Little more than a 15-minute nervous breakdown

At war's beginning, few men who wrote the news, and fewer still who broadcast it, could resist the purple technique of dire warnings, manic-depressive cycles, sweeping prognostications. Many a news commentator offered his audience little more than a 15-minute nervous breakdown. Not so Elmer Davis. His voice was calm, incisive, with a Hoosier twang as reassuring as Thanksgiving, as shrewd as a small-town banker.

[..]

But last week to Elmer Davis, as it must to all wartime officials, came pots of trouble. His ears had scarcely finished burning from attacks on the expense and political tone of Victory, the de luxe glamor magazine designed to sell the U.S. to the world as a kind of Hollywood 3,000 miles square, when his sprawling OWI issued a cartoon booklet on the life of President Roosevelt, also designed for distribution abroad. A U.S. soldier sent a copy to New York's Republican Congressman John Taber. Mr. Taber, who has a low irritation point, was moved to cry: "Purely political propaganda, designed entirely to promote a fourth term and a dictatorship. . . . How much longer are the American people going to have that kind of stuff pulled on them?"

- TIME, March 15, 1943

And an egg in his beer

I'm not particularly interested in 1940's history or movies, more than other periods, it's just that this is where I happen to be at the moment. Which is why it is so fun to stumble about in the old archives of TIME Magazine.

Here's a fantastic - and possibly, hopefully ironic - letter to the editor, from the Dec. 18, 1944 issue:

Sirs: The G.I. Bill of Rights, while practically assuring every veteran a Chris-Craft speed boat, two cars in every garage, a home in the country, a penthouse, and an egg in his beer, has, in our opinion, failed to deal with a question which is destined to present one of the most controversial issues of the postwar world. To wit: Will the returning G.I. be able to maintain the same balance of power in his home that he enjoyed in the halcyon days, or will the female of the species assert herself and declare the "old order" relegated to the limbo of nostalgic memories? . . . Upon settlement of this question rests the stability of the state and the determination of whether G.I. Joe is to enjoy the freedoms he fought for. (PVT.) ED G. LANCASTER Camp Claiborne, La.

Also, a first-hand account of D-Day.

Han meinte at det hadde vore særleg mange prestedrap i Telemark

Når Peder [Claussøn Friis] vart innblanda i slåsskampar med kniv, kan det ha spela inn at han var prest; han skreiv sjølv at bøndene ikkje kunne fordra lutherske prestar. Den saka han fekk mest strev med, var å gjenreise respekten for tienda. Bøndene hadde aldri vore glade for å betale ein tidel av avlingane sine til kyrkja, men dei hadde vent seg til å gjere det, og dei hadde sjølve glede av det fine nettverket av vakre kyrkjer i sitt eige nærmijlø. Men så kom reformasjonen. Dei norske biskopane forsvann, mange bygningar rotna ned, og dei fleste kyrkjene som var i bruk, vart fattigslege og triste. Gudstenestene vart framande for folk, og folkelig katolsk religiøsitet var motarbeidd og forfølgd. I denne stoda avskaffe kongen i København bondeluten, ein firedel av tienden som bøndene i katolsk tid fekk disponere for dei fattige i soknet. Bøndene over heile landet nekta å gi avkall på bondeluten og betale full tiend til styresmaktene: ein tredel til kongen, ein tredel til soknepresten og ein tredel til kyrkjebygningen i soknet. [..]

Peder Claussøn var i skriftene sine ikkje i tvil om at det var hatet til reformasjonen som var fremste årsaka til bondemotstanden mot tienda i hans tid. Bøndene fann seg "meget nødig" i lutherdommen, og i somme len hadde dei bode styresmaktene store pengar for å sleppe å få lutherske prestar. Peder var overtydd om at mange prestar hadde blitt fordrivne og drepne. Han meinte at det hadde vore særleg mange prestedrap i Telemark.

- Øystein Rian, For Norge, kjempers fødeland

Noe å anlegge et liv efter

Jan hadde mot til å sprenge båter og til mange andre ting, men til å si sin mening var han ikke modig nok. Denne mening ville få for store konsekvenser, hvis den ble uttalt. Og han var redd for at den var gal, objektivt uriktig, falsk. Hvis den var gal, ville den bringe ham på kant med verden, gjøre ham hjemløs, - nettop fordi den var objektivt uriktig satte den ham ut av verdensordningen. Å Herre Gud, dette ord "objektivt"! Hva inneholder det ikke av straff og fordømmelse! Objektivt uriktig! Hva er der igjen av oss, når vi tenker objektivt uriktig?

Wastrups yndlingsord hadde den siste tiden i Norge vært "hensiktsmessig". Igjen et objektivt ord, en rettesnor, noe å anlegge et liv efter. Jan hadde ennu ikke lært at det er bedre å uttale en gal tanke, enn ikke å våge det. Han slet med det nu, det var begynt å løsne i ham, og det skremte ham, jaget hjertet op i halsen på ham, gjorde ham livredd. For bak det å tenke selv, står verdensrummets kulde, dødens ensomhet. Jan satte foten over terskelen, blev skremt og trakk den tilbake igjen, satte den over igjen, trakk den tilbake. Han kikket ut, satte foten foran sig, - og plutselig opdaget han at det han hadde gjort var en uigjenkallelig handling. Av alle våre handlinger er ingen så evige, så uomstøtelige, så varige, så uigjenkallelige som våre tanker. Jan kunne ikke lenger komme inn gjennom døren, tilbake over terskelen.

- Jens Bjørneboe, Under en hårdere himmel

Fordi man tilfeldigvis mangler noen paragrafer å dømme dem efter

- Det vil bli hårdt, men det vil bli en ny start for vårt land. Hvis vi starter med vår nye frihet på en slik måte, med rak rygg og rene hender, da - og bare da - vil vi kunne gjøre godt igjen det onde som er blitt tilføyet folket. En fullstendig kompromissløs moral og lovlydighet kan forvandle disse onde, meget onde år til en storhetstid. [..] Jeg er gammel jurist, og jeg vet hvad som kan komme. Jeg vet hvad som kan gjøres med en lov. Jeg vet hvordan rettslærde kan tåkelegge hele rettsvesenet for alle legfolk. Det bekymrer mig. Og det bekymrer mig at dere unge, at du ikke skjønner dette.

Jan la ansiktet i hendene. Så sa han:

- Det er allikevel umenneskelig og umoralsk hvis man skal la nazistene gå i fred efterpå, fordi man tilfeldigvis mangler noen paragrafer å dømme dem efter. Det er en hån mot rettferdigheten. Det er juristeri og hårkløveri. Det er ingen synd på dem.

- Det er ikke for deres skyld de skal behandles efter loven. Men for vår skyld. [..] Vi har selv laget lovene, og først nu kommer vi til det øyeblikk da det blir hårdt å holde dem. Først når det koster noe å holde lovene, kan man vise at man har rygg til å bære dem.

- Jens Bjørneboe, Under en hårdere himmel

For han følger selv med på kjøpet

Det var på mange måter en dyster tid. Der var arbeidsoptøyer og arbeidsløshet. Den menneskelige "arbeidskraft" er ikke en vare som ustraffet kan kjøpes og selges efter den pris som markedsforholdene bestemmer. Av den simple grunn at mennesket selv må følge med "varen" og være tilstede når den brukes. Han kan ikke selge sin arbeidskraft som en kasse kålholder, for han følger selv med på kjøpet. En énsidig økonomisk betraktning av mennesket er like katastrofesvanger enten den skriver sig fra kapitalisten eller fra den sosialistiske planøkonomi. Ved de store fabrikker eller industristeder kom det til så alvorlige uroligheter, til så voldsomme optøyer at en og annen familiefar tar elgriflen ned av veggen, smører og steller den som til høstjakten, han legger patron i den og setter sig i hallen i villaen like bak glassdøren med riflen over knærne. Han skal forsvare hustru og barn, javel. Ikveld kan optøyene bli til alvor, de kan ledes i kanaler, de kan samles, bli til én stor elv som bryter alle demninger, en elv som blir rød av blod.

Herregud! De kloke kunne jo fortelle ham at Norge er et ublodig land. Et besindig, demokratisk land. Der vil aldri flyte blod av noen norsk borgerkrig. Allikevel sitter han der.

- Jens Bjørneboe, Under en hårdere himmel

En rifle og nevefull med patroner

Det er blitt en lidenskap, ja en besettelse for norsk ungdom å komme inn i flygevåpenet; jeg har sett dem slokne i ansiktet når de ikke fikk slippe til. Det er selvsagt en glans over dette våpenet som er så nytt og dristig; men forklaringen, tror jeg, går dypere enn det.

I aprildagene hjemme i Norge gikk de fleste av oss med en rifle og nevefull med patroner; det var så maktesløst. Mange som var for unge til å stå i noen avdeling, hadde enda mindre, sine tomme hender. Det tyske luftvåpens helter kunne vinne seier etter seier over de små hvitmalte trehusene som stod og lyste i midnattsolen.

Vi som drog ut, ville bryte denne avmektigheten i vårt eget sinn. Vi ville skaffe oss makt; og ingen enkelt soldat har slik makt som en jagerflyger. Han presser på en knapp, og 8 maskingevær gir ild; kanskje har han kanoner.

Hjemme var ett maskingevær en gave for en flokk soldater; to mann slet oppover bakkene i snøløysingene med det. Men flygeren har 1260 hestekrefter til å bære sitt mylder av våpen der hvor han vil. Det er han, han alene, som på noen sekunder kan brenne løs tusener av skudd.

