When I hear our reporters echo the US DoD press releases, “the surge is working,” our troops can withdraw “soon, but not yet,” I like to think of this iconic Time-Life image. Justice was ultimately served on those who collaborated with the Third Reich. Sheared, jeered, run out of town.
December 7 is the day that lives on in infamy, when a Japanese naval force traveled across the Pacific unobserved by ships or planes, under the nose of our intelligence network, to catch the US fleet napping early one Sunday morning. Fortunately the newer more valuable American ships, including all our aircraft carriers, had quietly been sent on maneuvers.
The sneaky nature of Japan’s attack, combined with her similar blitz on our colonial possessions in the Pacific, made War With Japan an easier sell to isolationist Americans who were redoubled in their resolve after the disaster of our unnecessary participation in WWI. It’s conjectured that FDR knew about the Attack on Pearl Harbor, but understood that only such infamy would prompt our public to cry for revenge.
Whether or whatever Roosevelt knew, he is blamed certainly for having given the Japanese no alternative but to attack. The US was asserting itself as lone strong man in the Pacific, with expansionist designs of its own, and had issued an ultimatum to Japan that we would brook no territorial ambitions of theirs. We’d already cut off Japan’s access to oil, American volunteers were already fighting Japan in China, and our bases stood in their way in the Philippines. America had assumed Spain’s stewardship responsibilities over the Philippines just as the Filipinos were about to seize their independence.
So Japan was goaded into trying to hobble our Pacific fleet, hoping to smack down our bullying tone. But they clobbered only our older ships and unwittingly unleashed an industrial giant, which our leaders knew, and they would learn, would prove unstoppable.
Mark Lewis has been sent photographs taken by an alert Southeast Coloradan, of trucks laden with strange cargo for the Ft Carson PCMS. Strapped to each truck bed are several self contained units, of what appear to be modular living quarters, if your idea of a studio apartment is a single room, five foot by ten. On one end of each there’s a window in the form of a single narrow slit and at the other end a door with a similar window and a small utility door. If you were to imagine a place to conceal the Man in the Iron Mask in 21st Century prefab construction material, this would be it. The modular design looks like they’re made to fit into a honeycomb, reached by way of metal grates.
A recent executive order has cleared the way for military bases to house civilian detention facilities. I imagined barracks like the WWII internment camps. These accommodations look more suited to Guantanamo.
In my opinion, noted chronicler Ken Burns, whom I otherwise respect, does Americans a great disservice to title his multimedia WWII homage THE WAR.
I do resent the President and his enablers admonishing Americans for what may or may not be appropriate behavior “in a time of war.” We were not “at war” during the Cold War or the War on Drugs. And the War on Terror is equally an [existential, so-called] abstraction. Fighting terrorists, including the invasion of Afghanistan, is a police action. If we are talking about apprehension. Missile strikes are extra-judicial assassination. Undeclared military aggression.
But since our soldiers are being sent to war, and there is profound anti-war revulsion, and congress is being asked to collude by providing war funding, and we are detaining combatants which at a minimum should be awarded Prisoner of War status, we cannot escape discussing Iraq as a war, and most notably as an illegal war.
So when Ken Burns calls his WWII tome THE WAR, isn’t it more than slightly dismissive of veterans of all combat since? The Vietnam War lasted three times as long as WWII, to Baby Boomers it was the war. The Korean War, termed a “conflict” to avoid having Congress refuse a declaration of war, is now called the Korean War, even tragically the Forgotten War. World War One before it was The First World War, was known as The Great War, even the War to End All Wars. De facto it WAS THE WAR, but imagine anyone thinking to call it that in the midst of WWII.
Does Burns mean to deny [The] Iraq [War] its significance, even as he might suggest it lacks the legitimacy of WWII, the Just War? As Iraq casualties and atrocities slip from the headlines, it’s hard to see the diversion of WWII nostalgia as helpful.
Iraq may turn out to be simply the opening salvo of THE WAR declared by the corporate west on all of humanity. It deserves its due.
On October 31, the occasion of its 90th anniversary, Aussie descendants of the original Anzac forces reenacted the 1917 storming of Beersheba, a key battle in the WWI struggle against the Turks in Palestine. Of all the historic campaigns in recent or near-recent memory, why Beersheba?
And why not Beersheba 1948?
The newly created state of Israel overrode Beersheba in 1948, extending the borders apportioned to it by the UN. Beersheba appeared to be a strategic step toward the eventual absorption of Jerusalem and so Israel took it.
As historic reenactments go, why would the storming of Beersheba by the British be of particular interest to Israel? Why not any of the Turkish victories, or those of Egypt?
Joseph Kennedy, patriarch of what is often described as America’s royal family, built his fortune by bootlegging whiskey during the Prohibition and rose to power by mob control of the unions.
Ill-gotten gains are credited by some for the fate of Joseph’s offspring: the “Kennedy Curse.” Son JFK, elected president, shot; son Bobbie, declaring candidacy, shot; son Ted suffers a car-crash which derails his political aspirations; son of eldest son dies in a 1999 plane crash.
