Vox Popoli

It’s like Air America all over again as the Fraters see off a challenger to their porcelain throne:

That was then: “The battle has been joined. Let the Fraters Libertas and the Powerline conjure the old and tired patriotic tropes, while this new patriotic battalion forms and fires….”

“A new death star is born. Chuck Olsen and friends have started what will no doubt be an awesome new Minnesota lefty blog; our answer to the Fraters dicks.”

This is now: “Silly kids. They shouldn’t have underestimated the staying power of the Fraters dicks.”

The Fraters Libertas: Keeping it up like adenosine junkies.

Rachel has an amusing story about her reaction to discovering that one of her precious pups is a carnivore. But even the most civilized dog is a killer at heart; you can’t get much more effete than my Viszla and yet he is pure death on squirrels. When he was younger and we’d go running around the lake, he’d suddenly dash to the side and hit a squirrel without breaking stride. I always called him off, however, so he learned to make that one free strike count. Once, however, we ran right through a line of ducklings and he must have been more curious than lethally inclined, because when I ordered him to “Drop” it, he spat the little fuzzball out and it staggered off towards the mama duck, apparently no worse for wear.

I don’t quite understand the fear of spiders and such expressed by both men and women in the comments to her post, though. It’s not as if I like spiders or anything, but I find it amusing, to be honest, when I answer the call to arms and see Spacebunny pointing silently and accusatorily at an arachnid hanging out on the ceiling or wall. Two nights ago, I was typing away in the darkness when I felt something crawl over my fingers and saw a flash of movement in the light of the screen; I was pretty sure it was a spider. Sure enough, when I reached over to turn on the light, there was a decent-sized one standing just to the left of the laptop. I’m not sure if I felt more annoyed or disgusted, either way, I made a fist and crushed it, then went for a paper towel to clean up the mess. Mankind 1, Arachnids 0. Don’t interrupt me when I’m writing.

That being said, I doubt I ever moved faster than when I felt something crawling over my shoulder one night just as Spacebunny said “Did you feel something?” She went one way, I went the other, and if there was an Olympic event for “getting out of bed and turning on the light”, we would have tied for the gold.

Ellis has lots of questions, all of which can be answered in the first two:

Why put man into a position where you know he’s going to disobey without understanding that it is evil until after he has disobeyed? Why punish the descendants of that man for his crime instead of allowing each to choose? Why the 10 arbitrary rules? Why not 20? How does breaking off a piece of yourself and having it killed horribly somehow allow forgiveness of those made-up sins? No judge in the world would allow one person to take the death sentence for another’s crime. How is that justice? How does it make sense to condemn tens of millions of people to eternal torment simply because they had never heard of you? Why did he even bother in the first place? To amuse himself?

Is there something I’m missing?

Starting with the last question first, yes. And then, yes. That’s all you need to know in order to begin thinking rationally about the situation. I recommend kicking this around with pretty much any game designer, or even a significantly experienced gamer, for a perspective that will render all of the obvious answers to these questions perfectly comprehensible if not necessarily credible. Once you understand that you’re in the position of one of the little orcs in Warcraft trying to understand not only the purpose of the player, but the Blizzard designer, you will cease being so confused about the universe in which you presently find yourself.

That little orc can no more begin to understand the ambition of the Blizzard designer to buy a nice sports car in order to impress a certain girl and how that factors into the designer’s motivate to create the little orc than you can imagine the purpose for your creation. Amusement almost surely factors in – we are created in His image, after all – but is unlikely to be the sole motivation. Remember, it was only the Earth that was formless and void; a Christian multiverse concept presents possibilities that are far more interesting to contemplate than those provided by a mere defensive mathematical bulwark against the anthropic principle.

Rumor notwithstanding, the delay in posting the latest Thucydides section is NOT due to my moonlighting as a backup disco dancer. Still, one is forced to wonder: is there a song that the Freemasons can’t make better?

I never thought George Carlin was funny. Not even a little bit. It wasn’t due to his language or anything, whether it was Carlin’s lame routine about seven words or his cameos in movies like Dogma, I just thought he was lame, boring, and obvious from the start and never saw any reason to change my opinion. His uttered wisdom, such as it was, seemed design to impress those with average IQs; they were chock full of the illusion of intelligence rather than anything approaching the real thing.