En høy militær sjef har selvsagt større makt, men han må betale den beske prisen; han må ofre andre. Jagerflygeren betaler bare med seg selv; han er krigeren, i hans blankhet og renhet.

- Nordahl Grieg, Flagget

Inn i skjærgården hjemme og takke tyskerne for sist

Mannskapet ombord var unge folk, må være det. Denne båten som er skapt for fart og dristighet, krever menn som er i slekt med den selv. De minner vel mest om flygere, utsatt for omtrent samme psykiske og fysiske påkjenning: uke etter uke er de i beredskap av første grad, sover med klærne på, ferdig til å gå ut. Den dirrende hastigheten gjør det uråd noensinne å slappe av under fart; er det sjø, blir de dyvåte på et blunk. I jaget og sprøyten står det vesle mannskapet på dekket, i hvite gensere og stålhjelmer. De er utålmodige som skipet sitt, de er mennesker skapt for offensiv. De har ansiktene vendt framover. De omfatter båten sin med nidkjær lokalpatriotisme, og omtaler bekvemmelighetene på den øvrige norske marine (som sannelig ikke er overdådige) med hoderystende skepsis, de liker sine innsmett hvor det er utrolig at så mange mann kan sove, der er ikke til å være, bare til å hvile det aller nødvendigste. De vil brukes, brukes opp i denne desperate frihetskampen som nå er brutt løs i verden. Handling får de; men det de drømmer om er å gå - snart - med båtene sine, mange båter, inn i skjærgården hjemme og takke tyskerne for sist mellom øyer og skjær som de kjenner som lommen sin.

- Nordahl Grieg, Flagget

Dettane var stusslig

Når vi ikke hadde vakt i kjelleren, lå vi gjerne oppe i skogen. Det var alltid noe å se på: fly i angrep på krigsskip rett utenfor i den stille klare vårdagen, det var som en kamp mellom ørn og nise, bombemaskinen stupte ned og skipet jog til siden, stanset, skjøt fram igjen, og vass-søylene av bombene skjulte det nesten for øynene våre. Snart kom turen til oss på land, flyene gikk ned over skogen hvor vi lå, kastet brannbomber og skjøt med maskingevær på veier og stier; de var ute etter noe bestemt: i nabohuset her mellom trærne bodde den norske kongen. [Molde] ble bombet og tent i brann, på mangfoldige steder; flyene skjøt på enhver som prøvde å slokke. Så flammet alt, med den brennende kirken for siste gang kneisende opp over de små husenes ildebrann; ved dette synet av rødglødende rykende tilitetgjørelse overmannet følelsene en av våre gudbrandsdøler, og han tok sterkere i enn noengang før eller senere på turen: "Dettane var stusslig", utbrøt han.

- Nordahl Grieg, Flagget

At det vitterlig fantes enkelte bekker og elver i landet vårt

Flere tog med englendere var nå dradd oppover Raumadalen; en natt innskipet seks-syv hundre mann seg fra vår stasjon. De kom marsjerende ved midnatt og hadde bestilt toget sitt til kl. åtte om morgenen. Hele perrongen stod fullstablet av ammunisjonskasser. Da jeg visste at vi ble bombet allerede klokken fem, besvor jeg den engelske majoren om å komme av gårde før. Jeg viste ham jernbanevognene som stod borte i halvmørket og sa at der borte har vi det dyrebareste som landet eier, og han mumlet at han ville ikke for noen pris skade kongefamilien og de små prinsessene, og vi fikk faktisk ammunisjonskassene opp i et tog og vekk en halv time før bombeflyene kom. Disse troppene var prektig utstyrt; særlig vakte det min nysgjerrighet at de hadde noen berg av hvite bokser stablet opp på perrongen, påskrevet ordet "water". Jeg tenkte at dette var muligens et nytt ukjent sprengstoff, og ba i et fortrolig øyeblikk en av offisere si meg hva det var. Det er vann, ferskt vann, drikkevann, "water", forklarte han meg; de hadde brakt det med seg fra England. Fattigslig betraktet jeg landskapet rundt meg som bruste under vårløsningen; kanskje hadde disse englenderne hørt om at det vitterlig fantes enkelte bekker og elver i landet vårt, men sammen med andre rykter som gikk i denne tiden var nok også dette blitt betraktet med sunn skepsis.

- Nordahl Grieg, Flagget

Det var som han kjempet med Quisling, og han vant

Finansministeren, statsråd Torp, hadde den første krigsnatten klart å få gullet kjørt ut fra Oslo og det ble brakt i sikkerhet på Lillehammer. Da tyskerne nærmet seg ga Torp, i samråd med regjeringen, Haslund den mest utstrakte fullmakt til å få gullet av veien. Hele greia var i midlertid blitt låst inn i hvelvet i Norges Banks Lillehammeravdeling, og jerndøren var lukket med en innviklet overfallslås, hvis hemmelighet bare kjentes i Oslo. Haslund skulle nettop til å sende bud etter dynamitt da en av bankfolkene trakk ham til side. Mannen ville gjerne si at han hadde stått i Quisling-partiet, Nasjonal Samling, det var han ikke glad over, og kunne han ikke få lov til å prøve seg på overfallslåsen? Han hadde en gang sett den bli åpnet og hadde en sterk hukommelse. Han kastet jakken, og mens svetten silte nedover ansikten hans, sloss han i 2 timer med låsen, det var som han kjempet med Quisling, og han vant. Døren sprang opp, og de 1503 kassene ble kjørt til toget.

- Nordahl Grieg, Flagget

Men ikke noe kulturdepartement

Dette er løftet fra USAs "Declaration of independence" som ble stadfestet i 1776, med ordene:

"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalianable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness."

Amerikanerne fortsetter å spre disse ideene, raskere enn noen gang. Gjennom internett som de skapte. Via den kritiske pressen som de perfeksjonerte. På verdens beste universiteter. I filmindustrien. Det utskjelte Hollywood, som i endeløse varianter forteller historier om mennesker som beseirer overmakten. Alle figurer fra Disney som forteller barn over hele verden at drømmer kan bli sanne. I kommunistdiktaturene kunne mennesker formelig kjenne smaken av frihet i en Cola.

Sendte de ikke mennesker til månen?

Det er noe med disse amerikanerne som har sittet i fattige bakevjer i USA og klimpret frem praktisk talt all ny musikk av betydning de siste hundre år: Gospel, jazz, rhythm and blues, country, rock and roll, soul og rap. Sistnevnte er spesielt populært i diktaturer, som for eksempel Iran. USA har nyskapende ballett og fantastiske symfoniorkestre, men ikke noe kulturdepartement. Tenke seg til, verdens sterkeste kultur har blitt til uten statlige kulturbyråkrater.

- Gerhard Helskog, Innvandrernes supermakt

Sammenlig med kommentarene til mitt tidligere innlegg om kulturkampen mot FrP, hvor Martin Grüner Larsen hevdet at et bredt kulturliv aldri kan stå på egne ben, og holdt fram Michael Jackson som eksempel på hvor ille det står til med kommersiell kultur..

Captivated by the vision of the freeway Radiant City

What if we fail to stop the erosion of cities by automobiles? What if we are prevented from catalyzing workable and vital cities because the practical steps needed to do so are in conflict with the practical steps demanded by erosion?

There is a silver lining to everything.

In that case we Americans will hardly need to ponder a mystery that has troubled men for millennia: What is the purpose of life? For us, the answer will be clear, established and for all practical purposes indisputable: The purpose of life is to produce and consume automobiles.

It is not hard to understand that the producing and consuming of automobiles might properly seem the purpose of life to the General Motors management, or that it might seem so to other men and women deeply committed economically or emotionally to this pursuit. If they so regard it, they should be commended rather than criticized for this remarkable identification of philosophy with daily duty. It is harder to understand, however, why the production and consumption of automobiles should be the purpose of life for this country.

Similarly, it is understandable that men who were young in the 1920's were captivated by the vision of the freeway Radiant City, with the specious promise that it would be appropriate to an automobile age. [..] But it is harder to understand why this form of arrested mental development should be passed on intact to succeeding generations of planners and designers.

- Jane Jacobs, The Death and Life of Great American Cities

One of those jokes that history sometimes plays on progress

The present relationship between cities and automobiles represents, in short, one of those jokes that history sometimes plays on progress. The interval of the automobile's development as every day transportation has corresponded precisely with the interval during which the ideal of the suburbanized anti-city was developed architecturally, sociologically, legislatively and financially.

But automobiles are hardly inherent destroyers of cities. If we would stop telling ourselves fairy tales about the suitability and charm of nineteenth-century streets for horse-and-buggy traffic, we would see that the internal combustion engine, as it came on the scene, was potentially an excellent instrument for abetting city intensity, and at the same time for liberating cities from one of their noxious liabilities.

Not only are automotive engines quieter and cleaner than horses but, even more important, fewer engines than horses can do a given amount of work. [..] At the turn of the century, railroads had already long demonstrated that iron horses are fine instruments for reconciling concentration and movement. Automobiles, including trucks, offered, for places railroads could not go, and for jobs railroads could not do, another means of cutting down the immemorial vehicular congestion of cities.

We went awry by replacing, in effect, each horse on the crowded city streets with half a dozen or so mechanized vehicles instead of using each mechanized vehicle to replace half a dozen or so horses.

- Jane Jacobs, The Death and Life of Great American Cities

We expect too much of new buildings, and too little of ourselves

A word here about rats. This is one of the elementary evils that new housing is supposed to eliminate and the presence of old housing to perpetuate. But rats do not know that. Unless they are exterminated, when old rat-infested buildings are torn down, the rats simply move into the next inhabited area. [..]

