What's With Us?

A couple of days ago the ever lovely Lady Nib asked your correspondent, "Will Christians ever get around to resisting the encroachment of Islamism into Christian countries? Will Christians fight for survival?" I thought about the question for a few minutes and decided that the answer was "Probably not. A minority will, those considered quite conservative or fundamentalists. But those Christians in the mainstream, having been raised with a 'We are the world' theology (when they have been taught any theology), or who subscribe to a 'name it and claim it' Christianity will do nothing."

It was an answer that I hated to come up with. But the history of the reaction of Christianity to the invasions of Islamism in the late twentieth century has shown that modern Christianity, for the most part, does not seem to have the will to fight back.

Consider the case of Lebanon, for example. Up until the 1970s Lebanon was a Christian nation in the Middle East. It was, by Middle East standards, democratic and modern. Beruit was called the Paris of the Middle East. Then the civil war broke out. Muslims poured into Lebanon from Syria and a great number of Lebanese Christians pulled up stakes and left the country instead of fighting. The result was that Lebanon became a Muslim country, the infrastructure collapsed and Beruit became just another big Islamic city hat no one in his right mind wanted to visit, let alone invest in. The country became just another Middle East Islamic nation living in the sixteenth century with color television and running water.

The Turkish genocide of Armenians (the oldest Christian nation in the world) in the early part of the 20th century has been pretty much accepted by the civilized world as a fact, but the Turks insist that the incident never happened and the kumbaya crowd in the West don't want to bring it up because they don't want to hurt the Turks' feelings. History, for some, has become completely subjective in the interest of appeasement. And many of those who subscribe to the appeasement philosophy are liberal Christians who are reluctant not only to state a truth, but are also reluctant to proclaim The Truth in deference to the feelings of their opponents who wish them no good

The following links may be better able to illustrate the matter better than my natterings:
Gates of Vienna: Cultural Amnesia
FrontPage magazine.com

Sunday Closing

Back in the day when your faithful correspondent was a tyke it was the usual practice for businesses near Nib Manor to close on Sunday. The only exceptions were pharmacies, service stations and the occasional liquor store. Pharmacies and service stations provided goods and service that might be needed by even the most strict Sabbath observer. I think liquor stores were open to keep the local winos from buying Sterno at the local Rexall Drug Store and drinking it when they couldn't get their daily ration of Thunderbird from The Captain's Booty package store. It was considered better to have a wino drinking booze instead of drinking canned heat.

The store closings, were not, in Los Angeles County, not a legal edict. The Sunday closings were the result of the merchants conforming to the cultural norms of the time. As far as I know, in this area, there were no violent actions taken against the odd 5 and 10 store that opened on Sundays by even the most fundamental Christian churches or bodies. The usual reaction was something like, "Did you hear that Grant's has started Sunday selling? I'll never shop there again."

Our Mohammedan friends seem to have a different viewpoint about Friday selling: Gates of Vienna: The Great Jihad in Thailand. If memory serves correctly, Thailand is a country where Theravada Buddhism is the majority religion. Islamism is second. Christianity is a distant third. But, for some reason, the Thai Mohammedans feel that the culture should bend to their norms instead of having the ability to exercise the self-discipline of having their own people not engage in Friday trading.

Meanwhile, parts of Canada flirt with Sharia law. Good luck for all those employees of Can-West wanting to get together at T.G.I. Fridays for a Molsen after work on a Friday night.

I'm a Big Ol' Meanie

Once upon a time your faithful correspondent was a child. Even a young child, believe it or not. At that time, being a child I wanted everything and truly believed I desired everything because I was me and there was nothing more important than me. So, after scrambling my brains watching Saturday morning cartoons and the associated commercials, I would announce to my parents that I wanted a Mr. Machine robot (or a Johnny 7 OMA or a Fanner .45 or whatever) and occasionally my parents would say "No." My counterargument would be something like, "But I need a Mr. Machine." To which said parents would reply, "No one needs a Mr. Machine. We'll buy you a new yo-yo instead if you're a good laddie." Which would elicit my worst condemnation: "You're a Meanie!"

