read: They mocked the moon in a rigadoon; And the damned grotesques made arabesques; With the pirouettes of marionettes; With formal pace and loathsome grace.

Loathsome grace--that phrase has a surprising antithetical beauty to it, don't you think? I wish I could think that clever.

The poem describes the condemned man's emotions as the day of his execution draws near.

And all the woe that moved him so
That he gave that bitter cry,
And the wild regrets, and the bloody sweats,
None knew so well as I:
For he who lives more lives than one
More deaths than one must die.

The poem paints a piteous picture as it ends.

In Reading gaol by Reading town
There is a pit of shame,
And in it lies a wretched man
Eaten by teeth of flame,
In a burning winding-sheet he lies,
And his grave has got no name.

And there, till Christ call forth the dead,
In silence let him lie:
No need to waste the foolish tear,
Or heave the windy sigh:
The man had killed the thing he loved,
And so he had to die.

And all men kill the thing they love,
By all let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!


 

Let the Doves Fly

Whenever a Mumbai train gets blown up and two hundred Indians die, or when sixty Indians have to be scraped off a Delhi pavement on Diwali, we hear the Pakis express the hope that this will not derail the "peace process".

To be perfectly honest, I don't understand this peace process business. Are we at war with these fuckers? What's the deal here? As far as I can tell, there is no war.

How can you have peace without a war?

And if not war, then what are we seeking peace from?

Since the Pakis themselves talk about peace, maybe the Pakis are seeking peace from us. Which leads me to infer that we are actively antagonizing them in some way. Are we antagonizing them in some way? I hope not. And if we are, then we must stop. That is only civilized.

And if we are not antagonizing them in some way and there is no war, then the only conclusion is that they are needling us in some way for all this talk of peace to get thrown around. Are they fucking with us?

Is this true? Is this even possible? Surely not the gentlemanly Pakis?

I'm all out of sarcasm now.

Ze Count of Monte Cristo

I was watching The Count of Monte Cristo on cable yesterday. In my defense, I had nothing to do.

Alexandre Dumas wrote the book, which is essentially a revenge drama, in the 1800s. Hollywood, never comfortable with the idea of leaving well enough alone, made the movie. The movie, of course, looks nothing like the book.

Here's the plot. Of the book; not the movie.

What? What do you mean, "Stop"? What do you mean you want to watch the movie first? You don't want me to give away the ending?

You know, it's not like I'm slinging you a spoiler here. The book has been out for more than a frickin' century. If you don't know what the ending is by now, well...it's probably time.

So briefly and sketchily, here's the story. 

Edmond Dantes, a sailor in nineteenth-century France and overall good guy, is getting married to his fiancee, the Catalan beauty Mercedes. But not so fast, because he has not been terribly selective about his friends. His jealous friend Fernand Mondego, with the help of a few others, frames Edmond for treason and sends his goody-goody ass to jail. Fernand then lies to Mercedes about Edmond's death and marries the weak-headed woman himself. They shortly have a son. Fernand then builds up a fortune through various environmentally-friendly business ventures like piracy, smuggling, and assorted general shittiness. Poor Edmond spends a gruelling eighteen years in jail, before being befriended by a fellow inmate who tells him of a great fortune buried on the island of Monte Cristo before dying. Probably from a bad plot.

Edmond escapes by substituting his skinny self in the body bag meant for his saviour. Hey, the saviour-fella was dead, OK? It's not like he cared. Edmond then goes to Monte cristo, digs up the fortune, styles himself the Count of Monte Cristo, and grows a beard so no one from his past will even suspect him of being Edmond Dantes. Real sneaky move, that beard. As the Guiness ad on TV says, "Brilliant!"

And then he plots his revenge on those that gone done him wrong.

Through various clever devices which would never work in the real world, Edmond succeeds in ruining his by now rich and powerful framers. Last, he bankrupts the head conspirator, the backstabbing Fernand.

All well and good, but then...remember that son that Fernand and Mercedes had? Good. 