Most cities have legal requirements that rats be exterminated in any building demolished; in New York, the going rate in 1960 for a lying certificate of extermination, paid by corrupt owners to corrupt exterminators, is $5. How public agencies, like the Housing Authority, evade the law I do not know, but to know that they do evade it one need only go look at the fearful rat festivals and exoduses at twilight from their sites in process of demolition.

New buildings do not get rid of rats. Only people get rid of rats. This can be done in old buildings about as easily as in new ones. Our building was overrun with rats - big ones - when we got it. It costs $48 a year to keep it thoroughly rid of them and all other vermin. A live man does it. The notion that buildings get rid of rats is worse than a delusion because it becomes an excuse for not exterminating rats. ("We are soon going to get rid of these rat-infested buildings.")

We expect too much of new buildings, and too little of ourselves.

- Jane Jacobs, The Death and Life of Great American Cities

Far too seedy for enjoyable consumption

Damn Interesting writes about the Unfortunate sex life of the banana:

The banana plant is a hybrid, originating from the mismatched pairing of two South Asian wild plant species: Musa acuminata and Musa balbisiana. Between these two products of nature, the former produces unpalatable fruit flesh, and the latter is far too seedy for enjoyable consumption. Nonetheless, these closely related plants occasionally cross-pollinate and spawn seedlings which grow into sterile, half-breed banana plants. Some ten thousand years ago, early human experimenters noted that some of these hybridized Musa bore unexpectedly tasty, seedless fruit in addition to an unheard-of yellowness and inexplicably amusing shape. They also proved an excellent source of carbohydrates and other important nutrients.

Despite the hybrid’s unfortunate sexual impotence, shrewd would-be agriculturalists realised that the plants could be cultivated from suckering shoots and cuttings taken from the underground stem. The genetically identical progeny produced this way remained sterile, yet the new plant could be widely propagated with human help. An intensive and prolonged process of selective breeding — aided by the variety of hybrids and occasional random genetic mutations — eventually evolved the banana into its present familiar form.

It fascinates me how much that we think of as natural was created in the form we know them by humans. Genetically engineered - the slow way, but genetically engineered all the same.

Not just plants, but animals. When we say that dogs and cows were "domesticated", what we mean is that they were genetically engineered to live in symbiosis with humans.

Hele denne anonyme masses forsvinden

Med eliten mener jeg ikke nettop overklassen. Denne utgjør egentlig kun jordbunden og atmosfæren, hvor elitens blomst kan skyte op. Eliten selv, det er de, som viser os, hvor langt og hvor høit et menneske kan nå, og sådanne væsener kan meget vel være født i en lavere klasse. Men de kan ikke tilbringe hele livet dernede uten at vantrives og forkues. Deres tanker og følelser, deres planer og verker trænger til at finde gjenklang, de behøver en samfundskreds med sans for de ting, som ser ut som overflødige, men til syvende og sist er meget fornødne. [..]

Fra kulturstandpunktet er dette en vigtigere sak, end at folkets masse blir en smule bedre indlogert, klædt og ernært. For på den vis kan der allikevel kun opdrættes trekvart-mennesker, mens kulturens fremgang beror på dem, som er mere mennesker end de øvrige, på de store forbilleder, som hæver forestillingen om menneskelig evne og dermed høiner de andres krav til sig selv. Derfor gjælder det allerførst at fremme disse utvalgte, om det også skal ske på massens bekostning.

For endel år siden krævet jordskjælvet i Messina og Kalabrien henved hundredetusen liv; iforfjor omkom der ved et jordskjælv i Japan ikke langt fra det samme antal. Hvilket savn har vel disse katastrofer efterlatt, hvilket avbræk har de gjort i vor kultur? Ikke det allerringste. En stor mands bortgang er et ganske anderledes følelig tap end hele denne anonyme masses forsvinden.

- Sigurd Ibsen, Politikens motsætninger

Kulturelitisme er ikke hva det var..

Den utstilles ikke gjerne til almen beskuelse

For at få massene med til større aktioner må der tales til deres hjerte, deres stolthet eller deres fantasi, og det gjør ikke en politik, som alene pukker på den skjære magt. En Ludvig den fjortende, som ikke behøvde at spørre om folket, kunde herske bare med magtsprog, men allerede Napoleon måtte anslå følelsesstrenge, påkalde Frankrikes storhet, Frankrikes gloire, for at hundretusener skulde gå i døden for ham og hans planer. Endnu mere er da de middelmådigheter, som pleier at råde for staternes skjæbne, henvist til at peke på en høiere hjemmel. Denne har snart hett den lovlige orden, snart den borgerlige frihet, eller proletariatets vel, eller den nationale selvstændighet, eller folkets og statens historiske mission. Bak disse luftige talemåter ligger der som oftest meget håndfaste særinteresser. Men de er i hvert fald en tribut til den instinktmæssige følelse, at magten trænger til at godtgjøre sin ret.

Magthaveriet tør altså ikke optrå i utilhyllet skikkelse, men ifører sig et eller annet klædebon. Det er med den nøkne magt som med det nøkne legeme: den utstilles ikke gjerne til almen beskuelse.

- Sigurd Ibsen, Politikens motsætninger

Mulig det ofte begynner der, men steg 2 er at makthaverne finner det enklere å tro på idealene de forfekter enn å bare late som.

Historien er en bestikkelig dommer

De fleste folk har en uimotståelig dragning mot alle, som i påfaldende grad har lykken med sig: deres sind flyver dem i møte, som møllene styrter sig i lampelyset. Omvendt avkjøles deres følelser øieblikkelig overfor dem, hvem gjenvordigheten rammer, om den også er uforskyldt. Depossederte monarker, slagne feltherrer, avdankede ministre kan tale med om det av bitter erfaring. Deres forstrøstning står da til den historiens dom, som der alltid appelleres til, uten tanke på, at historien er en bestikkelig dommer. Den veier ikke så meget handlingerne selv som handlingernes følger, dens fremstilling lar sig blænde av resultater, dens herosdyrkelse er for en stor del en tjenstvillig utlægning av heldet. Hvorfor fordømmer den Cassius og Brutus, mens den priser Harmodios og Aristogiton? Den vilde ikke bryte staven over deres gjerning, hadde denne sikret republiken om så bare et par menneskealdre. Hvorfor sætter den Washington på en piedestal, som den negter Bolivar? Av de to var kanskje Bolivar den rikere begavede. Men saken er, at Nordamerikan har vokset til en verdensmagt, mens ingen av de sydamerikanske stater er nådd frem endog til stormagtsrang.

Når nu ikke engang det historiske tilbakeblik kan være uhildet, da er det knapt at vente, at en samtid, som har politikens håndgripeligheter like ind på livet, skal kunne unddra sig heldets, prestigens, magtforholdenes påvirkning.

- Sigurd Ibsen, Politikens motsætninger

Ikke længer så svake, som de engang var

Når der nåtildags vernes også om de svake, er en av grundene den, at de ikke længer er så svake, som de engang var, at de faktisk er på vei til at bli sterke. De mangehånd ordninger i humanitær og demokratisk ånd var ikke kommet istand uten forrykkelsen av magtforhold. Var ikke arbeiderne ved sine sammenslutninger blit en magt, de styrende må regne med, vilde den sociallovgivning, nutiden roser sig av, endnu høre til de fromme ønsker. Hadde ikke de mindre bemidlede klasser fåt stemmerettens våben ihænde, var der aldrig blit tale om den skattebyrdernes retfærdigere omlægning, som nu utgjør et stående emne i parlamentarisk finanspolitik.

Og den dag massernes evangelium når frem til seir, vil de nye magthavere likeså ensidig hævde de blotte og bare almueinteresser, som det gamle regime begunstiget fødselens og rigdommens forrettigheter.

- Sigurd Ibsen, Politikens motsætninger

At disse attentatsmænd gjerne dræper opad

Men ikke alle anarkister er konsekvente. Der er dem, som vil tvinge ved terrorisme, som ikke tror at kunne forberede den fremtidige menneskehets lykke på virksommere måte end ved at regalere endel nulevende medmennesker med dolkestik, revolverskud eller bomber. Minst av alle burde anarkister ty til vold; men om enkelte av dem gjør det, behøver man ikke derfor at fremstille dem som uhyrer. Det er sandt, at de ringeagter menneskeliv; men heri følger de kun berømmelige forbilleder. Forskjellen er bare den, at disse attentatsmænd gjerne dræper opad, mens de traditionelle magter helst har dræpt nedad, og at anarkistene kun har drevet det til at avlive en détail, mens suveræner, regjeringer og feltherrer ganske annerledes storstilet har besørget det en gros.

- Sigurd Ibsen, Politikens motsætninger

With simplicity, vividness and force

The Old Testament is not only law; it is history, poetry and philosophy of the highest order. After making every deduction for primitive legend and pious fraud, after admitting that the historical books are not quite as accurate or as ancient as our forefathers supposed, we find in them, nevertheless, not merely some of the oldest historical writing known to us, but some of the best. [..] The stories of Saul, David and Solomon are immeasurably finer in structure and style than the other historical writing of the ancient Near East. Even Genesis, if we read it with some understanding of the function of legend is, (barring its genealogies), an admirable story, told without frill or ornament, with simplicity, vividness and force. [..]

[The Psalms] are marred for us by bitter imprecations, tiresome "groanings" and complaints, and endless adulation of a Yahveh who, with all his "lovingkindness", "longsuffering" and "compassion", pours "smoke out of his nostrils, and fire out of his mouth", promises that "the wicked shall be turned into hell", laps up flattery, and threatens to "cut off all flattering lips". The Psalms are full of military ardor, hardly Christian, but very Pilgrim. Some of them, however, are jewels of tenderness, or cameos of humility . "[..] As for man, his days are as grass; as a flower of the field, so he flourisheth. For the wind passeth over it, and it is gone; and the place thereof shall know it no more".