While Christian America ponders whether curse or karma, another constituency retains a dogged skepticism about the official account of both assassinations. That the details are still shrouded in secrecy suggests that whoever gained by killing the Kennedys is still around, and is still powerful enough to intimidate accomplices.
A lesser celebrated 20th Century up and comer is la familia Bush. Prescott Bush made his money in oil and nefarious financial deals with Hitler, and with influential friends formulated the CIA in 1947. His son rose through the CIA to be president. His eldest grandson was appointed to the presidency and to infamy as well.
Deathbed confessions, among other evidence, have tied the CIA to the assassination of JFK. “Conspiracy Theories” link the grassy knoll to ex-Batistas to George H. W. Bush’s little Zapata offshore Anti-Castro operation. (Alex Jones recounts that in the CIA Bay of Pigs Operation, launched without Kennedy’s permission, one of the American ships had been renamed “Barbara II,” its namesake perhaps the Grumman Avenger “Barbara” which H. W. crash-landed in WWII.) In fact, FBI records place G. W. on the first plane to DC (from Dealey Plaza?)
Recent improved photo-analysis show several high-ranking CIA operatives present at the RFK assassination in 1968. I’ll leave Chappaquiddick and John John’s Martha’s Vineyard plane crash to future leaks and investigators.
In the meantime, John Hinckley Jr., attempted assassin of Ronald Reagan while Vice President Bush was next in line, was not just any mentally disturbed highly-suggestible boy, but the son of friend of Bush’s son Neil.
And how about those fixed elections of 2000 and 2004? Never mind whatever it was that happened on 9/11!
Is America more prepared to accept a Kennedy Curse, than the possibility that one family’s and a nation’s bad fortune might really have been blood spilled by Long Knives, one Fascist putsch after the next, until the burning of the Reichstag?
Gunnery Sergeant Nick Popaditch lost his eye in the assault on Fallujah. His new glass prosthetic features a holographic emblem of the US Marine Corps.
This Veterans Day, Sergeant Popaditch was awarded a medal for pioneering an innovative combat technique. Presuming an ambush, Popaditch called in an airstrike, then drove his tank forward under cover of the C-130 gunship before its firestorm had subsided. As a result Popaditch was injured, but in his words: “(We were) just inflicting a devastating number of casualties on the enemy, and we did it in a way that no one had ever done before.”
This is the same tank commander immortalized on magazine covers in 2003 smoking his cigar as he assisted in toppling Saddam’s statue in Firdos Square. Articles told later of Popaditch’s tank named “Carnivore” storming Fallujah in retaliation for the contractors killed by jubilant Iraqis. Now he’s grabbing attention with his Few-The-Proud cornea. When we recoil at WWII accounts of the Death’s Head Regiment and other unthinkably morose nomenclature and regalia of the enthusiastic Nazis, can we fathom the imaginative horrors of our own X-Box-born killers?
Popaditch acted courageously by venturing into an ordnance maelstrom to certain injury. But whose kind of hero?
All Pikes Peak Reads has chosen this year’s library recommendation: ZORRO! Did you know that was a work of literature? Dumas, you think? R.L.S.? This choice follows To Kill a Mockingbird, Frankenstein, Treasure Island, and Alice in Wonderland. All accessible to younger readers to be sure, and literary to boot. I have no argument with Isabel Allende’s Zorro [prequel], to entice the participation of Pikes Peak area adults, but what for the children? Charles Lamb? Harold Lamb? Did Zorro capture their prolific imagination? No, the kids get to read not the Legend of Zorro, but ABOUT the legend of Zorro. Great, so it’s not literature, at least it’s history. Is it?
Not even.
It turns out Zorro sprung from a post-WWI pulp serial The Curse of Capistrano written by screenwriter Johnston McCulley. The black mask and cape were added by Douglas Fairbanks in his 1920 portrayal, and the rest is [film] history. So Zorro is Tinseltown legend, and the historical setting inverts itself from there. The Hispanic colonial rule of California against which Zorro rebelled never existed in that too-rural territory. But it sure creates a convenient boogey man from which the United States can feel better liberating the early Californians. Zorro, in Spanish “The Fox” being the surrogate advance scout, extending justice over the objections of the despicable Spaniards until the cavalry can arrive. The adventure published on the heels of US belligerent fight-picking with Mexico. So much for history.
A Zorro legend lacks even for historical precursors. Robin Hood might be the closest example, except according to legend, Robin Hood was a man of the people, not a rich man robbing for the poor. Zorro’s Don Diego follows more the Alexander Dumas model of The Count of Monte Cristo, avenging having been usurped of his noble birthright. Since the Enlightenment and the suspicions it cast on the divinity of monarchist rule, official chroniclers have been tasked to remind the masses that a “fox” could never be more cunning than his betters unless he was of uncommon blood. Noble deeds can only be expected of noblemen, hence the term. This stereotype has always trumped the Puss in Boots or Horatio Alger stories coming from steerage. The Count begat Zorro begat Batman begat the Green Hornet begat the George Soros secret funding mystique. Now we even speculate that Robin Hood, had he existed, must have been a disenfranchised noble. Likewise Jack the Ripper. Common man can’t even get credit for crime.
