We are developing the social individualist meta-context for the future. From the very serious to the extremely frivolous... lets see what is on the mind of the Samizdata people.
Samizdata, derived from Samizdat /n. - a system of clandestine publication of banned literature in the USSR [Russ.,= self-publishing house]
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History has shown us that communist nations are frequently obsessed with symbolism. Even the most mundane alterations to edifices physical, ideological, political – you name it – can signify profound shifts within the hidden inner workings of such regimes. North Korea provides a timely example.
The dead communist arsehole sadly departed Kim Il Sung is infamously referred to as the Great Leader by brainwashed communist apparatchiks adoring and grateful beneficiaries of the socialist Juche revolution. Kim Jong Il, Kim Il Sung’s repugnant spawn son is now also termed “Great Leader” at the official North Korean website, the Korean Friendship Association. Interesting. Kim Jong Il used to be known as “Dear Leader”.
(See http://www.korea-dpr.com/pmenu.htm for further details – the KFA bounces all embedded links to its precious virtual domain)
UPDATE:
His grandmother, Kang Pan Sok, his grandfather’s younger brother.
A “that explains something” moment regarding Kim Jong Il’s lineage, gleaned from his “brief” 160 page history fielded by the ever-admiring KFA. Found here (pdf).
Just a quick plug for a good friend of mine. Steve Edwards, author of the now-defunct Daily Slander, is back with his new blog, The Raving Wingnut. Steve’s posts are still as lucid and pleasingly inflammatory as ever – true to form. Welcome back, Stevie.
Do drop by, and whilst there, take a closer look at Steve’s “Charlie don’t surf” photo. That shot was taken in Yun’nan province of south-western China – not Vietnam! – at a spartan guesthouse along the Tiger Leaping Gorge trek Steve and I embarked upon last year (my second time through that glorious part of the world). And note Steve’s Cherie Blair-esque grin is clasping a particularly cheap and nasty Chinese cigar. He’s all class, that fella.
My home town of Perth recently bore witness to perhaps the most shocking crime in recent memory around these parts – earlier this week, an eight year old girl was raped and murdered, her body dumped in the disabled toilet of a popular Perth shopping centre just minutes after she was separated from her parents. Now a strange twist has created even more public interest in the case. The individual apprehended and charged with the offence, twenty one year old Dante Arthurs, is rumoured to be one of the two boys who killed James Bulger back in 1993.
There are a number of coincidences that have given rise to the aforementioned rumour. Perth’s local rag, The West Australian, notes that
a Sue and Ron Arthurs lived in Surrey, south of London and left to return to Australia in 2002. Around the same time, the Bulger killers were believed to be entering a secret relocation program
More chillingly, The West – in its typical muckraking fashion – actually made the link between Dante Arthurs and the Bulger case last year. It put the question regarding Dante’s identity to the family then; long before he committed the offence he is currently being held for. It is quite remarkable that Dante, quizzed about his identity vis-Á -vis the Bulger case, would later go on to commit such a similar crime.
When the rumour surfaced, the Western Australian police force and justice system immediately rushed to scotch it. British authorities declared it untrue; the Bulger killers were not relocated to Australia. The Arthurs family vehemently denied that Dante Arthurs is an assumed identity, masking one of the Bulger killers. They produced a birth notice, published in The West Australian in 1984, declaring Dante’s birth. This would appear to conclusively bury the rumour, however some have pondered whether the birth notice simply illustrates the depth of Dante’s cover. Personally, I suspect it is more than likely that Dante is not a re-identified John Venables or Robert Thompson, and the startling coincidences linking the two cases are no more than startling coincidences. However, it must be noted that all the parties who have denied the rumour also have a strong interest in ensuring the confidentiality of such an arrangement, if it indeed exists. If child-killers like Venables or Thompson were released, given new identities and shipped off to foreign lands – only to re-offend there in similar circumstances – the political consequences would be enormous. It would at least spell the end of such expedient methods of dealing with society’s most notorious (but presumably rehabilitated) malefactors; a scenario authorities in Britain and Australia would rather not suffer. If Arthurs is one of the Bulger killers, I have no doubt that authorities would sooner lie about it if they think such evasiveness could head off the ensuing major international scandal that would inevitably follow the breaking of such news.