Well, this son does not take kindly to the fact that a stranger has just robbed him of his fat allowance and forced his father to sell the Ferrari. He also has no idea that his father is a bad, bad man. He just assumes that his father is a honest dockworker who mysteriously adds a couple of million bucks to their bank account every month by putting in some serious overtime. Which sorta proves that when you cross a villain with a weak-minded woman, you won't exactly come up with Einstein. 

So he gets his silk britches in a twist and goes up and challenges the Count of MC to a duel with swords. In the name of family honour and all that.

The place and time for the duel are fixed in due course. The bookies place heavy odds on the Count, who is only the finest swordsman that France has ever seen. Don't ask me how he got so good. Maybe it was while he was in prison, where Swordplay was a required part of the prisoner work-rehabilitation program. Use your imagination, OK?

Just before the night of the duel, Mercedes, who still loves the Count, but at the same time doesn't want her idiot son to end up as sheesh-kebab, secretly goes to the Count's house and begs him to spare her son's life. The Count, who has also always loved her but is honour-bound to duel, replies that he will not call off the duel but will throw away the match after it has started. And everybody knows what else gets thrown away when you throw away a match that involves swords, right? Er...your life, that's what.

Before things go horribly wrong but, the son has an epiphany. Mainly because his mother sits down with him and says, "Look you idiot, here's what the deal is ...", and realizes that his father is basically a rat-turd, but with less integrity, and calls off the duel himself.

Things end on a sort of happy note when justice is done with Fernand committing suicide and leaving the world a little brighter as a result.

And that is the story as the book would have it. Justice served and fires extinguished.

And books are fantasy of course. That is why they sell.

You know how the book would have gone if it mimicked real life? 

Probabilistically speaking, nine times out of ten, this is how it would have happened in real life. Edmond The Good would have rotted away in prison for eighteen years before dying of internal injuries after some especially tender and intimate attention, if you get my drift, from a large tattooed man called Big Willy. The bad guy would have gone on to head a medium-sized corporation and got a half-page passing mention in Fortune at the age of fifty-five. And the girl would have bought herself a consolation BMW, maxed out her Tiffany's store card, grown a fat ass, and passed away peacefully in her bed at a ripe age from overeating and boredom.

That is how the world behaves ninety percent of the time.

There are exceptions of course. There are those lucky few among us for whom the word "justice" has had meaning. There are those few for whom "love" has not simply been a word fragment that is immediately followed by the word fragment "making". But that is the exception. One out of ten.

For most of the people in this world, nice words like justice, love, etc. are fantasies. And those people for whom this is so, they are the ones who buy these books. The one in ten don't. They have no need. The nine out of ten do.

And that is why these novels sell. Because nine out of ten want to believe the escapist fantasy that this is how the world works.

In conclusion, all humour (black, or otherwise) aside, The Count of Monte Cristo is a pretty good read. At least it seemed that way when I read it many, many moons ago. Go read it.

Avoid the movie.

An Offer

I have never understood religion. I suddenly lament this because I realize that this is a serious shortcoming, mainly because it puts me in the minority and as a result, sometimes on the defensive. I am tired of being in the minority and defending myself, often against close friends and family. 

So I would like to make an offer on this blog, to the five readers of this blog.

As so many people never tire of telling me, some things require belief, not rationality [**]. 

Okay, I'm down with that. 

I understand the belief versus rationality thing. But there is a certain thing that I find puzzling about the willingness to believe. Here's the offer. If this paradox, which I mention below, is explained away by someone willing to make the effort, I will immediately come around, fall to my knees, and drink the Kool-Aid.

Here's the paradox. I have noticed that there is an inverse relationship between claims and belief. The taller the claim, the shorter the duration of critical thinking assigned to it by human beings. 

Here is an example. If a human being is told that a particular brand of toothpaste is good for his teeth or a particular investment will double his money, he says, "Oh yeah? Show me." If that same human being is told that subscribing to a fuzzy, other-worldly, non-demonstrable, non-repeatable philosophy will save his soul, he says, "Where do I sign up?"

I need someone to explain this to me.