In looking over the proposed Federal spending for the rebuilding of the Gulf Coast after the devastation of Hurricane Katrina I have come to the conclusion that I have inherited the Meanie gene.

I appears that Mr. Bush and Company have decided to rebuild every damn thing in the affected area, but only better. Not only will interstate highways, levees and locks (all under the aegis of the Federal government), but also sewers, roads, houses and probably casinos and brothels (which legally fall under the authorities of the state and local governments).

In other words, the Federal government has become truly a Big Daddy on the Gulf Coast. The state and local governments get a pass. They don't have to do their jobs. After all, why should the governments of New Orleans and Louisiana do their jobs now that the damage has been done when they never bothered to do their jobs before the hurricane?

It's infuriating. Back in 1900 a hurricane hit Galveston, Texas that resulted in the deaths of 8,000 to 12,000 people. The local and state governments appealed to the then president, Grover Cleveland, for Federal aid for the rebuilding of the area. President Cleveland said, in effect, "I'd like to help you. But, constitutionally I am unable to. The only thing that the Federal government can do is rebuild those things having to do with Federal matters such as Federal highways, canals and harbors. For me to go any further would be to violate the Constitution I have sworn to uphold."

But Cleveland lived in the days before Geraldo Rivera sobbing on the tube or Shepherd Smith throwing a hissy fit before a television camera. In fact, he lived before radio. And perhaps because he was living in a print age when matters where discussed in black and white instead of technicolor, he got away with being a Meanie. He was able to live within the legal restraints of his office and explain the restraints of the role of the Federal government. Now, in the age of instant answers it is, for some reason, the place of the Federal government to provide answers instead of those who purport to be closest to the people on the ground. The civic government of New Orleans plans the next Mardis Gras while the Feds (and you and me through our taxes) bear the burden of rebuilding the city.

The current attitude of the Feds being the saviors of the populace in matters other than defense and commerce makes one wonder what would have happened if our pioneer fore-fathers had the same attitude. The pioneers would have probably never gotten beyond Ohio, if that far, because the Feds would have been expected to not only clear farmland, but build log cabins, roads and local schools.

A Few Thoughts Pertaining to Nothing i.e. Silliness

For some strange reason the local news the other day decided that it was worth the time and electrons to report a story about the "supermodel" Kate Moss being photographed in a recording studio nasally vacuuming a few lines of cocaine. Well slap me up side the head and call me Nancy! I was surprised. To think that a "supermodel" would be an aficionado of Peruvian marching powder is about as surprising as discovering that male monkeys masturbate in the zoo.

This same week a report came out that another "supermodel" whose name I can remember was the victim of her step-father's greed. He stole and/or embezzled some 7 million dollars from her bank account. The surprising thing there was that she had 7 million dollars to embezzle. Is it not a strange thing that a woman, whose only job is to act as a clothes horse strutting up and down a runway or being photographed for a fashion rag would be paid enough that would allow her to have seven million bucks in the bank? Meanwhile, the engineers, mechanics and machinists who build the planes, roads and buildings in which she struts her stuff consider themselves lucky to make one hundred grand a year.

But that's modern life. What makes a "supermodel" anyway? In my lifetime there have been three models I consider "supermodels" -- Susie Parker, Cheryl Tieges and Cindy Crawford. Parker was the classiest, Crawford was the vanguard of the new school, and Tieges was the best. Tieges had, during her career, had the face, the smile and the figure to be a model who transcended high fashion and popular fashion in a way that no model before or since has managed to do. Tieges was the ideal girlfriend for any guy and the ideal girl friend for any girl. She made fashions approachable. Tyra Banks, Kate Moss and company don't. They look like spoiled brats.