Unfortunately for any government agency attempting a cover-up, if the rumours are correct about Dante Arthurs, I think it likely that the truth will be explosively revealed here and in Britain sooner rather than later. There is so much public interest in the Dante Arthurs case that every angle of this tragic affair will be exhaustively probed by investigative journalists. No doubt they are at it now – wading through birth and death records, electoral rolls and the like, hunting for inconsistencies – whilst hounding their snouts within the public service for information. A devastating public service leak is a strong possibility; if there is anything to leak, that is. I still maintain that all the journalistic investigations will probably come to naught, as Dante Arthurs is most likely not Jon Venables nor Robert Thompson. However, I may be wrong and we could be seeing the early stages of a scandal that will shake the justice systems of Great Britain and Australia to their foundations.
It has been a while since my last visit to the excellent India Uncut blog – too long.
First laugh – Amit’s latest post links to a chef dispensing advice concerning prawns. As an Aussie, I was rather amused to discover some poor Seppo writing in, wondering what to do with that whole ‘vein thing’ running down the back of a prawn. Kiss it goodbye or let it lie? Basically, if you bought your prawns to impress – as a stand-out ingredient in some culinary masterpiece you’ve had up your sleeve for months – then you should clean them. Even if the prawns are merely a somewhat important ingredient amongst a few others, you should clean them. If you are using those bland tiddlers from Thailand – to add an interesting texture to your gruel or something along those lines – then don’t bother cleaning them.
I swear, I was born with that innate knowledge. Bewdy, mate. Throw another… oh, never mind.
Now, if you bought your prawns to impress, and in doing so you selected those aforementioned bland Thai tiddlers – then you should clean them, because that’s your punishment for being a tightarse. Apologies, the one minute I spent looking through idiotic online Strine dictionaries did not yield the definition of “tightarse”. Note to the confused; if you are a tightarse, you are cheap. And you know who you are.
Second laugh – some politically incorrect Indian astrologer has decided that “Mumbai” is somewhat unlucky, and “Bombay” is rather more auspicious. Whatever. All the terribly clever weathermen on Australia’s two publicly-funded television broadcasters take great pride in saying “Moom-Bye”, like it is a signifier of one’s magnificent cultural adjustment. A decisive strike in your valiant quest to bash down those imperialist Anglosized verbal imposts, comrade! When I was in Bombay, I did not meet a single Indian who termed their fair city ‘Mumbai’ – although a lot of Western tourists did. Having said that, perhaps the Indians did too, because I believe the correct pronounciation is “Mum (like your non-American, Pommy/Aussie mother) – Bay”, and – if you say it quickly (which is invariably the case, because Indians are the greatest communicators in the world) – that sounds rather similar to “Bombay”. Then again, I do not know, because I do not speak Hindi, and am basically a stupid Westerner.
Reflecting on my recent, rather intemperate post about whaling, I have decided that I may have been a little too hard-line on the issue. Despite the current miniscule numbers of non-Minke whales culled by Japan (only Japan hunts species other than Minkes), it would not hurt to further encourage population growth in less populous whale species.
Thus, in an imperfect world where the chances of internationally roaming whales ever being made the property of individuals is about zero, I suggest a compromise with the pro-whaling nations as a best case scenario. Make an offer to Norway, Iceland and Japan to lift the IWC moratorium, in return for all IWC members (with the obvious but unspecified target being Japan) agreeing to the following stipulations:
i) all subsidies to whaling industries must be incrementally phased out
ii) whale hunting must be limited to the two Minke whale species with abundant populations, until the population numbers of other whale species have recovered sufficiently to remove them from the upper reaches of the ‘endangered’ list
Naturally, these conditions need refining; how to decide population numbers, how quickly the subsidies will be dropped etc. Regardless, if these two stipulations are broadly accepted by all parties, Japan can take such an agreement back to its belligerent and powerful pro-whaling lobby and present it as an ostensible overwhelming victory. Truth is, by letting market forces set demand – and hence supply – stipulation one would eventually harpoon (sorry, couldn’t resist) the whaling industry in that country, and stipulation two would protect the less numerous species of whale in the process. I would not expect the perpetually emotionally overwhelmed anti-whaling lobby to accede to such a proposal, but I think it stands as the most effective way of durably cutting back the industry – if that is what consumers demand. Let the market decide the future of whaling.