- Will Durant, Our Oriental Heritage

Futile voices

Moral progress in history lies not so much in the improvement of the moral code as in the enlargement of the area within which it is applied. The morals of modern man are not unquestionably superior to those of primitive man, though the two groups of codes may differ considerably in content, practice and profession; but modern morals are, in normal times, extended - though with decreasing intensity - to a greater number of people than before. As tribes were gathered up into those larger units called states, morality overflowed its tribal bounds; and as communication - or a common danger - united and assimilated states, morals seeped through frontiers, and some men began to apply their commandments to all Europeans, to all whites, at last to all men. Perhaps there have always been idealists who wished to love all men as their neighbors, and perhaps in every generation they have been futile voices crying in a wilderness of nationalism and war. But probably the number - even the relative number - of such men has increased. There are no morals in diplomacy, and la politique n'a pas d'entrailles; but there are morals in international trade, merely because such trade cannot go on without some degree of restraint, regulation, and confidence. Trade began in piracy; it culminates in morality.

- Will Durant, Our Oriental Heritage

The force behind the law

When to this natural basis of custom a supernatural sanction is added by religion, and the ways of one's ancestors are also the will of the gods, then custom becomes stronger than law, and subtracts substantially from primitive freedom. To violate law is to win the admiration of half the populace, who secretly envy anyone who can outwit this ancient enemy; to violate custom is to incur almost universal hostility. For custom rises out of the people, whereas law is forced upon them from above; law is usually a decree of the master, but custom is the natural selection of those modes of action that have been found most convenient in the experience of the group.

Law partly replaces custom when the state replaces the natural order of the family, the clan, the tribe, and the village community; it more fully replaces custom when writing appears, and laws graduate from a code carried down in the memory of elders and priests into a system of legislation proclaimed in written tables. But the replacement is never complete; in the determination and judgment of human conduct custom remains to the end the force behind the law, the power behind the throne, the last "magistrate of men's lives."

- Will Durant, Our Oriental Heritage

Vi måtte stille oss i køen

Mm .. Televerk-ostalgi:

"Verre var det med sentralbord. Da de ansvarlige i telefonetaten i Oslo hørte at det var Folkebevegelsen som skulle ha ny telefon, ble saken meget vanskelig. Det var lang ventetid for sentralbord, vi måtte stille oss i køen. Vi forklarte at vi måtte ha telefonen nå, før folkeavstemningen, men det hjalp ikke - jeg hadde nær sagt: tvert imot. Men Kopreitan visste råd. Han mobiliserte våre kontakter i systemet nedenfra, og der var innstillingen en annen. På null komma null fant de frem et utrangert sentralbord, av eldre modell riktignok, men fullt bruktbart. Og etter en prat med den ansvarlige formann var det ikke vanskelig å få stokket litt om på ordresedlene slik at vår kom høyt opp. Dette skulle bli det første lille lærestykke for meg: Det var morsomt å se at det nesten gikk sport i å finne løsninger når man nærmer seg saken gjennom en annen innfallsport. Jaså, var ledelsen imot? Det skulle nok bli en råd allikevel!"

- Tor Bjerkmann, Ingen skal tenke for meg

Men det var ekte og oppriktig ment

Jeg har ofte tenkte at det hjalp meg meget, det at jeg måtte velge om jeg ville utføre militærtjeneste. Jeg måtte ta et standpunkt.

Og det var ikke helt enkelt. Man kunne ikke bare si: Jeg vil ikke.

Man måtte begrunne sitt syn, sette ord på det. Jeg har i ettertid lest min søknad om overføring til siviltjeneste mange ganger, og blir litt forlegen hver gang - det er nokså naivt, det jeg skrev. Men det var ekte og oppriktig ment. "Dette standpunkt er en umiddelbar følge av at all moral - ikke bare den kristne - nødvendigvis må bygge på respekt for liv, og det bunner i dyp personlig overbevisning," skrev jeg til Krigskommissariat Nord-Norge i Harstad. De smilte kanskje litt overbærende, men overført til siviltjeneste ble jeg.

- Tor Bjerkmann, Ingen skal tenke for meg

Jeg har det samme forholdet til min egen siviltjenestesøknad, som jeg sendte inn nesten 40 år senere, i 1997. Den gjør meg forlegen, men jeg er glad jeg var nødt til å ta et standpunkt.

Her er min konklusjon: "Som menneske mener jeg at jeg har fullt ansvar for mine egne handlinger, og jeg kan derfor ikke tillate at mine evner blir gjort tilgjengelig for mennesker som har et helt annet moralsk syn enn jeg, og som kunne finne på å beordre meg til å gjøre noe jeg tar helt avstand fra: drepe et vilt fremmed menneske."

Det er lenge siden jeg var pasifist, men akkurat dette var ikke så dumt.

En plirende smilende jøde bak disken

Konrad har samlet rasistiske og antisemittiske uttalelser fra Norge i mellomkrigstiden.

«. . . overstrømmes vi av alle lands jøder, kanskje mest russiske. De kommer inn som sildestim. De setter sig fast over hele byen. Det er snart ikke en fruktbutikk (. . .) uten at det står en plirende smilende jøde bak disken. (. . .) Men bare vent, om noen tid finder vi dem som smarte eiere av villaer paa Vestkanten... snart har de foten innenfor en avis, en bank, universitetet, Nasjonalgalleriet!»

«Vi har ingen forpliktelse til å utlevere våre husdyr til jødenes grusomheter, vi har ikke invitert jødene hit til landet, og vi har ingen forpliktelse til å skaffe jødene dyr til deres religiøse orgier. » og «En god del av disse utlendingene som kommer hit til landet, er rasemessig sett av mindreverdig kvalitet.»

«Arvelæren har allerede i høi grad rasjonalisert avlen av husdyr og kulturplanter. Den bør også bli grunnlaget for rasjonell menneskeavl. Ellers vil vi mennesker fra en fin rasehunds synspunkt være kjøtere.»

Lite er nytt i retorikken mot utlendinger som skal oversvømme landet. På 1800-tallet fantes det skandinavere som var redde for "den gule fare", tross at det ikke bodde noen kinesere her. Ordene endrer seg, ("rase" er ut, "kultur" inn), men budskapet er ofte det samme.

And Mars and Mother India floating overhead in suitable draperies

I suspected that Hardinge's aversion to me was rooted in a feeling that I spoiled the picture he had in mind of the whole Sikh War. My face didn't fit; it was a blot on the landscape, all the more disfiguring because he knew it belonged there. I believe he dreamed of some noble canvas for exhibition in the great historic gallery of public approval - a true enough picture, mind you, of British heroism and faith unto death in the face of impossible odds; aye, and of gallantry by that stubborn enemy who died on the Sutlej. Well, you know what I think of heroism and gallantry, but I recognise 'em as only a born coward can. But they would be there, rightly, on the noble canvas, with Hardinge stern and forbearing, planting a magisterial boot on a dead Sikh and raising a penitent, awe-struck Dalip by the hand, while Gough (off to one side) addressed heaven with upraised sword before a background of cannon-smoke and resolute Britons gnashing niggers and Mars and Mother India floating overhead in suitable draperies. Dam' fine.

Well, you can't mar a spectacle like that with a Punch cartoon border of Flashy rogering dusky damsels and spying and conniving dirty deals with Lal and Tej, can you now?

- George MacDonald Fraser, Flashman and the Mountain of Light

The ships reappear with Toyotas on them

There are two technologies for producing automobiles in America. One is to manufacture them in Detroit, and the other is to grow them in Iowa. Everybody knows about the first technology; let me tell you about the second. First you plant seeds, which are the raw materials from which automobiles are constructed. You wait a few months until wheat appears. Then you harvest the wheat, load it onto ships, and sail the ships westward into the Pacific Ocean. After a few months, the ships reappear with Toyotas on them.

- Steven Landsburg, quoted by Bryan Kaplan in The 4 Boneheaded Biases of Stupid Voters (And we're all stupid voters).

Something cold and inhuman in their clarity

I found this in an old essay of mine:

It is precisely in reaction to such behavior that the "multicultural" worldview makes sense. We do need to doubt ourselves. We do need to worry at least as much about our own potential for evil as that of the foreigners. We do need to meet other cultures with some humility and respect. We do need to have mixed feelings about our own culture, admiration tempered by wariness, as with a wild animal. We do need to listen to people who believe differently, instead of just lecturing them. Not because there is no right or wrong, true or false, and not because every culture is equal, but because the alternative is so dangerous. The road of the righteous champion of the Army of Light.

So it appears that I believe all of these things, both the essential ideas of the culture warriors and those of their multicultural enemies. This might be a contradiction - I'm not sure. It would seem that I'm both anti-elitist and elitist, that I understand both those who want to confront and those who want to talk. And maybe that's not such a bad place to be.

I know how the culture warriors feel about such doubt, they see it as weakness, a fear of moral clarity. But I see something cold and inhuman in their clarity. Give me conflicting ideas, isolated incidents, and individuals. Keep your angry visions, I'll do just fine with doubt and curiosity.

