|
 ampshire
College is a perfect specimen of an idiotic little leftist college
and it has, unsurprisingly, issued a condemnation of the war in
which we’re currently engaged. And when I say “it,”
I really mean “it”: The whole community students, faculty,
and staff took a vote, and that vote ended up 693-121, in favor
of The War Is Evil.
And not only
evil, of course: racist (same thing). According to the college’s
official, democratically approved statement, “the ‘War
on Terrorism’ [catch those quotation marks] is symptomatic
of the racism of American society, in its disregard for the lives
of people of color overseas, encouragement of racial, ethnic, and
religious scapegoating and violence, and practice of law enforcement
‘profiling.’”
What liberals
or leftists oppose, of course, must be racist, or rather (here I
need some quotation marks) “racist.” Nothing can be bad
for any other (significant) reason. Dislike a policy? Racist. Dislike
a book? Racist. Dislike a person? Racist. Dislike a vegetable (say,
Brussels sprouts, my personal nemesis)? Racist.
The Left has
done many rotten things to us in the past 30 years or so, but one
of the rottenest is the destruction of the concept of racism, and
the words that go with it. They have rendered this concept, and
these words, meaningless even snort-worthy. Even a race-neutral
policy, such as that adopted in California, is tarred as “racist.”
So, when the charge of racism is made, who can take it seriously?
Which is a shame, because racism is or should be a very serious
charge.
Hampshire College,
in this great big country from sea to shining sea, is just a little
obnoxious pinprick. But its spirit lurks in several important sectors
of our society not least in higher education and is always slightly
sickening to see.
Guess that
Hampshire won’t be bringing back ROTC any time soon. And what
a pity, about those little Amherst-area colleges: Such a beautiful
part of the country; such un-beautiful people who get to live there.
Tom Eagleton is back. Remember him? He was the Missouri senator
whom George McGovern picked as his running mate in 1972. Then it
was discovered that Eagleton had had psychiatric treatment, and
“McGoo” dumped him (after saying, famously, that he was
“a thousand percent” behind his man).
Eagleton now
goes after another Missouri politician, John Ashcroft, in a shockingly
intemperate op-ed piece in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. He
says, in addition to other overheated things, that Ashcroft “wants
to throw out the Bill of Rights in toto.” (That would be the
right of free speech, of worship, and of assembly; the right to
bear arms not heretofore an Ashcroft target etc.) Ashcroft stands
for “anything goes,” says Eagleton. And while “the
single greatest symbol of America is our faith in the rule of law,”
that symbol “is besmirched by the rule of Ashcroft.”
Ah, the rule
of Ashcroft. You can have reservations about, say, the detention
of Middle Eastern suspects, but you don’t have to go wild,
imagining the attorney general a quite measured man, actually
to be an Enemy of Liberty.
Funny thing
is, I always felt sorry for Eagleton, thinking he got a raw deal.
I suppose I feel less sorry now.
In the Just Asking department: Does anyone suppose there may be
a link between these detentions and the fact that America has enjoyed
total quiet (to use Ariel Sharon’s word) since Sept. 11 (apart
from a few anthrax letters)? We were braced for continuing attacks,
such as when we started to bomb in Afghanistan. But . . . nothing.
Again, just
asking not that (all together, now) “the ends justify the
means.” (Many years ago, Bill Buckley devoted a column to condemning
the mindlessness of the question, “Do the ends justify the
means?” He began it, “Looking for a handy way to curb
the population explosion? Try the death penalty for anyone who asks,
‘Do the ends justify the means?’” That’s always
been about my favorite column opening. Another is this is also
from Buckley “Senator Lowell Weicker, I kid you not . . .”
I have no idea what followed that; I was just tickled by the opening.)
Every time Jesse Jackson says something awful I mean, really,
mind-blowingly, disgustingly awful I think, “That’s
it. His public career, or at least his reputation, can’t survive
that. That’ll do him in. No decent person, no acceptable person,
can talk that way.” But my thought and wish is always stupid.
Just the other
day, as we were waging a war against true terrorism, a short time
after terrorists took the lives of some 5,000 of us, Jackson accused
President Bush the man leading us in this mighty struggle against
terrorism of committing “economic terror” against Americans.
That was Jackson’s way of saying that he disagreed with Bush’s
tax and budget policies that the president was waging “economic
terror” against his fellow citizens.
Can you imagine?
Yes, if you know anything about Jesse Jackson. But nothing sinks
him: no words, no behavior. Nothing. He is utterly protected, and
when he dies, it will be with ceremonies and honors and media tributes
befitting a king, or a saint.