Oh, how quickly smug, self-righteous smiles can turn into outraged gasping. I was quite pleased to see Japan, Norway, Iceland and others eventually get one over the woolly-thinking Western mouth-foamers at the recent International Whaling Commission meeting in St Kitts & Nevis. Of course, this is a mostly symbolic victory for those in favour of harvesting resources. In a practical sense, it may improve the pro-whaling camp’s ability to set the agenda at future IWC get-togethers. This achievement was dwarfed, however, by the far more notable victory enjoyed by the anti-whalers earlier in the conference. The Japanese attempted to enact secret ballot voting at IWC conferences, and failed. This is a considerable strategic defeat, because secret ballots would have significantly enhanced the appeal of Japan’s chequebook diplomacy in the eyes of swinging IWC members, who might otherwise be concerned about domestic political consequences should they choose to vote with the Japanese. Regardless of the relative unimportance of the Japanese camp’s win – and the relative importance of the anti-whaling bloc’s success at the meeting – the usual suspects are up in arms, like they always are. More on that later.
I believe Japan would require a two-thirds majority of members to overturn the moratorium on whaling that is currently in place, and they have no hope of mustering those kinds of numbers any time soon. Personally, I think Japan should simply follow Norway’s lead and unilaterally discard the moratorium. Stop using this ‘scientific research’ nonsense as a pretext for a perfectly legitimate operation. The Japanese – and any other nation – have an absolute right to harvest the whale resource in international waters. They do not need to make excuses to anyone. It is time they looked the anti-whaling hysterics like Australia, Great Britain, New Zealand and their shrieking NGO allies in the eye and told the lot of them to get stuffed.
Take Greenpeace genius Danny Kennedy, walking the usual carping course:
It would be a stupidity really for civilisation to go back to this old barbaric business – which there is no demand for, I’ll note, in this day and age – and actually deplete the asset that the whale-watched business is based on.
Stupidity? How is this for stupidity, you stupid, stupid, stupid man; if there is no demand for whaling, why do you work for an organisation that helps make the dispute more intractable by whipping up ‘pro’ and ‘anti’ mobs and creating political obduracy in Japan over the issue? Can you not see why Japan subsidises its whaling industry? How long would the Japanese government subsidise its whaling industry if the passion was sucked out of the debate? Why not let whaling die a natural death – as it otherwise would in a decade or so – if left unperturbed by environmental crusaders? Do you revel in being counterproductive towards your stated aims, Danny Kennedy?
If anyone is interested, I have previously made the case for dropping the moratorium on whaling here.
Hrm. Sorry to plunge you all into the bizarre depths of DailyKos twice in the space of a week, but some of the goings on there are quite amusing. If I was a psychologist, I would say professionally intriguing. Take DailyKos commenter “CheChe” and the – erm – unusual relationship he appears to have with his daughter. Here’s an excerpt from his post, which is so tragi-comic it is hard not to laugh out loud when reading it:
I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a look of misery and dejection on the face of my daughter as I just did a moment ago.
I sat down with her on the sofa and (as calmly as I could) tried to explain to her why the Senate Republicans want to drain the treasury in order to give every American a $100 check. I tried to keep my voice steady, but it became increasingly difficult – the rage and feelings of helplessnes were just too much. I think my daughter could tell something was wrong. I found myself at such a loss for words – nothing made any sense; nothing makes sense anymore. I finally had to admit, “Honey, I just don’t know – I don’t know what’s going on in this country anymore…”
When I finished her lower lip started to tremble and her eyes began to fill with tears, “Daddy” she said, “why are the Republicans doing this to the country?” Well, that was it for me: I finally fell apart. She just fell into my arms and we both began sobbing for several minutes.