The Original Cyberpunk was impressed by Carlin in his younger years, but he eventually grew out of it. I’m tempted to say that it’s amazing how many people never did, but then I reflect back upon that magical moment in Paris and all is right with the world again.

Now, how can I say this? “This book is bad.” No, that’s inadequate. “This book is stunningly awful.” No, still not there. How about, “Carlin’s collection of allegedly humorous quips and stories is a week-old turd sautéed in dog vomit over a flaming fart.”

Yes, I think that begins to get close to it.

UPDATE – CB fails to note the irony in his response: “Honestly Vox, Carlin just died. The body isnt even cold yet and your talking about what hack he was and how his death is ‘No Loss’. Have alittle bit of class.”

Let me get this straight. An individual who devoted his entire career to tearing down tradition and encouraging disrespect and believed that humans are nothing more than meaningless collections of atoms is no more, so we should therefore, on the basis of the respect traditionally shown for the dead, refrain from discussing him and the quality of his past work as if they were anything more significant than an empty espresso cup or the pile of partially digested intestinal refuse deposited in the backyard by the dog?

I don’t think so. Carlin showed no respect, therefore he merits none himself.

What do they have in common? Both of them took a proudly triumphalist posture just as their perceived popularity began to visibly collapse. Neocon boasting of a permanent Republican majority was still being bruited about only two years before the 2006 electoral debacle, while as I noted in TIA, atheist identification and popularity have actually taken declined since the New Atheist literary wave began:

Most Americans believe that angels and demons are active in the world, and nearly 80 percent think miracles occur, according to a poll released yesterday that takes an in-depth look at Americans’ religious beliefs. The study detailed Americans’ deep and broad religiosity, finding that 92 percent believe in God or a universal spirit — including one in five of those who call themselves atheists.

Best-selling books can, but don’t necessarily, prove the popularity of the views contained within those books. In some circumstances, it is the reverse that is more likely the case, after all, the fact that I own more than a few New Atheist books doesn’t indicate that I agree or even think well of the arguments contained within them. It is, of course, quite funny to see yet more evidence that so many “atheists” define atheism so broadly as to include belief in God. But they’re entirely rational… just ask them.

And of course, in nearly half the major cases, the New Atheists ARE Neocons. Both Harris and Hitchens fit the bill rather nicely; they’re not conventional Republicans, but they support American military adventurism in the Middle East. Hitchens, in fact, is very nearly a true Neoconservative as defined by the elder Kristol, considering his former Trotskyite politics.

I have seldom been more wrong than I was about the Euro 2008 quarters, which just goes to show how often one can be misled by the level of performance shown in the group stages. Now, as most of the experts predicted, Germany and Russia are in the semis; the two that no one expected to make it this far are Spain and Turkey. I find Spain to be easily the most impressive, which one might conclude was the kiss of death for them were it not for the fact that the Russians were in their group and they crushed them 4-1. A few thoughts on the quarters:

1. Both Germany and Portugal had difficulties in the back, but since the German strikers had shown nothing in the previous three games, I assumed that it would be the German defense that cracked under pressure. It was the other way around. Ballack did finally come through in a big game for the Germans, but I’d much rather have Bastian Schweinsteiger on my team.

2. There was never any doubt that Gus Hiddink was a great coach, he took South Korea past the group stage of the World Cup, after all. Even so, his architected demolition of a talented Holland squad whose firepower had camoflauged their defensive weakness was remarkable. The fact that the Russian midfielders were shooting on goal anytime they were within 40 meters indicated Hiddink’s doubts about the solidity of the Dutch defending and the results vindicated them. I’d be surprised if he didn’t try the same thing against Spain, what does he have to lose, after all? As for the Dutch, I think Bommel’s absence really hurt them and I can’t imagine that the premature birth and subsequent death of the midfielder’s child – the Oranje were wearing black armbands on the night – helped any.

3. I can’t even stand to watch Turkey. I don’t like them. I don’t think they’re very good. I have no idea how they keep squeaking through at the last moment. Having either Germany or Turkey in the finals is like watching the Raiders play the Colts for the AFC Championship. You just want them both to lose.