[**] Note that I choose my words carefully and contrast "belief" with "rationality", not "belief" with "thought". Just as it requires thought to rationalize, it requires thought to believe. We are constantly being asked to accept on faith various sorts of claims: marketing claims, spiritual claims, and emotional claims. Sometimes the claims are competing claims. So how--without some thought--does one choose *what* to believe? Even belief, it would appear, requires some sort of deliberation. In fact, if you really want to nitpick, rational people are also believers, only that they demand a much higher statistical significance before they will believe. Put another way, they demand a lower p-value. Even the most hardcore rationalists accept, say, 1% of a claim on faith. The difference between a believer and a rational empiricist is one of degree, not category.

Israel Again

Human conflict is a biological problem. It is the nature of the species. Humans are territorial and defend their turf with aggression. We also think that more turf is better so we take by might what we are not born into. So one might say that the Arab-Israeli conflict is a biological problem. But that sounds odd. So let's look at some history.

Israel seems to be the perennial bad boy to a lot of people. I don't really know why this is the case. I am guessing at least part of the reason is that a lot of people tend to favour the underdog in a fight. Everybody wants to see the little guy win. Nobody likes a bully. The Arabs are seen as the underdogs in this fight and Israel as the bully. Let's examine this historically. I have been studying this stuff after a recent conversation and now know enough to be dangerous.

I will focus on the early history of the Arab-Israeli conflict, because that is where the genesis of the problem is. Since those early days, neither side can claim moral high ground because both sides have been guilty of assassinations, massacres, war, and terrorism.

Here's how it all started. (History majors can fuck off. I am not saying anything that isn't in any decent textbook. The rest of you gather around.)

Before 1947, Palestine was a mandated territory. A mandated territory is land that is taken from the losing side in a war and placed under the administration of the victor. Since Palestine was a part of the Ottoman Empire and the Ottoman Empire disintegrated after the defeat of Turkey in the First World War, Palestine was placed under British Administration. In the 1920s, Palestine had the following population profile: 80% Muslim, 11% Jews, 9% Christian and others.

This profile changed--mainly because of the influx of Jews fleeing persecution in post World War I Europe--and by 1947, Palestine was 67% Muslim and 33% Jewish. I want to note here that these numbers are similar to the percentages of Hindus and Muslims in British India, before the partition of India in 1947. Also, just like the Muslims of British India wanted an Islamic homeland, so too some Jews raised a call for a Jewish homeland in Palestine. This movement became known as Zionism. In contrast to the Muslim demand for a separate homeland in India though, not all Zionists necessarily wanted a separate Jewish state. Theodor Herzl, the founder of the Zionist movement envisioned Jews, Christians and Muslims living together in harmony. I quote from Wikipedia, that fountainhead of all wisdom.
"...but are to be brought about simply by grouping all the best efforts and ideals of every race and nation; and each such effort is quoted and referred to in such a manner as to show that Altneuland ("Old-New land"), though blossoming through the skill of the Jew, will in reality be the product of the benevolent efforts of all the members of the human family.

Herzl envisioned a Jewish state that was devoid of most aspects of Jewish culture. He did not envision the Jewish inhabitants of the state being religious, or even speaking Hebrew. Proponents of a Jewish cultural rebirth, such as Ahad Ha'am were critical of Altneuland."

And this:
"Other Zionists believed in Labor Zionism, and had strong socialist leanings. They organized the labor movement in Palestine, and joined with the Palestinian masses in campaigns for improved wages and working conditions."

Note that this is not to say that Zionism was a picture of sugary benevolence. Revisionist Zionism was extreme and said that Jews could not live together with Arabs.

It seems to me that the other difference between Zionism and the Two-Nation Theory with Indian Muslims was that Zionism was born in response to a real persecution of Jews in Europe, whereas the Two-Nation movement was born simply because Muslims imagined that they would be discriminated against in Hindu-majority India. Thedor Herzl was exposed to anti-Semitism first-hand as a journalist while covering the the Dreyfuss Affair in France and was personal witness to French mobs marching and shouting "Death to the Jews!" on the streets of Paris. That may have set off some alarms. Just sayin'.