Er…right. How old is this child? Does she even know what $100 is worth? Of course, the policy itself is utterly ridiculous, but that’s hardly the point.
Now, there is something really odd about this CheChe character’s comments. He takes the exact same wordage from a previous comment he wrote relaying his daughter’s earlier misery, and then superimposes another Kos talking point as the source of his little girl’s current terror and sadness to create a new saga:
I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a look of misery and dejection on the face of my daughter as I just did a moment ago. She just couldn’t understand why the President would be spying on everyone. “Even my Grandma?” she asked pitifully. […] When I finished her lower lip started to tremble and her eyes began to fill with tears, “Daddy” she said, “why are the Republicans doing this to the country?” Well, that was it for me: I finally fell apart. She just fell into my arms and we both began sobbing for several minutes.
They have a lot of these kinds of chats; here’s another. Same scenario, different bogeyman:
I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a look of misery and dejection on the face of my daughter as I just did a moment ago. She just couldn’t understand why the President would be going to Iraq when so many things are wrong in this country. “Doesn’t Mr. Bush care about us anymore?” she asked pitifully.
I sat down with her on the sofa and (as calmly as I could) tried to explain to her why the President seems to be abandoning his country. “Honey, I think his boss, Mr. Rove, sent Mr. Bush out of the country in order to keep himself out of the newspapers. You see, he wasn’t sure if he was going to be arrested today or not, and so he planned Mr. Bush’s trip ahead of time just in case…”
And so on. By now, most would have twigged to the fact that this CheChe fellow might be playing a little jape on the Kos kids. But no. Check out the number of people who “recommended” one of his posts (26), versus those who pointed him out as a troll (2). It is amazing that these plainly fictional tales of crocodile-tear woe hold currency with parts of the American left. To be fair, some people on the thread pointed out CheChe as a rather obvious fraud. His subsequent denial was true to form and hilarious:
I’m simply not going to apologize for loving and comforting my daughter. […] There’s just not enough time to always be writing a new story each and every time something happens, and since this is what happened, it seems fair. Since we lost her mother there hasn’t been a lot of free time around here.
Classic.
(Hat tip: Zoe Brain)
One of my all-time favourite bloggers – who also happens to be the funniest man in the blogosphere – is under attack from DailyKos contributor ‘dday’, who does not think Harry Hutton is particularly funny at all. This post raised the ire of ‘dday’ and provoked this response from the little pet. ‘dday’ starts off by qualifying his monumental whinge with a “some of my best friends are black, but…” type defence of his sense of humour :
I’m not above making fun of people. Actually I do it for sport.
For one so allegedly adept at the art of piss-taking, he does not seem to understand that whole irreverence thing. Later, ‘dday’ flashes his humour credentials again – just so everyone is sure it is not him with the problem :
I make jokes continually, so I’m pretty up on my joke construction.
You can imagine the sort of emasculated, PC jokes this guy would crack. I bet he’s about as funny as a gender feminist. Anyway, if the plight of those living in intellectual poverty concerns you, take a look at the “debate” via the links provided above. The related comments thread on DailyKos and that attached to the offending post at Hutton’s are also worth a read if you enjoy the spectacle of uncomprehending, outraged mewling from humourless dolts.
Good to see the stalwarts of the entertainment industry still have it in spades.
(Seen on Manolo’s Shoe Blog. Manolo also seems to have a fetish for a certain German entertainer.)
Tim Blair is one of the first bloggers to note the killing of Abu Musab Zarqawi – the target of an American bombing raid. I feel a little ghoulish celebrating the death of anyone, however this is brilliant news. Zarqawi’s untouchability had grown into a legend; he represented an on-the-ground inspiration for many would-be jihadis. Many touted him as the true head of al-Qaeda, vital in his position and leading from the front – in contrast to Osama bin Laden – the largely sidelined nominal leader. The removal of this valuable piece from the game is a major coup for American forces.