To be clear, the oligarchs know their people won’t buy rule by divine right, but we do respect Darwin’s survival of the fittest. And certainly fitness and advantage are hereditary. Only those fit shall rule.
I extend this deference of heritage to my real life heros, but is it warranted? Che Guevara was from the privileged class and is lauded by the counter-culture as the most heroic revolutionary figure of our time. But ultimately, and conveniently, a tragic failure. On the other hand, the truly effective populist reformers of modern times have all been of ordinary birth. Counting backward, Morales, Chavez, Mandela, King, Lumumba, Castro, Gandhi, Mao, Lenin, Marx.
Would Zorro stand up as an Easop’s fable or does he subvert man’s self-wisdom? Gotham cannot fend off its criminal elements without super-just Richie-Rich Bruce Wayne, thankfully completely benign in his vigilante despotism and not the least bit a corrupted-absolutely Nero or perverted Gilles de Rais, donning a Blue[-blood] Beard to mask his nightly reconfiguration of injustice.
Pikes Peak Reads is part of Laura Bush’s unholy surge, the library extension of the Every Child Left Behind travesty devastating our education system. Even if the choice of reading about a fictional legend was made locally, it doesn’t surprise me. The third grade of our well-regarded elementary last year followed The Legend of Sleepy Hollow with a lesser known Washington Irving legend: Batman! The former coincided with a Discovery Channel premiere of Sleepy Hallow and the latter turned up at the megaplex, it was: Holy tie-in with the H.E.W. Batman! A new beginning!
I’ll eat Zorro’s hat if Isabel Allende’s precursor, Zorro, a new beginning, isn’t coming to the screen this year, or isn’t precursing a sequel, which would make it what, a cursor[y] Hollywood incarnation? Next year the Pikes Peak pick, left for the children to decide, will be the legend of another masked, caped crusader, a legendary Italian everyman, and ever too mortal, Mario of the Brothers franchise.
Every year or so I search online to see what cartoonist Bill Watterson might have decided to do since putting Calvin and Hobbes to bed in 1995. I showed less diligence with another favorite social satirist whom I’m thrilled to discover has returned to the spotlight. He appeared reclusive, it turns out he’s been mouthing off to great effect on Daily Kos! I can’t describe my giddy thrill to see A. Whitney Brown and his insightful Big Picture again.
In the 1980s, A. Whitney Brown was the brilliant SNL Weekend Update contributor, the archetype for David Spade, waspish and unapproachably sharp. But Brown’s deadpan sarcasm and contrarian wit elevated the public discourse above the comedy, akin to Lenny Bruce or George Carlin, and spoke to the TV audience as if the truth mattered behind the current event.
Brown published a book based on his SNL segment, THE BIG PICTURE, which remains one of my favorite recommendations. As a used-bookstore owner, I know it sold well because there are a lot of copies still floating around. But like Jack Handy’s Deep Thoughts, or Allen Smith’s Life in a Putty Knife Factory, or Fran Lebowitz’s Metropolitan Life for that matter, the popularity of comedy books does not usually survive into succeeding decades. Whenever I see that a copy might have reached our 50¢ table, I snag it to take home. Today I’m going to revisit that stash and make sure to redistribute it with the good news.
You can catch Brown on YouTube, explaining why he still supports the troops. He’s been involved with Air America Radio, the Daily Show -of course, and his own projects at myeverything.com and more.
THE BIG PICTURE still has to my mind the most lucid explanation of the economic crime that is the National Deficit. Unless Brown can get his title back in print, I hope he releases it to the Gutenberg Project, to reach everyone again. Here’s a start:
We live in a nation of 25 million illiterates. I read that in USA Today. That’s a scary thought, one out of ten adult Americans can’t even read USA Today. What are they all going to do in life? They can’t all write for it. Maybe they can dictate the editorials.
—-A. Whitney Brown, The Big Picture
Quietly, with little mention in the press, the National Security and Homeland Security Presidential Directive was signed in May 2007. This directive places all governmental power in the hands of the President in the case of a catastrophic emergency (as defined by him alone). It also allows him to take control of the private and nonprofit sectors. It effectively abolishes the checks and balances built into the Constitution and demolishes the Bill of Rights. This is, of course, necessary to keep us safe in case of a national disaster. The “Unitary Executive” would be able to act quickly and decisively, without any interference from those other two annoying branches of government, slow-moving and contentious as they are.
Our Constitution has never been about efficiency. The checks and balances built into it were created to keep any one individual or branch of government from having unilateral power. It lays the groundwork for a democracy, not for a well-oiled machine.