En prosess av kontinuerlig prøving, feiling og tilpasning

Den viktigste, underliggende antagelsen bak teorien om spontan orden (som en moderne, institusjonsbasert markedsøkonomi er et eksempel på) er Hayeks teori om kunnskapens natur. Ikke bare er mengden kunnskap i et moderne samfunn for stor til at noen sentral instans kan få oversikt (informasjonsproblemet), men mye av kunnskapen er lokal, den eksisterer bare hos konkrete mennesker på konkrete steder; eller den er «taus», ikke-artikulert og tar form av skikker, normer og tradisjoner – som kjemikeren og filosofen Michael Polanyi sa: «Vi vet mer enn vi kan sette ord på». For Hayek har dette en klar politisk konsekvens: Vi bør være skeptiske til sosial ingeniørkunst, til politikere som tror det er mulig eller ønskelig å styre hele samfunnet mot et bestemt mål.

Politisk sverger Hayek til en klassisk liberal orden. I et fritt samfunn administrerer ikke staten menneskers affærer. Den «administrerer rettferdigheten mellom mennesker som selv styrer sine affærer», skriver han. Markedet spiller en sentral rolle, ikke som arena for atomiserte økonomiske agenter, men som en prosess av kontinuerlig prøving, feiling og tilpasning. Han er direkte fiendtlig til teorier om sosial rettferdighet, som han anser som luftslott, men ingen motstander av statlige ordninger. Snarere kan Hayeks innfallsvinkel oppsummeres som pragmatisk: Staten har noen sentrale oppgaver i ethvert samfunn, men kan også påta seg langt flere så sant disse ikke forstyrrer selve den spontane orden for eksempel ved å regulere den frie prisdannelsen.

- Torbjørn Røe Isaksen, i en god oppsummering av Hayek's politiske filosofi i Morgenbladet

Neither a grantor of favor or gifts, nor a master or god

To the free man, the country is the collection of the individuals who compose it, not something over and above them. He is proud of a common heritage and loyal to common traditions. But he regards government as a means, an instrumentality, neither a grantor of favor or gifts, nor a master or god to be blindly worshipped and served. He recognizes no national goal except as it is the consensus of the goals that the citizens severally serve. He recognizes no national purpose except as it is the consensus of the purposes for which the citizens severally strive.

The free many will ask neither what his country can do for him nor what he can do for his country. He will ask rather "What can I and my compatriots do through government to help us discharge our individual responsibilities, to achieve our several goals and purposes, and above all, to protect our freedom?" And he will accompany this question with another: How can we keep the government we create from becoming a Frankenstein that will destroy the very freedom we establish it to protect?

- Milton Friedman, Capitalism and Freedom

At least I knew it was a game

My captor now lifted the wire noose until I stood. I was conscious, as I have been on several similar occasions, that we were in some sense playing a game. We were pretending that I was totally in his power, when in fact I might have refused to rise until he had either strangled me or called over some of his comrades to carry me. I could have done several other things as well - seized the wire and tried to wrest it from him, struck him in the face. I might have escaped, been killed, been rendered unconscious, or plunged into agony; but I could not actually be forced to do as I did.

At least I knew it was a game, and I smiled as he sheathed Terminus Est and led me to where Jonas stood.

Jonas said, "We've done no harm. Return my friend's sword and give us back our animals, and we will go."

There was no reply. In silence the two praetorians (four fluthering sparrows, it seemed) caught our destriers and led them away. How like us those animals were, walking patiently they knew not where, their massive heads following thin strips of leather. Nine-tenths of life, so it seems to me, consists of these surrenders.

- Gene Wolfe, The Claw of the Conciliator

Endeavored to wear it ever since

As if some invisible hand had spread a curtain over us, the shadows of the trees fell upon the howdah. The glitter of billions of shards of glass was left behind with the staring of the dead eyes, and we entered into the coolness and green shade of the high forest. Among those mighty trunks even the baluchither, though he stood three times the height of a man, seemed no more than a little, scurrying beast [..]

And it came to me that these trees had been hardly smaller when I was yet unborn, and had stood as they stood now when I was a child playing among the cypresses and peaceful tombs of our necropolis, and that they would stand yet, drinking in the last light of the dying sun, even as now, when I had been dead as long as those who rested there. I saw how little it weighed on the scale of things whether I lived or died, though my life was precious to me. And of those two thoughts I forged a mood by which I stood ready to grasp each smallest chance to live, yet in which I cared not too much whether I saved myself or not. By that mood, as I think, I did live; it has been so good a friend to me that I have endeavored to wear it ever since, succeeding not always, but often.

- Gene Wolfe, The Claw of the Conciliator

Not at all times have been so bold

In the brown book in my sabretache there was the tale of an angel who, coming to Urth on some petty mission or other, was struck by a child's arrow and died. With her gleaming robes all dyed by her heart's blood even as the boulevards were stained by the expiring life of the sun, she encountered Gabriel himself. His sword blazed in one hand, his great two-headed ax swung in the other, and across his back, suspended on the rainbow, hung the very battle horn of Heaven. "Where wend you, little one," asked Gabriel, "with your breast more scarlet than the robin's?" "I am killed," the angel said, "and I return to merge my substance once more with the Pancreator. "Do not be absurd. You are an angel, a pure spirit, and cannot die." "But I am dead," said the angel, "nevertheless." You have observed the wasting of my blood - do you not observe also that it no longer issues in straining spurtings, but only seeps sluggishly? Note the pallor of my countenance. Is not the touch of an angel warm and bright? Take my hand and you will imagine you hold a horror new dragged from some stagnant pool. Taste my breath - is it not fetid, foul, and nidorous?" Gabriel answered nothing, and at last the angel said, "Brother and better, even if I have not convinced you with all my proofs, I pray you stand aside. I would rid the universe of my presence." "I am convinced indeed," Gabriel said, stepping from the other's way. "It is only that I was thinking that had I known we might perish, I would not at all times have been so bold."

- Gene Wolfe, The Shadow of the Torturer

A diagnostic distinction between those who died howling like dogs and those who died screaming

Others died accidentally. Ralph Hopton was severely wounded when a casually placed tobacco pipe ignited barrels of gunpowder and two other soldiers in his army died from the accidental discharge of muskets. Edward Morton was blown up, along with his four children and his house, while mixing gunpowder for the royal army. His wife's escape was said to be providential, since she had tried to dissuade him from doing this work for the royalists. Another judgement was visited on Captain Starker, inspecting the loot taken from the capture of Houghton Tower in Lancashire. One of the company lit a pipe, which ignited the powder, killing himself, his captain and sixty of his comrades. The consequent burn and shatter wounds were horrifying.

[..]

Many of the fallen died of their wounds, often in pain and some time after the battle. John Hampden took six days to die of wounds received at the battle of Chalgrove Field, six agonizing days. Care of the wounded was taken seriously but was limited by both resources and expertise. Wiseman, seeking to learn from his battlefield experiences, seems to have made a diagnostic distinction between those who died howling like dogs and those who died screaming. [..] Shattered bones and the threat of infection were the principal dangers. As Wiseman noted, an undressed wound was within days full of maggots. Amputation was often done immediately, while the wounded men were still in shock, since their courage might fail them later.

- Michael Braddick, God's Fury, England's Fire

It was on this occasion that Prynne lost the first parts of his ears

Under Charles I, Alexander Leighton and William Prynne suffered alongside their books. In fact Prynne suffered the revival of burnings by the public hangman, in 1634. His Histrio-Mastix had denounced stage plays, and included attacks on female actors, at just about the time that Henrietta Maria appeared in a court masque. The timing was ambiguous - the criticism might have predated knowledge of the Queen's participation - but the implication was a dangerous one. However, Histrio-Matix was dangerous as much for its tone - highly intemperate and disrespectful - as its content and this earned it special treatment. Lord Cottington, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, ordered it to be 'burnt in the most public manner that can be. The manner in other countries is ... to be burnt by the hangman, though not used in England. Yet I wish it may, in respect of the strangeness and heinousness of the matter contained in it, to have a strange manner of burning, therefore I shall desire it may be so burnt by the hand of the hangman'. It was on this occasion that Prynne lost the first parts of his ears: set in a pillory at Westminster and Cheapside, one of his ears cropped in each place and copies of his book burned before him. It was said that he nearly suffocated from the smoke.

- Michael Braddick, God's Fury, England's Fire

No more questions for the prisoner

The Privy Council was anxious to discover who had incited him to commit the murder [of the Duke of Buckingham], suspecting the 'Puritans', but Felton insisted that he had acted alone and had not told anyone of his intentions. In the face of this insistence William Laud, then Bishop of London and emerging as an influential anti-Puritan, threatened him with the rack. But Felton was clearly made of stern stuff, and even though he was a 'person of little stature' he had 'a stout and revengeful spirit'. In these tense moments he demonstrated considerable sang froid, replying that if he were put to the rack:

he could not tell whom he might nominate in the extremity of torture, and if what he should say then must go for truth, he could not tell whether his Lordship (meaning the Bishop of London) or which of their Lordships he might name, for torture might draw unexpected things from him.

After this there were no more questions for the prisoner.

- Michael Braddick, God's Fury, England's Fire

A single, stray act of violence

While there have been hundreds of inter-religious riots in the history of independent India, there have been only two pogroms: that directed at the Sikhs in Delhi in 1984 and that directed at the Muslims of south Gujarat in 2002. There are some striking similarities between the two. Both began as a response to a single, stray act of violence committed by members of the minority community. Both proceeded to take a generalized revenge on the minorities as a whole. The Sikhs who were butchered wered in no way connected to the Sikhs who killed Mrs Gandhi. The Muslims who were killed by Hindu mobs were completely innocent of the Godhra crime (which may anyway have been an accident).

In both cases the pogroms were made possible by the willed breakdown of the rule of law. The prime minister in Delhi in 1984, and the chief minister in Gujarat in 2002, issued graceless statements that in effect justified the killings. And serving ministers in their government went as far as to aid and direct the rioters.