On a second topic talking to a young woman at church last Sunday I found that she had undergone training in the use of the kubotan. A kubotan is a rod about 6 inches long and one half inch diameter made of aluminum, plastic or wood that is used for self defense. In a search of the net I came across several entries about the device:
Kubotans - inexpensive short self defense sticks. In reading over the various websites I found myself wondering how effective the various "martial arts" are in real life. Is a karate brown belt any more likely to prevail over a street fighter or bar fighter than a guy who's last fight was in the six grade of school? I asked my father, Count Nib, about his experience in the Marines during World War Two. He was taught basic judo in combat school. He said that the training was pretty useless for two reasons. The first was that they did not keep up their judo training. The second was because hand to hand combat demanded a meanness that was not taught in judo training. Those enrolled in karate, kung fu and tae kwan do schools are taught to spar. Punches and kicks are pulled. If a student goes through the school does he, by training, always pull his punches? And if a person has been taught a method of self-defense but does not repeatedly practice that method is the initial training useless in a real life situation? Has anyone actually seen a real fight between a karate, kung fu or tae kwan do man and a street fighter? I've seen a couple of "ultimate fighting" championships and that all seem to descend to grappling. In which case it would seem that the proper course of study would be Greco-Roman wrestling. And if the use of pressure points as a method of control. why do not the police spend more time training their officers in pressure point control than they do in billy club whacking? If nothing else, it seems a lot less tiring.

Finally. Why do yo-yos with wooden spindles sleep longer than yo-yos with solid steel spindles? I'm not talking about those nonsensical Yomega yo-yos or the Duncan ball bearing yo-yos. I'm talking about the "old skool" stuff. In other words, real yo-yos.

A New Addition to the Blogroll

Patterico at Patterico's Pontifications has often allowed Dafydd to make entries to Pat's blog. Now Dafydd has his own blog: Big Lizards:Blog:Main. Click on this link or click on the blogroll. The guy has some stuff.

And, as an aside, occasionally your faithful correspondent has been asked, "Lord Nib, why isn't your blogroll in alphabetical order?" The reasons are twofold: I'm too damn lazy to alphabetize it and the blogroll is chronological. I refuse to be a victim of the tyranny of the alphabet!

Kumbaya Part 2

There is a certain faction of the media and the opinions makers that insists that the Mohammedans are just like us whether secularists, Christians or Jews, in the West.

But time after time we read articles like this:>>> AsiaNews.it <<<>

The Gates of Vienna has a good take on the matter:
Gates of Vienna: How Can I Keep From Singing?*

After reading these articles you may want to reconsider your church holding a Vacation Bible School next summer.

A Class Act

Let's take a break from hurricanes, levee breaks and war for a few moments. A steady diet of rough news results in one having the look, demeanor and attitude of a Finn attending the triple funeral of his mother, wife and dog.

Let's talk baseball!

Each generation has it's memory of the perfect ballplayer. That one guy who, for a lifetime, seems to define what the greatest or most perfect ballplayer, should be. My grandmother, Grand Baroness Vera of Carthage, held that despite the fact that he was a Yankee, Lou Gerhig was the model baseball player. He was a great player and seemed to be a truly modest and kind man who was given a bad deal. My father, Earl Nib, always held that Dizzy Dean was the best. The ever young Countess Nib insists the best was Stan Musial. The ever lovely Lady Nib and myself think of Sandy Koufax as the baseball icon.

Sandy Koufax was the consummate fastball pitcher. When he wound up and released the ball he was throwing BBs at the batter, not baseballs. Fastball pitchers are not my favorite pitchers. I like knuckleballers. Knuckleballers are, in baseball terms, usually old, rather grubby and really disreputable. Knuckleballers are the tricksters of the game. They are the Bugs Bunnies of baseball, throwing balls that sink like a U or literally screwing itself to the plate. But Koufax had the perfect form. No wasted motion. A ballet on the mound. If baseball had been played in classical Greece Koufax's form would have been recorded on countless amphora.

Having nattered on about Koufax, yours truly suggests that you read this:The Perfect Prime - Los Angeles Times It kills me to link to the Times, but I'll give credit to whom credit is due.