George Bush has shown extreme disdain for the Constitution, the very document he swore to uphold. He has vetoed only a handful of bills while in office, but he has attached signing statements to more than a thousand, clearly indicating scorn for Congress and his commitment to enforce only the laws he chooses. He has taken bills designed to protect the American public and has amended them to be used against us. Congress recently handed Zippy even more power by passing the Police America Act 2007. He has stripped us of our right to privacy, our right against unreasonable search and seizure, our right to due process. All in the name of the fighting terror.
We already know that President “Hyperbole” Bush is a master of exaggeration, if not outright prevarication. He and his oil buddy, Cheney, lied to get us into Iraq. They’ve lied to keep us in Iraq. Long ago they planned to get their hands on all of that beautiful unctuous black gold under the desert. They are not about to cede power to a successor until they’ve gotten the goods. What terrible national catastrophe is up his sleeve that will enable him to retain power?
I won’t speculate about what the catastrophe will be, but WorldNetDaily.com reported yesterday that the administration has been authorized to set up civilian prisons at military installations, something that has not been done in our country since the WWII Japanese internment camps. Under international law, internment camps are used in times of war to incarcerate large groups of people deemed to be enemies or “belligerents,” indefinitely and without trial, of course. Hasn’t Bush already warned us that if we are not with him, then we are with the terrorists? Read the handwriting on the wall.
When the occupant of the highest office in the land decides what the law is, singlehandedly, we no longer live in a democratic society. We live under a dictator, the Unitary Executive. While we were sleeping, Zippy the Monkey’s big dream of being THE Decider has been realized. We are basically living in an autocracy. The Founding Fathers are turning over and over in their graves. But few of the living seem to care.
Prepare yourself for the war with Iran. Prepare yourself for the impending terrorist attack. Prepare for the national catastrophe that will allow the Unitary Executive to suspend the 2008 election and stay in power indefinitely.
Just watch. He’ll do it. He’s the DECIDER. We gave him that power. And he’s willing and able to use it.
My dad grew up in Norway under the occupation. He had a half-brother three years older about whom he was told nothing, who joined the Germans during the war and was killed at the Russian Front. My father wasn’t told when it happened, but remembers his mother getting the telegram.
We recently learned the brother’s name, and my uncle has recovered a photograph from the municipal archives.
His name was Martin. I have yet to see the new picture. This is a photograph which caught my eye some years ago, and which I kept, thinking it could be my family’s lost son, just as well as any other. It remains from captured German records, depicting an unnamed soldier, anyone’s. How likely is it that no-one survives to recognize this boy?
Martin was the product of my grandmother’s ill-fated first marriage. Her husband didn’t get along with her parents. He tried to poison her father, and in the attempt killed her mother. He was sent to prison, leaving my grandmother alone with the boy. When she began a new family, the older boy grew to become too much of a reminder of the deviant father, too much apparently for her new husband to bear. My grandmother was prevailed upon to send the boy away to be raised by relatives in the country. Martin disappeared before his half-siblings were old enough to remember him, traces of his memory effaced. My father remembers seeing a family picture which included a young Martin, to which my grandmother pretended, “that’s you.” And so one weekend a month, Gudmor would leave the family to visit her old aunt in the country. In later years my dad and his siblings figured out there was no such aunt. My grandmother died without telling the story.
It’s surmised that Martin grew up unwanted, ostracized by family and extended family, which may explain why on his seventeenth year, the Norwegian boy joined with the occupiers and enlisted with the Waffen SS, the German Army unit reserved for citizens of the occupied countries. He was sent to the Russian Front where he died in 1943.
My father called his younger brother yesterday, on a lark, though sometimes he is psychic. His brother was sitting in his car in Oslo, contemplating the photograph he’d just obtained of their lost brother. My uncle had also learned of Martin’s resting place, a cemetery for German soldiers in present-day Poland. They’re making plans to go visit his grave.
What is going to happen when this war unravels? Do Americans have any notion of the consequences of losing a war? 
No one made us apologize for Vietnam. We don’t know! Imagine when we have to make up to everyone for Iraq and Afghanistan. It’s going to mean paying war reparations with a debilitating effect on our economy. And can it mean worse?
It’s the urban-mythologized-product-placement “Pottery Barn Rule,” you break it, you buy it, and the don’t-have-enough-money-to-pay-for-dinner victim restitution principle, where you have to wash the dishes.
At the end of WWII, Russia quietly rounded up all the German ex-soldiers and shipped them off in nighttime trains to Siberian work camps where they remained as captive laborers for as long as a decade after the war. Have our weekend reservists considered that eventuality in their future? Sorry dudes. We’ll be supporting you troops ten years from now, sending off care packages to the Middle East to secret reconstruction camps, location unknown.
A commercial van passes our noon vigil on occasion, its driver giving us one of our diminishing no-confidence gestures. On the back window of the van is a “9-11” sticker of the twin towers, the American flag and the admonition ALWAYS REMEMBER. Frequently I’ve seen this slogan prefixed with NEVER FORGET, so we know the dullards they are addressing.