The final similarity is the most telling, as well as perhaps the most depressing. Both parties, and leaders, reaped electoral rewards from the violence they had legitimized and overseen. Rajiv Gandhi's party won the 1984 general election by a very large margin, and in December 2002 Narendra Modi was re-elected as chief minister of Gujarat after his party won a two-thirds majority in the assembly polls.

- Ramachandra Guha, India After Gandhi

All culture, civilisation and life is contributed by them alone

In [D. R. Goyal's] rendition, the core beliefs of what the Sangh Parivar calls 'Hindutva' are as follows:

"Hindus have lived in India since times immemorial; Hindus are the nation because all culture, civilisation and life is contributed by them alone; non-Hindus are invaders or guests and cannot be treated as equal unless they adopt Hindu traditions, culture etc; the non-Hindus, particularly Muslims and Christians, have been enemies of everything Hindu and are, therefore, to be treated as threats; the freedom and progress of this country is the freedom and progress of Hindus; the history of India is the history of the struggle of the Hindus for protection and preservation of their religion and culture against the onslaught of these aliens; the threat continues because the power is in the hands of those who do not believe in this nation as a Hindu Nation; those who talk of national unity as the unity of all those who live in this country are motivated by the selfish desire of cornering minority votes and are therefore traitors; the unity and consolidation of the Hindus is the dire need of the hour because the Hindu people are surrounded on all sides by enemies; the Hindus must develop the capacity for massive retaliation and offence is the best defence; lack of unity is the root cause of all troubles of the Hindus and the Sangh is born with the divine mission to bring about that unity."

- Ramachandra Guha, India After Gandhi

Too embarassed to talk about it

It is difficult precisely to date Sanjay Gandhi's own interest in family planning. His Surge interview in August 1975 does not mention the subject at all. Yet a year later, the Illustrated Weekly of India was speaking of how 'Sanjay has given a big impetus to the Family Planning Programme throughout the country'. [..] He epxressed himself in favor of compulsory sterilization, for which facilities should be provided 'right down to the village level'.

[..]

In his tours around India, Sanjay Gandhi catalysed a competitive process between the states of the Union. Sanjay would tell one chief minister of what another had claimed to have done - '60 000 operations in two weeks' - and encouraged him to exceed it. These targets were passed down to district officials, who were rewarded if they met or exceeded them and transferred otherwise. The process led to widespread coercion. Lower government officials had to submit to the surgeon's knife before arrears of pay were cleared. Truck drivers would not have their licences renewed if they could not produce a sterilization certificate. Slum dwellers would not be allotted a plot for resettlement unless they did likewise.

[..]

Local officials prepared lists of 'eligible men', that is, of those who already had three or more children. Police vans would come and take them off to the nearest health centre. Some men fled into the hills to escape the marauders. Those who had undergone a vasectomy were too embarassed to talk about it.

- Ramachandra Guha, India After Gandhi

The safest people in India

To make the protection of British lives the top priority was pretty much state policy. In February 1947 the governor of Bengal said that his 'first action in the event of an announcement of a date for withdrawal of British power ... would be to have the troops "standing to" and prepare for a concentration of outlying Europeans at very short notice as soon as hostile reactions began to show themselves'. In fact, in the summer of 1947 white men and women were the safest people in India. No one was interested in killing them. But their insecurities meant that many army units were placed near European settlements instead of being freed for riot control elsewhere.

[..]

The decision of the CPM to join the government was preceded by a bitter debate, with Jyoti Basu speaking in favour and Promode Dasgupta against. Ultimately the party joined, only to create a great sense of expectation among the cadres. An early gesture was to rename Harrington Road after a hero of the world communist movement, so that at the height of the Vietnam War the address of the United States Consulate was 7 Ho Chi Minh Sarani, Calcutta.

- Ramachandran Guha, India After Gandhi

A very innocent time

I wonder what impression a viewing marathon of 1946 films would leave on the mind of someone who never knew that year. How true a picture would it give of the time? When I look back, as I frequently do, at movies of the thirties and forties, and compare them with the reality I knew then, as schoolboy, soldier and young newspaperman, I can say that they reflect very fairly our backgrounds, our values and some of our ideals.

I insert the word "some" as one who has never been politically committed, except for brief periods after every political meeting I ever reported: if it was a Labour meeting I came out somewhere to the right of P.C. Wren; if Conservative, my feelings would have made Lenin look like a hesitant moderate. But I concede that those with strong political views might not think that old movies gave a true picture, inasmuch as they had no time for extremism, either way.

What does come off them, very strongly, is a remarkable innocence. No doubt the Hays Office and the British Board of Film Censors had something to do with it, but not all that much. It was, as I look back and remember, a very innocent time - even with the Depression and Hitler and the atom bomb, it was still innocent. Perhaps that was why they happened.

- George MacDonald Fraser, The Hollywood History of the World

The audience will laugh them off the screen

At first glance, Hollywood and pirates would seem to be made for each other, but in fact they are not. Apart from the technical difficulty that sailing ships are nightmare machines which refuse to stay still, and even large models have their problems, there is the plain fact that pirates - the real pirates of history - the Blackbeards and Morgans and Kidds and Calico Jacks - are too bizarre, too larger-than-life, too unreal even for the cinema. That they were real is irrelevant; their truth is too strange for fiction, and pantomime and Peter Pan have turned the grim reality into a comic figure which usually defies attempts to fashion it for conventional drama, or even melodrama.

Madmen who run about with blazing fireworks in their whiskers, eccentrics who hold religious services and prohibit swearing on their unholy cruises, red-headed hussies who put to sea disguised as men and fight duels to the death - they may do for send-up, but try to present them as they truly were, and the audience will laugh them off the screen.

- George MacDonald Fraser, The Hollywood History of the World

En hilsen til besteforeldre

No rights were ever given to us
By the grace of God
No rights were ever given
By some United Nations clause
No rights were ever given
By some nice guy at the top
Our rights - they were bought by all the blood
And all the tears of all our
Grandmothers, grandfathers before.

For all the folk who gave their lives for us
For all the folk who spit out - never say die
For all the fires burning on our highest hills
For all the people spinning tales tonight
Fight all the powers who abuse our common laws
Fight all the powers who think they only owe themselves.

- New Model Army, My Country

Saxons, grocers and other Fundamentalist Materialists

Patapsychology begins from Murphy's Law, as Finnegan called the First Axiom, adopted from Sean Murphy. This says, and I quote,"The normal does not exist. The average does not exist. We know only a very large but probably finite phalanx of discrete space-time events encountered and endured." In less technical language, the Board of the College of Patapsychology offers one million Irish punds [around $700,000 American] to any "normalist" who can exhibit "a normal sunset, an average Beethoven sonata, an ordinary Playmate of the Month, or any thing or event in space-time that qualifies as normal, average or ordinary."

In a world where no two fingerprints appear identical, and no two brains appear identical, and an electron does not even seem identical to itself from one nanosecond to another, patapsychology seems on safe ground here. [..]

The canny will detect here the usual Celtic impulse to make hash out of everything that seems obvious and incontrovertable to Saxons, grocers and other Fundamentalist Materialists. Patapsychology follows in the great tradition of Swift, who once proved with a horoscope that an astrologer named Partridge had died, even though Partridge continued to deny this in print; Bishop Berkeley, who proved that the universe doesn't exist but God has a persistent delusion that it does; William Rowan Hamilton, who invented the noncommutative algebra in which p times q does not equal q times p; Wilde, who asked if the academic commentators on Hamlet had really gone mad or only pretended to have gone mad.

- Robert Anton Wilson

Finely versed in the technique of propaganda

The great political problem in our modern democracy is how to induce our leaders to lead. The dogma that the voice of the people is the voice of God tends to make elected persons the will-less servants of their constituents. [..]

No serious sociologist any longer believes that the voice of the people expresses any divine or specially wise and lofty idea. The voice of the people express the mind of the people, and that mind is made up for it by the group leaders in whom it believes and by those persons who understand the manipulation of public opinion. It is composed of inherited prejudices and symbols and clichés and verbal formulas supplied to them by the leaders. [..]

The political leader of today should be a leader as finely versed in the technique of propaganda as in political economy and civics. If he remains merely the reflection of the average intelligence of his community, he might as well go out of politics. [..]

"When the interval between the intellectual classes and the practical classes is too great," says the historian Buckle, "the former will possess no influence, the latter will reap no benefits."

Propaganda bridges this interval in our modern complex civilization.

- Edward Bernays, Propaganda

The value of news begins, once again, to have a dollar sign beside it

The essential problem with the newspaper business today is that it is suffering from a huge imbalance between supply and demand. What the Internet has done is broken the geographical constraints on news distribution and flooded the market with stories, with product. Supply so far exceeds demand that the price of the news has dropped to zero. Substitutes are everywhere. [..]

In this environment, you're about as like to be able to charge for an online news story as you are to charge for air. [..]

Now here's what a lot of people seem to forget: Excess production capacity goes away, particularly when that capacity consists not of capital but of people. Supply and demand, eventually and often painfully, come back into some sort of balance. Newspapers have, with good reason, been pulling their hair out over the demand side of the business, where a lot of their product has, for the time being, lost its monetary value. But the solution to their dilemma actually lies on the production side: particularly, the radical consolidation and radical reduction of capacity. The number of U.S. newspapers is going to collapse [..]

As all that happens, market power begins - gasp, chuckle, and guffaw all you want - to move back to the producer. The user no longer gets to call all the shots. Substitutes dry up, fungibility dissipates, and quality becomes both visible and valuable. The value of news begins, once again, to have a dollar sign beside it.