In any case, I am not defending Zionism. I suppose that every movement that is based on ethnicity is to a degree abhorrent and brings the world just that much closer to ruin. So I would simply like to say that up to this point, the situation in Arab-Jewish Palestine and that in Hindu-Muslim India was very similar. The parallels are there.

Then the fun started. Arabs started attacking Jews in Palestine.

The similarity breaks down there because as far as I know, no Hindus attacked Muslims in British India in response to Muslim separatism. The majority Arabs in Palestine, on the other hand, took to violence. The local Arabs repeatedly attacked the growing Jewish population during the years of the 1920s. In a riot in 1929 for instance, 67 Jews were massacred in Hebron. In the summer of 1935, Arabs destroyed thousands of Jewish farms and orchards and attacked and killed Jews. Entire Jewish communities such as those at Beisan were uprooted.

The Grand Mufti of Jerusalem spent his time fruitfully and well, collaborating with the Nazis during the Second World War and making radio broadcasts asking Muslims to ally with Germany in annihilating Jews. In one broadcast, he said: "Arabs, arise as one man and fight for your sacred rights. Kill Jews wherever you find them. This pleases God, history, and religion. This saves your honor. God is with you." Such a nice man. I bet he has nice grandkids too.

Now Jews are just like Hindus but with two important differences--they have a backbone and a pair between their legs. So they decided that passively getting killed and then migrating en masse--both of which Hindus have fine tuned to a precision art form--just wouldn't cut it for them. They also noticed that the British had no desire of protecting them from the Arabs. So they organized.

They created an organization called The Haganah (Hebrew: The Defense) to protect their communities. The Haganah eventually became the Israeli Army. The period from 1936-45 was therefore a little different for the Arabs. The armed Arab uprising of 1936 against the British and the Jews was brutally countered by the Haganah and the British. 5000 Palestinians died. The Haganah was no campfire organization. They were brutal and countered brutality with even more brutality.

The Arab uprising of 1936 sent the message that Jews and Arabs could not get along and that some sort of partition plan was required. So the UN came up with one in 1947. The plan, called Resolution 181, proposed that Palestine be divided up into an Arab state and a Jewish state, approximately evenly in terms of land area. The Arabs would keep the all the fertile highlands and one-third of the coastline. The Jews would get 50% of the land but a large portion of this land would include the Negev Desert. The resolution was passed in the General Assembly, with 33 countries voting for the plan and 13 countries voting against. India, ever the international nerdy good boy with the round glasses, voted against the plan. Ten Islamic nations including Pakistan also voted against the plan.

As an aside, I don't find it surprising that Pakistan voted against the plan, but I do find it ironic. An irony no doubt lost on the Pakis themselves. Because I would think that the Pakis, of all people, would be totally okay with this sort of partitioning of stuff and dividing of people. 

But not when the Partition involves taking land away from Muslims, eh, you fucking Paki piece of shit hypocrite cunts?

Uh, okay. Moving right along...

The Jews acquiesced to the plan; the Arabs did not. No surprises there. 

Great Britain refused to implement the plan because it was not acceptable to both parties. So the plan was never officially implemented and Great Britain withdrew from the mandated territory of Palestine in 1948.

Six Arab states--Transjordan, Iraq, Egypt, Syria, Lebanon, and Saudi Arabia--along with the Palestinian Arabs and volunteers from other Arab nations (notably Yemen), immediately attacked the Palestinian Jews.

The war ended in the defeat of the Arab forces. The newly created state of Israel essentially drew its own borders and grabbed 70% of Palestine. It is ironic that Israel did so well in the 1948 war. Ironic because the Haganah played a large part in the war, and if one remembers, the Haganah was created and strengthened by the Arab attacks on the Jews in the 1920s and 30s. Life sometimes comes full circle, wot?

History is full of what ifs. What if the Arabs had decided to get along with the Jews after the British? Would we have a single country called Palestine with an Arab majority and large Jewish minority co-existing? Or would some Jewish group have tried to forcefully execute the UN plan? Would there even be an Israel today had the Arabs not attacked? What would have happened if the Arabs had won the war? Would the Jews be massacred and the survivors living in refugee camps now instead of the Palestinians? In other words, would we have a mirror image of the problem that we have now? Would that somehow be more acceptable? What do you think?