Do you REMEMBER THE ALAMO?
Hot headed American expansionists moved to annex Mexican land and their “sacrifice” at San Antonio legitimized American Manifest Destiny over Spain’s.
Do you REMEMBER THE MAINE?
An American battleship blew up in Cuba, fueling the jingoist call to take Spain’s remaining colonies for America. The Maine was later found to have exploded from the inside.
Do you REMEMBER THE LUSITANIA?
The German U-Boat sinking of an innocent ocean liner brought isolationist America into the First World War. It turns out the Lusitania was bringing US-made weapons and ammunition to England.
Do you REMEMBER PEARL HARBOR?
The Japanese sneak attack galvanized public support to fight WWII. FDR knew about the coming attack, sent the most important ships out on maneuvers, and stood down to play the victim.
Remember the Gulf of Tonkin with which we contrived an excuse to attack the Vietnamese? Remember WMDs? Remember the Sudetenland? False-flag ops all. Always remember. Never learn.
Daniel Pearl’s name is being added to the Miami Beach Holocaust Memorial. Said the murdered journalist’s father, “the same forces that killed my grandparents in Auschwitz, the forces of hatred, are still operating in our world in the 21st century — and Danny is one of the victims.” Say What?!
Pearl is the first non-Holocaust victim to be added to the list. No one’s been added from among the victims of genocides which have ensued after WWII either. Gypsies, for example, who died along with Jews, Gays and Communists in the German extermination camps, suffer relentless persecution still, but none have been added to the list.
Said the chair of the Holocaust Memorial committee,
“Daniel really died for basically one reason, and basically the same reason 6 million others did, and that was for the crime of being a Jew.”
Though Israel’s criminal acts of genocide against the Palestinians and Lebanese may invite some to think otherwise, nowhere is it a crime to be Jewish.
Daniel Pearl was not the first or last Jew to visit Pakistan. Will no one consider the obvious offense Pearl’s captors would have taken? Daniel Pearl was writing about Islamic militancy for the leading jingoist Neocon pro-Israel warmonger yellow-press newspaper of all, the Wall Street Journal.
On this anniversary of the My Lai massacre in Vietnam, March 16, 1968, let’s remember a time when the American public was not rallying behind its soldiers as they murdered women and children in the conduct of modern warfare. We did not support the troops who shot civilians under orders, or wiped out entire communities. We did not sanction it as collateral damage, the killing we knew about.
Above is a poster from the First World War, where the Huns were demonized for their brutality. They didn’t have the current US license aparently. This was part of an enormous propaganda campaign to urge the American public to enter the war on the side of the British instead of the German. Much of the attrocities attributed to the Huns were actually contrived. The Rape of Belgium was much like the Rape of Kuwait. Talk of newborns pulled from incubators, tearfully recounted by the Kuwaiti Ambassador’s young daughter who had been stateside the whole time.
The new US attrocities in Iraq are documented, when there have been survivors. In a military town such as Colorado Springs, you can walk among the fatigue-wearing murderers. They’re not painted as red demons. You’re admonished to support them.
Well looky who’s used the protect the border bait and switch before! Ninety years ago, same illegal immigration scare, same perp.
I happened across some posters used to recruit soldiers during WWI. Here they raise the Mexico bugaboo to ease worries that enlistment into the military would automatically mean duty in the trenches. “No More Men Are Needed” at the western front. Oh really?! It reminds me of something Air Force recruiters were telling Colorado College students on Thanksgiving 2005. US troops would be out of Iraq by Christmas. Potential enlistees need not fear being sent to Iraq because America was already pulling out. Public opinion had already forced their hand, they said, and we were pulling out.
For decades after the Second World War, German vets would get together in beer halls to remember the great days of the Third Reich. The Nazi cause may have become perverted, but its ideals were certainly grandiose: a Germany reborn as the worker’s utopia, a master race unshackled to bring order to a never-before united Europe.
My father grew up in occupied Norway. He remembers the incomparable German swagger. To this day he judges the authenticity of war movies based on whether the actors capture the arrogance of the German officers in their walk. I remember reading a Wehrmacht soldier’s autobiography reflecting on the initial ease with which Germany had overrun its neighbors. “It was impossible in those days not to feel immense pride in being a German.”
German regalia is highly collectible now, though my father remembers the days immediately following the war when Norwegians wouldn’t deign to pick up the Nazi medals, ribbons and flags strewn outside the German headquarters in newly freed Oslo.
Of course the German WWII regalia is collected fervently also because it was esthetic. A deliberate malevolence was courted by the fascists, a darkness amplified by the visual design of their uniforms, equipment and printed material. Albert Speer and Leni Reifenstahl were widely condemned for their contributions to the glorification of Nazi culture.
So when old SS veterans are clanging their glasses in memory of Germany’s grab for the brass ring, the nostalgia has quite a bit of pomp and polish. It was an Aryan dream in smart costumes and effective looking machinery.