- Nick Carr, Misreading newspapers

What pictures we should admire, what jokes we should laugh at

Who are the men, who, without our realizing it, give us our ideas, tell us whom to admire and whom to despise, what to believe about the ownership of public utilities, about the tariff, about the price of rubber, about the Dawes Plan, about immigration; who tell us how our houses should be designed, what furniture we should put into them, what menus we should serve at our table, what kind of shirts we must wear, what sports we should indulge in, what plays we should see, what charities we should support, what pictures we should admire, what slang we should affect, what jokes we should laugh at?

[..]

The invisible government tends to be concentrated in the hands of the few because of the expense of manipulating the social machinery which controls the opinions and habits of the masses. To advertise on a scale which will reach fifty million persons is expensive. To reach and persuade the group leaders who dictate the public's thoughts and actions is likewise expensive.

For this reason there is an increasing tendency to concentrate the functions of propaganda in the hands of the propaganda specialist. This specialist is more and more assuming a distinct place and function in our natural life.

- Edward Bernays, Propaganda

Poor people dread high-profile international events

In the urban Third World, poor people dread high-profile international events - conferences, dignitary visits, sporting events, beauty contests, and international festivals - that prompt authorities to launch crusades to clean up the city: slum-dwellers know that they are the "dirt" or "blight" that their governments prefer the world not to see. During the Nigerian Independence celebration in 1960, for example, one of the first acts of the new government was to fence the route from the airport so that Queen Elizabeth's representative, Princess Alexandria, would not see Lagos's slums. These days governments are more likely to improve the view by razing the slums and driving the residents out of the city.

Manilenos have a particular horror of such "beautification campaigns". During Imelda Marcos's domination of city government, shanty-dwellers were successively cleared from the parade routes of the 1974 Miss Universe Pageant, the visit of President Gerald Ford in 1975, and the IMF-World Bank meeting in 1976. Alltogether 160 000 squatters were moved out of the media's field of vision, many of them dumped on Manila's outskirts, 30 kilometers or more from their former homes.

- Mike Davis, Planet of Slums

I hope those studies did not cost too much

Gladwell is fond of quirky factors. The unexpectedness of his explanations often disguises their banality or their error. In his new book, he is particularly interested in examining the amount of time that must be spent honing a skill or a craft, although his larger point is that society frequently plays a role in providing people with the opportunity to do so. "The idea that excellence at performing a complex task requires a critical minimum level of practice surfaces again and again in studies of expertise," Gladwell reports. (I hope those studies did not cost too much.)

[..]

Gladwell's overarching thesis in Outliers is so obviously correct that it hardly merits discussion. "The people we surround ourselves with have a profound effect on who we are." Also, tomorrow is the beginning of the rest of your life. Gladwell writes as if he is the only person in the world in possession of this platitudinous wisdom. The central irony of Outliers is that, Gladwell's discomfort with the self-help genre notwithstanding, he has written a book that conforms to it perfectly. This is a motivational manual. It is larded with inspirational stories, and with interactive games to capture the reader's attention--with handy charts and portentous graphs.

- Isaac Chotiner, reviewing Malcolm Gladwell's Outliers

Running over it again and again with a lawnmower

One hears - often - that [Atlas Shrugged] changed a reader's life; yet you can also hear of people, upon discovering a copy in a loved one's room, throwing it out of a window "for their own good" - and someone in the yard, seeing what the offending book was, running over it again and again with a lawnmower, shredding it, ensuring that this copy at least could wreak no more harm, pollute no more minds.

[..]

[When Henry Hazlitt] intimated that "I do not pretend to agree with you in every point and in every statement; I do not imagine that you expect that kind of agreement", the libertarian newsman was merely advertising his lack of imagination. Isabel Paterson responded that "it isn't a question of agreement" with [God of the Machine]. "I tried to set forth axioms, principles, facts and deductions of a logical nature. They are either true or not true, but they don't depend on agreement; they are so per se. Do you 'agree' with Euclid's statement that a 'straight line is the shortest distance between two points?'"

[..]

Tom Marshall ultimately embraced an even more radical and individualistic version of the Preform idea, which he dubbed Vonu - an invented word meaning a life outside the reach of any who could oppress you. In practice, it meant hiding in the woods of Oregon, where he managed to disappear from the sight or knowledge of anyone who ever knew him - his ultimate fate is unknown.

- Brian Doherty, Radicals for Capitalism

Conformity under the symbol

"When political parties or newspapers declare for Americanism, Progressivism, Law and Order, Justice, Humanity, they hope to amalgamate the emotion of conflicting factions which they would surely divide if, instead of these symbols, they were invited to discuss a specific program. For when a coalition around the symbol has been effected, feeling flows toward conformity under the symbol rather than toward critical scrutiny of the measures. .. [These symbols] do not stand for specific ideas, but for a sort of truce or junction between ideas. They are like a strategic railroad center where many roads converge regardless of their ultimate origin or their ultimate destination. But he who captures the symbols by which public feeling is for the moment contained, controls by that much the approaches of public policy. And as long as a particular symbol has the power of coalition, ambitious factions will fight for possession.

[..]

As you ascend the hierarchy in order to include more and more factions you may for a time preserve the emotional connection though you lose the intellectual. But even the emotion becomes thinner. As you go further away from experience, you go higher into generalization or subtlety. As you go up in the balloon you throw more and more concrete objects overboard, and when you have reached the top with some phrase like Rights of Humanity or the World Made Safe for Democracy, you see far and wide, but you see very little."

- Walter Lippmann, Public Opinion (1922)

Tainted matter unfit to eat

Those who have learned precepts as mere theory want to vomit them up immediately, just as people with weak stomachs do with their food. Digest your precepts first, and you will not vomit them up in this way; otherwise they really do turn to vomit, tainted matter unfit to eat. Then show us some change that results from those precepts in your own ruling faculty, just as athletes can show their shoulders as the results of their training and diet, or those who have learned various arts can show the result of their learning.

A builder does not come up and say, "Listen to me lecturing on the builder's art", but acquires a contract to build a house and shows by building it that he knows the art. And you should do likewise; eat as a man, drink as a man, adorn yourself, marry, sire children, play your part as a citizen; put up with abuse, bear with an inconsiderate brother, bear with a father, bear with a son, neighbour, fellow-traveller.

Show us these things so we can see that you have in truth learnt something from the philosophers. No; but "Come and listen to me reading out my commentaries." Away with you! Look for someone else to vomit over.

- Epictetus, The Discourses

A spectator of himself and of his works

But god has introduced man into the world as a spectator of himself and of his works; and not only as a spectator, but an interpreter of them. It is therefore shameful that man should begin and end where the irrational creatures do. He ought rather to begin there, but to end where nature itself has fixed our end; and that is in contemplation and understanding and a way of life in harmony with nature. Take care, then, not to die without ever being spectators of these things.

- Epictetus, The Discourses

But you are wretched and discontented, and if you are alone, you call it desolation, but if you are with men, you call them cheats and robbers and you find fault with even your parents and children and brothers and neighbours. Whereas you ought, when you live alone, to call that peace and freedom, and compare yourself to the gods; and when you are in company, not to call it a crowd and a tumult and a vexation, but a feast and a festival, and thus accept all things with contentment. What, then, is the punishment of those who do not? To be just as they are. Is a person discontented at being alone? Let him be in desolation. Discontented with his parents? Let him be a bad son, and let him grieve. Discontented with his children? Let him be a bad father. 'Throw him into prison.' What kind of prison? Where he already is.

- Epictetus, The Discourses

Both the executioner and the victim

One walks along the streets of Magadan through high-walled corridors dug out in the snow. They are narrow, and when another person is passing one must stop to let him by. Sometimes at such a moment I find myself standing face-to-face with some elderly man. Always, one question comes to my mind: And who were you? The executioner or the victim?

And why am I moved to wander? Why am I unable to look at this man in an ordinary way, without that perverse and intrusive curiosity? For if I could summon up my courage and ask him this question, and if he responded sincerely, I might hear the answer: "You see, you have before you both the executioner and the victim."

This too was a characteristic of Stalinism - that in many instances it was impossible to distinguish these two roles. First someone, as an interrogating officer, would beat a prisoner, then he himself would be thrown into prison and beaten; after serving his sentence he would get out and take revenge, and so on. It was the world as a closed circle, from which there was only one exit - death. It was a nightmarish game in which everyone lost.

- Ryszard Kapuscinski, Imperium

Easy to predict the chances

Thus, for example, one hundred thousand Abkhazians want to separate from Georgia and form their own state. It is small wonder. Abkhazia is one of the most beautiful corners of the world, a second Riviera, a second Monaco. Well, the Abkhazians hit upon the same idea that twenty years earlier occured to the inhabitants of that superb and eternally sunny island in the Caribbean called Antigua. The island was a British colony. In the 1970s, the inhabitants of Antigua formed a national liberation party, declared independence, and leased the island to the Hilton Hotel chain. London had to dispatch an armed expedition (four hundred policemen) in order to dissolve the party and annul the contract. So too here, in the Caucasus: the liberated Abkhazians could very well sign an agreement with some Western hotel company and finally begin to live the good life!

But will Georgia give up Abkhazia, it being such a tasty morsel? There are four million Georgians and only one hundred thousand Abkhazians. It is easy to predict the chances.

- Ryszard Kapuściński, Imperium

Somebody had earlier stolen his Stalin

One of the NKVD people went from bench to bench distributing the stamps. "Children," said our teacher with a voice that resembled the sound of hollowed wood, "these are your leaders." There were nine of these leaders. They were called Andreyev, Voroshilov, Zhdanov, Kaganovich, Kalinin, Mikoyan, Molotov, Khrushchev. The ninth leader was Stalin. The stamp with his portrait was twice as large as the rest. But that was understandable. The gentleman who wrote a book as thick as Voprosy Leninizma (from which we were learning to read) should have a stamp larger than the others.