Could it be forty years since Koufax's photo appeared in the paper holding four baseballs, all marked 0?

Our Pal, Mexico

A little less than a week after the hurricane hit the Gulf Coast several nations have offered their assistance for the relief of the victims. In a previous post your faithful correspondent stated that any assistance from any nations other than Sri Lanka, Canada, Australia and Great Britain, and perhaps India should be refused. This refusal is based on the idea of self respect. To accept aid from Cuba (offering 1,100 doctors), Venezuela ( money), Qatar (money), France (helicopters and medical aid) would put the Grand Republic in a position of owing nations that are, in reality, not particularly friendly to the US. In other words, those nations, and several others who have offered aid, would hold it over the US the fact that they helped out when we were in a fix and thus owe them something in exchange.

Sri Lanka, Canada, Australia, Great Britain and India are, in a sense, cousins of the US. The sharing of one form or another of the English language links us, and thus we understand one another. French, Spanish, Arabic? Hah! Language defines the values of a culture more than does the number of color television sets.

A couple of radio talk show hosts have mentioned that Mexico has yet to offer any relief for the hurricane victims. Never mind that such offers such be refused. Well, yours truly begs to differ with the radio yakkers. Mexico has offered their help. They've offered their help for years. Their help has been the illegal border jumpers who will take jobs from Yanks, black or white, for the rebuilding of New Orleans. It's just the fact that Mexico will be profiting from their help in a way that Qatar won't that the press and the government ignore; and both American and Mexican goverments studiously ignore.

Meanwhile, the Federal, state and local governments seem to have a hell of a time getting hold of the gang of illegal aliens known as MS 13:Immigrant Gang Suspected of al-Qaida Ties. Most MS 13 gangsters are from El Salvador, but Mexico gives them passage to the US-Mexico border. So while the wetbacks in New Orleans are knocking together a reasonable reproduction of a shotgun house in New Orleans, that same outback may be planting a bomb on a levee for more cash than he gets for wielding a hammer. Yanks may expect a higher pay rate than illegal aliens, but they care about the Grand Republic more than a guy from El Salvador or Chiapas.

But then, I'm xenophobe who's married to a lovely Japanese woman and who lives in a predominately Mexican neighborhood, so what the hell do I know?

Labor Day

For those who have forgotten, this weekend, specifically Monday, is Labor Day. Labor Day was created, in a sense, by force by the working class of the United States. It was, in a certain sense, the last time the plebes managed to force anything on the Federal government. After that first official Labor Day in the 19th century the "Man", the uppers, business, figured out how to make the pols ignore the suggestions, cries and demands of the working class by stuffing the ears of our elected leaders with rolls of the long green. But that's a whole other topic.

Labor Day was originally a celebration of the laborer, whether in the mine, on the farm or on the shop floor. It was a day on which parades were held, men and women who made their livings by the sweat of their collective brows were honored for their labor and the fact that their labor, probably more than the managerial classes, made America a nation that worked instead of a nation that consumes, lounges and looks for the main chance. It was a holiday that celebrated the working stiff, whether chipping at coal in Appalachia, pulling steel chips in Detroit, skinning mules in Missouri, stoking furnaces on a ship at sea or being stained with ink at an office in Manhattan. The day was a day on which the nation's attention was taken from the upper class and their antics and focused on the guys and gals who actually invested the sweat equity to the progress of the Republic.

Now Labor Day has become a day on which stores and car dealers have Labor Day Sales, on which union flaks try to bolster their sagging memberships, on which the average working stiff spends his or her day catching up on house maintenance or barbecuing, and is considered the last holiday before Thanksgiving (another sale day). Labor Day, instead of being a day that celebrates labor, has become a day for laborers to spend money and try to forget how under-appreciated they are. The Labor Day parade is a forgotten thing. In fact, laborers are a forgotten population. I's enough to make one nostalgic for the Industrial Workers of the World.