Are ex-American servicemen going to look back at the U.S. adventures in Fascism with equal nostalgia? What trappings do the Neocons offer to distinguish their racist machinations? Wrap-around Oakleys? Kneepads and leggings? The mercenaries’ gold chains and Hawaiian shirts? And what stateside? Yellow ribbons? Cheap suits? Americans exude nothing but our simpleton arrogance I’m afraid. Yankee Fascism has probably required banality to disguise it. Later Americans will have to own up to our inhumanity and hubris with the additional shame that we couldn’t even transcend our ugliness for the occasion.
Real story is the US embassy in Athens was hit by an anti-tank round, like a LAWS rocket. The people being blamed for it are left-wing resurgence groups, on and off have been slamming NATO since the end of WWII. They started as an anti-nazi coalition. And apparently they still are. These kids were trained by US –as in U.S.– during WWII because they were anti-Nazi. But because they were also communist, they got chucked from the American goody-wagon immediately after. Along with most of the Resistance fighters of various non-approved political preferences. Kind of reminds one eerily of our current little diversions, vraiment?
The Queen is the first film to be made about the woman who has presided over England for half a century. The story deals with the days following Princess Di’s fatal crash in 1997 and the personal challenge her death might have posed for the monarchy’s public relations. The same period saw Prime Minister Tony Blair’s ascendancy to power. The story gives Blair credit, where the queen appeared to faulter, for recognizing Diana as being the “People’s Princess.” And then some.
Asked about his fawning depiction of Tony Blair as man of the hour, director Stephen Frears thought it “a mark of my incredible maturity” to cast Blair in the light of his glory days, this at a time when Blair and his government have fallen irrecoverably, adding that “it’s preposterous that he’s not in jail.” In the interview Frears also makes light of whether Queen Elizabeth II is possibly really as bright as her character portrayed by Hellen Mirren. The Queen celebrates the resolve of royal blood facing a crisis. Elizabeth is both humanized and lionized, by sticking to the stiff upper lip “the world expects of us.” Frears interweaves real news footage of celebrities and the flowers flooding the Buckingham Palace gates, counting the days from Lady Di’s death to the climax when the queen finally makes her long delayed statement.
That’s when Frears lies. He lays the behind the scenes personal anguish which might have explained the dishonor the royals paid to Diana, leading to the Queen’s famous address, but then rewrites the ending. As if Mighty Casey, his vainglorious ambitions thwarted in the minor leagues, stays true to his character that day in Mudville, and now because we can all feel a little sympathy for the self-centered fella, he swings and DOES NOT strike out!!
We all were there when Queen Elizabeth took to the microphone, and no close-ups of a fictional Tony Blair’s tearing eyes, proud of his stalwart sovereign, are going to recast the disgraceful blue-blooded reaction for what it was.
And what of lingering accusations of the royal family being behind Diana’s death? What of the rape tape which Diana posited with a servant for safe-keeping which tells, it’s conjectured because the British press are forbidden to tell us, of Prince Charles interrupted sodomizing a valet. What of Lady Diana being, not even arguably, by the power of her personality, the most powerful woman in the world? But unlike Oprah or Martha Stewart, Diana was a loose cannon championing the cause of AIDs in Africa, and the fight to ban land mines, both subjects the powers that be, certainly in America, did/do not want highlighted.
The Queen‘s smartest character, Tony Blair’s advisor who supposedly coins the term People’s Princess is let to murmur early on, “It wasn’t the press that killed her.” But the subject is dropped there. Instead Blair and his crew seize upon Diana’s death like Mayor Giuliani to 9/11, being seen offering bedside comfort to a traumatized populace, and reaping the accolades. Except director Frears offers nothing behind such scenes. Blair is shown as the earnest surrogate, standing in for his monarch until she can regrasp the helm.
With the ensuing years having shown us Blair’s true colors, what do you think was the more likely scenario? A self-effacing Danny Kaye Pauper Prince or a Rudy Giuliani? I find Frears’ characterization of Blair even more disingenuous, showing Tony living in a modest flat strewn with children’s messes, taking the dinner plates to do the “washing up,” and keeping watch on world events on a television with a Nintendo game atop it. This coming from a “labor” minister who was leading the conservative counter-revolution to restructure the British economy for the elites. Perhaps Frears’ adopted class.
The Queen owes its entire first act to Michael Moore’s Fahrenheit 911, the music, the build, the black out of the familiar awful moment, and the protracted montage we needed to absorb the tragedy and understand how it’s changed us.
The great disservice that Stephen Frears does to history, and to all of us because we are still living it, is amplified by the fact that he did get Diana’s death right. Princess Di’s sudden death did change the world, perhaps more than did 9/11. The World Trade Center on September 11, 2001 was a comeuppance. If the American people did not see it coming, the world did. That such a terrorist act was bound to happen was attested to the fact that the same people had already tried it and at the very same location.