We wore the stamps attached with a safety pin on the left, in the place where grown-ups wear medals. But soon a problem arose - there was a shortage of stamps. It was ideal, and perhaps even obligatory, to wear all of the leaders at once, with the large Stalin stamp opening, as it were, the collection. That's what those from the NKVD also recommended: "You must wear them all!" But meantime, it turned out that somebody had Zhdanov but didn't have Mikoyan, or somebody had two Kaganovichs but didn't have a Molotov. One day Janek brought in as many as four Khrushchevs, which he exchanged for one Stalin (somebody had earlier stolen his Stalin). The real Croesus among us was Petrus - he had three Stalins. He would take them out of his pocket, display them, boast about them.

- Ryszard Kapuściński, Imperium

I'd rather use a nuclear bomb

"I still think we ought to take the dikes out now," Nixon offered. "I think - will that drown people?"

"Zhat will drown about two hundred thousand people."

"Oh, well, no, no. I'd rather use a nuclear bomb. Have you got that ready?"

"Zhat, I think, would be too much. Too much."

"The nuclear bomb. Does that bother you? I just want you to think big, Henry, for Christ's sakes!"

Kissinger paused, taken aback. He collected himself, eventually responding with the one thing he knew would talk the president down from his flight of fantasy: "I think we're going to make it." Until Election Day, he probably meant; Saigon would hold on at least until then.

- Rick Perlstein, Nixonland

Whose America was but a memory

"Anyone who appears on the streets of a city like Kent with long hair, dirty clothes, or barefooted deserves to be shot," a Kent resident told a researcher.

"Do I have your permission to quote that?"

"You sure do. It would have been better if the Guard had shot the whole lot of them that morning."

"But you had three sons there."

"If they didn't do what the Guards told them, they should have been mowed down."

A letter to Life later that summer read, "It was a valuable object lesson to homegrown advocates of anarchy and revolution, regardless of age."

Time had called the Silent Majority "not so much shrill as perplexed," possessed of "a civics-book sense of decency." Pity poor Time, whose America was but a memory.

- Rick Perlstein, Nixonland

At Northwestern, students carried a flag upside down, the symbol for distress. "A hefty man in work clothes," according to Time, tried to grab it, saying, "That's my flag! I fought for it! You have no right to it!" The kids started arguing. "There are millions of people like me," he responded. "We're fed up with your movement. You're forcing us into it. We'll have to kill you. All I can see is a lot of kids blowing a chance I never had."

- Rick Perlstein, Nixonland

Through the looking glass with Richard Nixon

"The president dictated eight memos outlining a public relations push-back. It was part of the foreign policy game. De-escalation was contingent on [North Vietnam] believing Nixon would escalate; which was contingent upon keeping presidential approval ratings high; which was contingent on the appearance of de-escalation. As one of the big syndicated columnists, Roscoe Drummond, observed, only grasping one-tenth of the complexity, unless Vietnam looked to be winding down, 'popular opinion will roll over him as it did LBJ.' At which Nixon thundered upon his printed news summary, 'E&K - Tell him that RN is less affected by press criticism and opinion than any Pres in recent memory.' Because he was the president most affected by press criticism and opinion of any president in recent memory. Which if known would make him look weak. And any escalatory bluff would be impossible. Which would keep him from credibility as a de-escalator; which would block his credibility as an escalator; which would stymie his ability to de-escalate; and then he couldn't 'win' Vietnam - which in his heart he didn't believe was possible anyway.

Through the looking glass with Richard Nixon: this stuff was better than LSD."

- Rick Perlstein, Nixonland

Their new unpopularity

"[NBC producer Lew Koch] was inordinately proud of what they'd produced - 1968's version of Bull Connor's fire hoses: glorious moral theater, naked evil being visited upon innocents. He repaired to NBC headquarters at the Merchandise Mart after that first broadcast filled with self-satisfaction. A sympathizer with the antiwar movement, he thought he had advanced their cause considerably. The assignment editor asked him to help with the phones; the switchboard was overwhelmed.

The first call: 'I saw those cops beating the kids - right on for the cops!'

Another: 'You fucking commies!' He was referring to NBC - as if they had instigated the riots.

The calls kept coming, dozens. They came to all the networks, for days upon days. Some people saw noble cops innocently defending themselves. Others accused the networks of hiring cops to beat up kids to spice up the show. Lew Koch was so shaken by the experience, he left for a soul-searching six-month leave of absence."

- Rick Perlstein, Nixonland

"Godfrey Hodgson wrote of the media about-face: 'They had been united, as rarely before, by their anger at Mayor Daley. Now they learned that the great majority of Americans sided with Daley, and against them. It was not only the humiliation of discovering that they had been wrong; there was also alarm at the discovery of their new unpopularity. Bosses and cops, everyone knew, were hated; it seemed that newspapers and television were hated even more.'"

- Rick Perlstein, Nixonland

Two-thirds of Chicago cops called themselves racists

"Chicago cops had been angry for years. In 1960, after a corruption scandal, they had inherited a new police superintendent, Orlando W. Wilson, who was a college professor, one of the founders of the academic discipline of criminal justice. They saw him as an ivory-tower puritan, obsessed with showing arrests for the kind of 'victimless' crimes - drinking, whoring, gambling - by which cops from time immemorial had padded their weekly pay envelopes by looking the other way. [..] They hated him for his policy of replacing retiring white commanders with Negroes (40 percent of new sergeants were black his first year); in one survey, two-thirds of Chicago cops called themselves racists. These cops hated him most especially for holding them back from busting 'civil rights' troublemakers. During the riots in 1966, ten thousand officers working twelve-hour patrols felt as if they were hardly allowed to arrest anyone. Sixty-four quit that June alone, thirty-seven before they were eligible for pensions.

Wilson quit in 1967. His successor continued his policies. One of his first acts had been to shut down a Ku Klux Klan cell operating within the force, with its own arsenal of firearms and hand grenades."

- Rick Perlstein, Nixonland

"The pundits said [Robert] Kennedy was a uniter. The facts showed he was a divider. But to an Establishment hungry beyond measure for signs of consensus, the myth answered a psychic need. Moderates can be seized by ideological fever dreams as much as extremists; it has always been thus."

- Rick Perlstein, Nixonland

Well, somebody's going to get hurt

"On Januar 31, 1967, Secretary of State Dean Rusk, flanked by eight security guards, briefed some one hundred student-government presidents and campus-newspaper editors who had signed a letter questioning the war: football players, fraternity presidents, mainstream kids, stunned into silence by the obvious lies their secretary of state expected them to believe.

A kid from Michigan State: 'Mr. Secretary, what happens if we continue the policy you've outlined ... this continued gradual escalation until the other side capitulates ... up to and including nuclear war, and the other side doesn't capitulate?'

Rusk leaned back, hissed forth a stream of tobacco smoke, and solemnly replied, 'Well, somebody's going to get hurt.'

Here, before their eyes, was the maniacal air force general Buck Turgidson from Dr. Strangelove. The room drew silent, their thoughts as one: My God, the secretary of state is crazy.

The madness was not hard to spot, if you chose to spot it. The problem was facing the wrath of all those decent Americans who didn't want to face that their government was mad."

- Rick Perlstein, Nixonland

"Hangers-on urged [George] Romney to run in the open to build his national following and prove his grasp of the issues. His statehouse aides cringed: they knew the last thing that would help their boss was to rehearse in public. He was too damned forthright, too earnest - especially about Vietnam. He grappled with it honestly. Which would make what he said sound absurd, since everyone else was in denial or lying."

- Rick Perlstein, Nixonland

How I failed in business and in life

"Go to a bookstore, and look at the business shelves: you will find plenty of books telling you how to make your first million, or your first quarter-billion, etc. You will not be likely to find a book on "how I failed in business and in life"—though the second type of advice is vastly more informational, and typically less charlatanic. Indeed, the only popular such finance book I found that was not quacky in nature—on how someone lost his fortune—was both self-published and out of print. Even in academia, there is little room for promotion by publishing negative results—though these are vastly more informational and less marred with statistical biases of the kind we call data snooping. So all I am saying is, "What is it that we don't know", and my advice is what to avoid, no more."

- Nassim Nicholas Taleb

"I tell people don't get your representation of the news from television, because it hits you in a part of your brain, and the way it hits you is much more the story than if you'd read it. And if you read it, it's much more distorting if you read words than if you're reading statistics."

- Nassim Nicholas Taleb

The deaf will be very hard of hearing

Pundits who, in these exciting times, are eager to loosen the reins on their inner prophet, will find inspiration in the words of Rabelais from Pantagrueline Prognostication for 1533:

"This year, the blind will see very little; the deaf will be very hard of hearing; the dumb will hardly speak; the rich will keep themselves somewhat better than the poor, and the healthy than the sick. Many sheep, oxen, pigs, geese, pullets and ducks will die, whilst among monkeys and dromedaries the mortality will be less cruel. Old age will prove incurable this year because of the years gone by. Sufferers from pleurisy will have great pains in their sides; those who suffer from a runny belly will frequently go to the jakes; this year catarrhs will flow down from the brain to the lower limbs; and there will all but universally reign an illness most horrible, redoubtable, malignant, perverse, frightening and nasty which will so confuse everybody that they will never know what wood to use for their arrows, and will often madly write treatises in which they argue about the philosopher's stone; Averroës (in Book Seven of the Colliget) calls it Shortage of cash."