UPDATE : Iraqi blog IraqTheModel claims
Zarqawi’s identity was confirmed through his fingerprints.
Reports of his death seem a lot more unequivocal this time, as opposed to earlier claims that turned out to be false. The man is almost certainly dead.
The refrain that “environmentalism is the new religion” is common enough, and there is much truth in such a statement. Several years ago, when I was a confused, largely ignorant and idealistic socialist – thus environmentalist – someone (who was also partly responsible for my enlightenment) challenged me to consider the way I critically analyse the various doomsday statements environmentalists were and are prone to making. Even then, in a deep state of group-think, I had to admit to myself that the illiterate peasants of 16th century Europe probably responded to their priests’ exhortations in a similar way.
However, why is this? As a species, most of us are profoundly limited to our own tiny perspectives. For example, we look out over what is actually a gleaming Western city of unparalleled cleanliness, temporarily cloaked in off-coloured smoke caused by a transient climatic event known as a temperature inversion. This event gets us thinking. We think about how we live in only one of a great many cities. Many cities are bigger than ours and many cities are dirtier than ours. Our city is so ugly right now – imagine what effect this ugliness, multiplied across the world, is having on ‘the environment’. It looks bad here, and there must be a lot worse elsewhere. What is the cumulative effect of all this ugliness? It must be appalling. We are ruining our environment.
Of course, such considerations ignore the phenomenal machinations of the earth’s natural processes which dwarf our own so-called ‘footprint’. For all our technological advances, if humankind were to be deleted from the planet overnight, I believe our impact on the surface of the earth would be more or less completely erased within half a millennium – the blink of an eye in terms of this planet’s history. Our earth’s environment is durable because it’s been forged by billions of years of evolution. However, we humans only have an interest in our short lifespans. A priest tells you the marauding army that swept through your village, raped your wife and burnt your house is down to the fact that you have sinned by not obeying some political expedience which nevertheless failed to appear in the popularly-unread bible. An environmentalist tells you your dirty city – as evidenced by an unsightly, temporary smog or something similar – is destroying the earth, despite the fact that the science your environmentalist stakes their legitimacy on is less than kind to such a thesis. Both scenarios resonate with a huge number of individuals in their respective ages.
Humanity’s limited perspectives are a terrifying prospect, and today the most threatening manifestation of this can be found in the widespread acceptance of the environmentalist movement and its demands. We hear environmentalists claiming to act in the names of their unborn children and grandchildren, yet so many of the rest of us do not realise that if their demands were played out to a logical conclusion, the children of tomorrow would be considerably less comfortable; their future considerably less secure than at present.
And here I am, stumped by my own meagre perspective. I am an individual butting against the forces of vast armies who pressure and reassure each other into forwarding a creed I know will be ruinous for our species. They appear to be gaining a considerable amount of traction. How could I, an individual who firmly believes in the power of individuals, combat such a homogenous tide? Where to start, for starters. One thing I am sure of, however – the natural earth will go on, regardless of whether we decide to consign ourselves to misery and decline in our efforts to ensure that fact.
Jim Henson banged out these rather bizarre commercials – featuring a murdering psychopathic Kermit The Frog lookalike and a Cookie Monsteresque grump – before sharpening his act up and creating The Muppets.
See (a lot) more of the series here, and ponder why Wilkins Coffee is not a household name.
(Hat tip – Larvatus Prodeo)
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Who Are We? The Samizdata people are a bunch of sinister and heavily armed globalist illuminati who seek to infect the entire world with the values of personal liberty and several property. Amongst our many crimes is a sense of humour and the intermittent use of British spelling.
We are also a varied group made up of social individualists, classical liberals, whigs, libertarians, extropians, futurists, ‘Porcupines’, Karl Popper fetishists, recovering neo-conservatives, crazed Ayn Rand worshipers, over-caffeinated Virginia Postrel devotees, witty Frédéric Bastiat wannabes, cypherpunks, minarchists, kritarchists and wild-eyed anarcho-capitalists from Britain, North America, Australia and Europe.
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