But Diana’s death marked the end of civility, and people felt it. The third world may have been fit to burst under the weight of its post-colonial oppressors, but a great English civility had prevailed since the days of Ghandi. This was a sense that disagreement could be visceral, but apart from the brutality of the unwashed French or the uncouth Americans, a British sense of decency would rule out. Britain, not long ago the Empire, was where we got the rule of law, our rights, and everyone’s concept of a representational parliament.
The circumstances around Diana’s death would present an incredibly interesting lesson in power usurped from the people; Tony Blair’s arrangement with Rupert Murdoch for starters, instead of showing Blair reacting to the newspapers and coaxing his old queen along. The Queen is a marvelous story of two people facing adversity introspectively. Fine, except those personages were at the center of the unification of global corporate power and could not have been idle participants. As if Frears had made a film about the Titanic and chose to focus on the captain’s preoccupation with feng shui.
The 1990s saw a decline in every aspect of benevolent leadership, and I believe the premature death of Lady Diana was the curtain. It was hard those days after her death to imagine a world without her, and indeed events have proved that we were to face the worst. The turn of the century marked the ascendency of the Neocons, the political face of the globalization overlords. It meant corporate overseers with gloves off, Zionist zealotry unabashed, banks with no limits on their usury, and the world media watchdogs in the hands of the wolves.
The ruling few have their hands bloody in genocides the world over, endless wars, massacres, slavery, epidemics, poverty, famine and reckless abandonment. Before Diana’s death at least I believe they would have been concerned to wash the blood off.
It can happen here. It did.
Continuing our tour of the American penal system… we’re told about the WWII internment camps for Japanese-American citizens. Where were they? The Granada War Relocation Center, or Camp Amache, 1942-1945, was located near Granada Colorado, east of Lamar on Highway 50.
I caught a little of National Public Radio today. Here’s what I heard: A news story about a new program of repatriating illegal immigrants: by flying them back their ancestral homes, away from the Mexico-American border. It’s working rather well administrators say. The program interviewed a freshly apprehended Mexican who has been returned to his $12 a day parking lot attendent job in Mexico City. He said through a translator that he is likely inclined to give up his dream of reaching El Norte.
So let’s see, that’s a story about subsidizing airlines, budgeting Homeland Security funds for the tickets, to be clear. And the one-way-trips seem to be along the logic of driving a live-trapped vermint a minimum of five miles away from your home to keep him from coming back. Works sometimes.
So is it working with the persistent Mexicans? Hard to say as yet. And yet, here’s a report about it on NPR.
Switch over online to Democracy Now and what are they talking about?
Holy Shit, the Senate has passed a torture/anti-human rights bill which repeals the right of Habeas Corpus! The Right of Habeas Corpus has been nearly universal in the western world since the Magna Carta, since 1215 AD. Thirteen Democrats joined with the Republicans to pass the bill, including our man Ken Salazar, and everybody’s slippery rodent Joe Lieberman. Commentators have likened this bill to the internment of the Japanese Americans during WWII and similar national disgraces. We’ll be struggling to apologize and pay reparations. Many are sensibly embarrassed already.
Next up, a description of the Green Zone in Baghdad. Halliburton is serving pork there, and alcohol, insensitive to the Iraqis who must work and eat there, unclean. And on and on.
Can you imagine an informed American populace without the media telling them what’s happening? Why are your friends and neighbors not able to hear Democracy Now on their radios? Who’s standing in their way from hearing the truth over the public airwaves?
In Colorado Springs the gatekeeper is KRCC, the public radio station with a dedicated community of listeners, most of whom are kept in the dark about Democracy Now. On a day like today, it would seem the difference of opinion about station programming is less about taste and more unthinkably out of touch.
Are you thinking that you’ve seen this helmet before? You’ve seen it on Nazis, you’ve seen it on Darth Vader. Space Balls’ Lord Dark Helmet was nothing but Rick Moranis in an oversized Nazi helmet.
In WWII the German helmet became the ubiquitous black hat. It was also regarded as perhaps the best designed military helmet. Maybe there’s a correlation to Hitler’s Volkswagen. The VW design was so utilitarian its lines are seen today in countless cars. The Nazi helmet may be said to have been similarly evolved, but no one has dared duplicate it because of its visual stigma. I guess until now.
Our modern Kevlar helmet follows the same lines as the German M35. While the armies of other nations have emulated the original GI or Soviet models, the US adopted a new helmet with the side skirt and squared top of the prototypical Nazi headgear. I’d like to postulate that this design was not chosen for the intimidating deaths-head symbolism. The Nazi/US helmet offers superior protection at the expense of a soldier’s peripheral view. I think this is purposeful.
Nazi paratroopers and elite shock troops wore a more practical helmet, a decidedly ordinary straight bowl. Their helmet resembles what today’s motorcyclists refer to as a shorty, which offers the minimal protection acceptable by state motorcycle helmet laws. Riders prefer shorties because they can see more.
The majority of military helmets appear to offer the more egalitarian view of the field. It’s hard to picture Yanks getting a lay of the land, excercising their American ingenuity, and maintaining their bearing in anything more encumbering.