In any case, instead of the 50% of high fertile land (at a minimum, if the UN Plan had been followed) or 100% of the land (had Palestine decided to remain one country) that the Palestinians would have had if they had decided to live with the Jews in peace, they found that Israel, victors of the war, drew its own borders and took 70% of Mandatory Palestine. 

Now could Israel have won the war and then returned the land as an unilateral gesture of magnanimity? Yes, they could have. But one thing got in the way--they were not Hindus and therefore not stupid. Which moron would return land to its attackers just so that the land could be used as a base to attack them again? Indians, you should know the answer to this one. Does anyone remember the 13,000 sq km of Pakistani territory and 90,000 Paki POWs during 1971? Can you say 1971, people? Give me a Hallelujah! Can you smack your foreheads and go Aaaahh, people? 

[Short prayer: If by chance Hindus are right and there is reincarnation and shit, I do not want to be reborn a Hindu. Please god, anything but a limpdick Hindu.]

I would like to reiterate at this point that since 1948, neither side has covered itself in glory. Israeli warplanes have bombed Palestinian refugee camps, Israeli soldiers have stood by while the Phalangists--Lebanese Christian militia--have massacred Palestinians in Sabra and Shatila. The PLO has launched attacks against Israeli civilians using Southern Lebanon as its base. The PLO has played a part in the Lebanese Civil War and massacred Lebanese Maronite Christians--who were Israeli allies--in Damour.

So who do we blame, given the events in 1948 and prior that started this all? I don't know about you, but does anyone seriously expect me personally to have any respect or sympathy for the political decisions that the Palestinians (or Lebanon and the other Arab states) took in 1948 that brings us to this sorry state of affairs?

And of course, as noted above, Israel is no angel either. Here's my take. They managed to carve out a homeland for themselves the hard way. They had no opportunity to plead and bargain for their freedom over a table, like some countries that we shall not name. As a result, they quite likely have a very fixed idea of what it will take to hold on to that freedom. They react, and react violently, to any threat they perceive to that freedom. Sometimes with overwhelming, brute force. Is this warranted? An average Indian, not having any first-hand clue to this mindset since generations, will likely respond in the negative.

Darn Israel and its wars

I recently had a chat with a grey-haired professor about the Israeli invasion of Lebanon. The prof seemed to have a very one-sided sympathy for Lebanon that I found puzzling. 

He started by asking me if I knew a whole lot about the history of the conflict. I confessed I did not (I truly don't). 

He asked me about the civilian casualties caused by Israel. (Aside: Since when has any warring party, Israel or otherwise, ever been overly worried about civilian casualties?)

I answered that I am greatly pained by the civilian casualties and wished that it would stop, but what I thought or felt probably didn't matter. I added that my only hope was that at least some good will come of this whole sorry mess if Hezbollah disintegrates and as a result, the world sees a little less Islamic fundamentalism. The alternative--looking at it in a zero-sum way--was to wish for a dissolution of Israel. Since the dissolution of a country is bound to be more painful in human terms than the dissolution of a non-state actor like Hezbollah (Extinction of Hezbollah is not the same thing as the extinction of Lebanon), I said that I would, on balance, prefer to see the dissolution of Hezbollah. I said that I thought this was the most positive way of looking at a very negative situation.

I also think that there is probably no positive-sum way of looking at the situation given the unfortunate reality that the parties to the conflict themselves subscribe to a zero-sum view. Hezbollah publicly calls for the destruction of Israel and Israel in turn wants to wipe out Hezbollah.

The prof didn't like what I said. He went a little red in the face and suggested that everybody, including I, should roundly condemn Israel. I replied that if I did any condemning of any kind, I would condemn both sides equally. And since equal condemnation of both sides would have the net result of canceling each other out and be politically and philosophically indistinguishable from condemning no one at all, I would rather save my breath than engage in a philosophically meaningless exercise.

Then we had dinner and went home.

The Cold Within

Six humans trapped by happenstance In bleak and bitter cold. Each one possessed a stick of wood Or so the story’s told. Their dying fire in ...