4. As I mentioned when the tournament started, Italy was in deep trouble. Maldini was retired, Cannavaro was injured, and Toni was overrated. None of these problems were fixed, and to be blunt, I could have done a much better job managing the squad than Donadoni, whose decisions approached the inexplicable. What Aquiloni was doing out there against Spain, I’ll never know, he was practically invisible the entire match. The entire Italian attack consisted of lobbing balls into Toni, which works so long as he’s being defended by dwarfs who have no idea how to position themselves against an aerial assault. Toni didn’t score a single goal in the tournament; even at 34, Inzaghi would have found a way to put several in the net. He and Del Piero should have led the Italian attack, with Toni as a second-half substitue. I am so annoyed with managers in every sport who are infatuated with physical size and value it over actual on-field results; the fox-in-the-box strikers may not score the flashy highlight-reel goals, but they all count the same.

Spain deserved to win, although FIFA really has to do something about the tie games. Instead of penalties, it would be much better if they simply required managers to remove one player every five minutes of overtime and made it sudden death. This would be exciting, guarantee scoring, and almost certainly require less than the 30 minutes of overtime play now required before it even gets to penalties.

I’m sticking with Spain to win it all, although on the basis of my performance in the quarters, one might reasonably suggest that I’m not the most reliable analyst here.

Voice from the Pack appears to have missed the point:

Vox… proved beyond a doubt that Americans abroad are indeed the new English abroad. When a Frenchman in front of him had the temerity to not know where he was going, Vox spoke Italian to him.

Priceless.

I find it more than a little amusing that my little story about encountering a pack of idiots at the Metro station somehow managed to get turned around into a portrayal of me as some sort of clueless American tourist. First, I should probably point out that I do speak a very little French; my vocabulary is only a few social niceties, to be sure, but I understand a fair amount of it. One of my college roommates was French, another previous one was French-speaking Belgian, and I dated a Parisian for a while, so I picked up a smattering of the language from them. Second, I’ve lived here for a long time. Not even the English often take me for an American at this point; it’s particularly funny when Americans compliment me on my English. I always enjoy the opportunity to explain how I spent three years studying interpretive dance in Des Moines or whatever.

Third, and most important, Italian is, like French, a Romance language. Many of the Italian speakers I know speak fluent French, just as many of the French speakers I know speak at least some Italian. In general, the language divide among the multilingual is usually English/German and Italian/French, although more than a few of our friends speak all four to some degree; some even throw in Dutch for a fifth. So, while I could have chosen to use either English or German to address the befuddled old Frenchman, I assumed that he would understand more of what I was saying if I went with Italian. Which, in fact, turned out to be the case.

When your first reaction to this post is: “When did Sega open a restaurant chain and why would they do that?”

As for the post, I think it’s debatable that idiocracy is coming. Based on my recent experiences in Paris and with the girl Vespakazi, I’d say it’s well upon us.

I once had a Suzuki 750; it was my first bike and it was not the wisest purchase I’ve ever made. A 750 is a lot of bike for a first-timer and while I did eventually figure out how to ride it, I never got all that comfortable riding it in traffic. I sold it to a friend after a gym acquaintance managed to get himself erased by an old woman pulling out of the shopping mall in a 25-MPH zone. I figured that anything that left me vulnerable enough to get killed by elderly women was not my cup of tea.

I had, however, been contemplating getting a Vespa or something to ride to the club, what with gas prices climbing through the roof and all. It’s not that it’s far away, it’s actually what some might consider jogging distance, although the terrain renders that somewhat impractical. Anyhow, I was in the left lane on a one way street and was just beginning to turn left when an idiot girl – she looked around 16 – shot past me going about 45 MPH on the freaking left. If she’d been going even a little slower, she would have likely t-boned the car and launched herself into the brick building on the corner. Now, I’m certainly delighted to not have a massive repair bill and a dead teenage girl on my hands, I do find myself wondering what parent allows their idiot teenager to drive those things. I’ve seen the results of several scooter accidents over the last few years and even had to phone one in once when I came across a kid with a broken leg lying in the road, and in none of those cases was the kid over the age of 20.