The infamous German helmet kept their infantrymen’s eyes forward, unquestioning, in the direction they were ordered.
Who has lost hope that the artist behind Calvin and Hobbes is only on a temporary hiatus? Here’s an album cover Bill Watterson made for his brother’s band. Click on the image to look for updates on his whereabouts.
200,000 Kalashnikovs collected from the streets of Bosnia by US forces were recently shipped off to Iraq via the usual arms dealers/contractors. It’s said the shipments were intended for the Iraqi-coalition soldiers but the guns have disappeared and it’s feared they are being used to fire at US troops.
Holy Fucking Shit wouldn’t you say? This would be the kind of story a so-called-liberal-press would love to expose! American war profiteers selling weapons to both sides! Where are the reporters? The world press is running with it, apparently our reporters are not.
WWII
The other day I was perusing a collection of paintings of WWII aerial dog-fights. The book had a not-so-subtle patriotic bent such that scenes mostly depicted American fighters shooting down enemy planes. My attention was thus grabbed by a dogfight depicting a swastika-clad Finnish plane having shot two red-starred Russian planes.
Noteworthy however was that both combatants were flying American planes. The US shipped thousands of planes to its Russian ally throughout the war. The Finns flew Hawker Hurricanes and Brewster Buffalos. These weren’t planes left-over from before the war. Our industrialists supplied these planes to Finland during the war. Our war-profiteers were making money from both sides of the war!
Recognize the plane? That doesn’t look like our swastika on the wings, does it?
I should say that I had never watched a veteran’s parade, I think. Wasn’t it supposed to be a parade of veterans? This was a parade of mostly active duty soldiers and soldiers-to-be. It was very disturbing.
There was a flatbed trailer, there may have been several of these interspersed, on which stood a current war hero. He straddled the platform, his hands on his hips, striking a valiant pose, his chin held high and to the side. A large placard read: recipient of medal so-and-so.
There were marching bands, real young faces. I hoped that as excited as they were to be in the parade, that they weren’t thinking of joining the military.
I had just met a gentleman looking for legal advice for his daughter who’d recently signed up. She was a promising musician in high school, she played the coronet. A recruiter had told her that the army was in desperate need of musicians. They needed her for their marching band. The recruiter assured her that she wouldn’t have anything to do with the fighting, but that she could serve her country in its hour of need, by offering to do something that she loved. She signed on.
No sooner was she through boot camp that she learned she was being sent to Iraq. She and her fellow musicians were told: leave your instruments at home, you won’t need them.
Among the marching bands was a band called the Rampart Regiment, (actually Rampart High School’s marching band, and state champions). But their uniforms were terribly unfortunate. They were black, a sort of turn of the century look with high hats, and a large black feather. They looked like Prussians, or what we would recreate in our minds if we were trying to visualize those mercenary Hessians! Their outfits hearkened to a day when the uniforms meant to intimidate.
Does anyone remember what distinguished the aggressive from the defensive soldiers in the last world wars? The Allies had the frumpy uniforms because they didn’t mind being seen as sympathetic. The aggressive soldiers are the ones who want to scare the bejezus out of their enemies. This has been true since warfare began.
White hat versus black hat, it’s true for cowboys and hackers. Good guys and bad guys.
What was Rampart thinking to dress their band looking like black draped raiders? They look like Cossacks about to swing down and slice you in the back as you try to flee from them.
What business do we have trying to glorify the terror of war?
I was horrified too by what appeared to be den mothers, preening their little kids in their little uniforms, to salute the passing soldiers. These were not just boy scout uniforms but miniature military outfits. I couldn’t help but think these kids were wishing that someday they too could be featured in the parade.
At that point I noticed there weren’t any wheelchairs in the parade. Top be sure many of the WWII vets may not be so ambulatory nowadays, but their disabilities were concealed by the antique cars from which they waved. Why couldn’t something like that have been arranged for the wounded Iraq war vets?
There weren’t any crutches or wheelchairs or homeless drunkards which comprise the largest contingent of Vietnam vets. Now we’re learning it’s even more true for the Gulf Gar vets. And there were no mentally addled vets with bandaged heads to symbolize their injuries.
And certainly the Veterans For Peace and the Iraq Veterans Against the War were denied permission to participate.
Then there was something most disturbing of all: a guy in army fatigues, youngish, stocky, probably a drill sergeant but uncharacteristically casual, and he was working the crowd. In nonchalant fashion, he was rallying both participants and spectators with a call and response routine.
“God bless America” he would shout. “God bless America” the crowd answered. I was reminded of something Bismark had famously said in the 19th century: “God protects fools, drunkards, and the United States of America.”
There we were, this veteran’s day, a day to honor veterans, ignoring the veterans altogether. An active duty soldier rallying soldiers and the families of soldiers: “God bless America.” “God bless America.”
Over and over. “God bless America.” “God bless America.”
We will need it.