The Coasties

The Coast Guard has always been the redheaded stepchild of the American military. In fact, except during World War 2 the Coast Guard has never really been part of the military. Originally created as an American counterpart to the British coast guards, it's original job was, under the aegis of the Department of Treasury, to prevent smuggling and to make sure that duties were paid on goods imported into old America. Later the Coasties were taken over by the Department of Transportation when they were given the added duties of seeing to the seaworthiness of ships and boats, and the manning and maintenance of lighthouses. After September 11, 2001 the Coasties became part of that awful new department called the Department of Homeland Security (President Bush must have fallen off the wagon when he approved that name) and their duties were added to by the expectation that they would be able to somehow spot terrorists at sea.

During your correspondent's less than sterling naval career the Coasties were referred to a "Shallow Water Sailors." But the more I saw of the Coasties, the more I was impressed. They were always doing something -- rescuing stranded boaters, searching ships for contraband, chasing drug smugglers, while I sat on a 30 year old destroyer waiting for a war that never came. The Coasties had better training, better uniforms and a better domestic mission than us Blue Water sailors had. More than one time while watching a Coastie stroll by wearing a flat cap (the Navy sailors at the time wore Dixie Cup caps) I found myself wishing that I'd signed up for the Coast Guard instead of the Navy.

Now, six days after the hurricane Katrina, the Coasties have shown that they are worth more, domestically, than the Navy or the National Guard. A day after the levee started falling apart in New Orleans the Coasties started rescuing people. At the same time the National Guard, through no fault of its own, was cooling its heels waiting for the orders from the state and/or federal governments.- The Coasties have more than lived up to their motto "Always Prepared." As of the date of this post the Coast Guard has rescued more than 9,000 people throughout the Delta. For a service that is small and underfunded, that's an impressive number.

If you're a theist, thank the Lord for the Coasties. If you're not, thank God anyway.

Katrina and such

Well, the levees broke in New Orleans broke and the rest of the Delta has been devastated by the hurricane called Katrina.

There has been, by US standards, a great loss of life and destruction. And our great leaders have wasted no time in pointing their bony fingers at one another. and it is a sure thing that within six months there will be local, state and federal "special committees" to investigate "What went wrong." he results of the various investigations will be something like, "Everyone was wrong but us." In other words, politics as usual. For some reason relief got to tsunami victims faster than it did to the people of the Mississippi Delta. And for some reason the victims of Katrina has less wherewithal to get the hell out of a bad situation than did a surviving Thai or Sri Lankan or Indonesian. Perhaps the difference is that the average Thai or Sri Lankan or Indonesian expects less from their governments than does the average American. In either case, it casts a bad light on the model of the "self-sufficient" Yank.

Yours truly actually heard a radio talk show host bemoaning the fact that the various nations of the world had yet to rush to the aid of Uncle Sam. The particular host (a guy broadcasting from New York State, which may explain his dependence on the world) seemed to believe that there was a fairness in world affairs. We help you, you help us. It doesn't work that way. The Big Dog helps and the Big Dog is laughed at when down.

Since that time it has developed that Australia, Canada, Sri Lanka, Venezuela, Cuba and France, among other countries, have offered assistance. If George Bush had any pride in the country, and I have been doubting this for the past year, he would accept assistance only from Australia, Canada and Sri Lanka. From the Ozzies ad Canucks because they are part of the Anglosphere; from the Sri Lankans because they seem to be grateful for our help in the past. The others can go play with themselves in the corner as they are wont to do. Pride is one of the seven deadly sins, but self respect is not. The US is a rich nation and is able to look after itself. To expect a handout or help from nations that are diametrically opposed to one's national character and interests is to make oneself beholden to the guy who gave one a quarter,

Now, if you are a Yank and you want to help out those in the Delta, you might consider giving some jack to the Salvation Army. The Army doesn't do anything sexy. It feeds, cleans and clothes. And 80% of the money you give hits the street. Check out this website and think about giving a bit:The Salvation Army International Home Page