Hillary Clinton wants the president’s tax cuts stopped in their
tracks. Why? (Well, we know why, but I’m talking about her
latest stated reason here.) “I don’t think we should be
delaying what needs to be done for homeland security.”
Yes, that’s
our girl: always thinking of our homeland security.
She has a verbal
tic, too, not that I care (particularly): She begins most sentences
or about half of them with “You know, . . .” It’s
her little set-up. Gives her a second to think.
As I said,
this is neither here nor there; just an observation and not
bashing (the former was bashing).
The New York Times has been running obituaries every day
of those who died in the World Trade Center. Some people consider
it an act of obligation to read every one of them. I have not been
doing that, I must say; I have been thoroughly immersed in the iniquity
of Sept. 11, without the obits.
But my eye
rested the other day on a particular one, which I’d like to
quote in full. It will take just a minute. And it is astounding.
She was standing
on the Brooklyn Bridge when the first tower fell. Everyone around
her was madly dialing cellphones with no success. Suddenly, her
own phone started ringing.
"It
was my older brother,” recalled Patricia Gambino, who had
just escaped from the 72nd floor of the south tower. “He
said: ‘Thank God. You’re all right, and Michael is on
vacation.’”
Little did
either of them realize that at that precise moment their younger
brother, Michael T. Weinberg, 34 the stunningly handsome baby
of the family, a part-time model who had played minor-league baseball
for the Detroit Tigers organization and was now a firefighter
had just arrived at the World Trade Center. As the first tower
collapsed, he had taken cover under a fire truck. His was among
the first bodies found.
An avid golfer,
he had planned to spend that morning on the golf course. His tee
time was 9:08 a.m. But when news arrived, he threw his clubs into
his car and raced toward Manhattan. His car was eventually found
by the side of the highway, where he had apparently abandoned
it to hitch a ride with an emergency-rescue vehicle. “He
loved to help people,” his sister said.
Amazing, to
share the same country with such people.
I’d like to draw your attention to a pamphlet called “The
Urgent Alliance: Shaping America’s Destiny in a Season of War,”
published by Toward Tradition, a group in Seattle. It is written
by David Klinghoffer, a friend of mine and former longtime editor
at National Review. It is a powerful piece of work, looking
at 9/11 from many angles: historical, political, sociological, spiritual.
We have all read a lot too much on this subject, but this paper
is extraordinary for its thoughtfulness, suppleness, wisdom, and
grace. The organization’s website is found at www.towardtradition.org.
Last month, a kid named Alberto Martinez Martinez, 17, made a run
for the Guantanamo compound controlled by the United States. Alberto
is a brave and freedom-loving Cuban, whose father, Alberto Martinez
Fernandez, is a dissident and activist. Three things can happen
when you make a run for Guantanamo: You can make it; you can get
caught; or you can get maimed or killed by the landmines that the
Castro regime has planted. Alberto could have suffered worse: He
was caught, and thrown in prison.
Before he left,
he penned a letter to his father, which has been circulated by Cuba-democracy
activists. It is a little stilted, but it is a document and a
problem that deserves attention:
Papa, today,
November 11, 2001, I am writing this letter to you in the hope
that, if something happens to me, [you will see it as] my own
responsibilty. I do not want you to reproach my decision to ask
for asylum at Guantanamo, because I am doing so for the following
reasons:
1) I am one of many young, frustrated Cubans. When I wanted to
study the art of painting, the Communist government denied me
that right you know that was my avocation since I was a boy.
2) [I am leaving] because of the repudiation I suffered at school
during the events of the little rafter Elian Gonzalez. For having
an American flag on my bike.
3) I am leaving because of all the beatings you have endured in
prison, which you unjustly suffered the kidnapping and the beatings
on June 8th and 16th. I don’t know how to avenge myself on
those Communists bastards, who have made our family suffer so
much.
4) [I am leaving] because of problems at school on 11/1/01. I
was expelled for saying that prisoners are mistreated and that
it’s even worse for the political prisoners, and for telling
the truth and reality of the cruel acts that take place in Cuba
ordered by the dictator Castro. They taught me from my first days
in elementary school that Fidel Castro is a god and to hate Americans;
to adore the image of Lenin and to love the Russians. And now
in the technical school where I was studying before being expelled,
they taught me I have to hate the Russians. I do not understand
these Communists. And [I am leaving] because of so many other
injustices they have committed against me and other unfortunate
people who have not known the true feeling of being free and of
being able to express what one feels in a country where Human
Rights are violated.
Father, I only ask one thing of you, to help my mother whom I
love dearly, help her in whatever way you can, and have faith
in me that I will never betray our cause. Always remember me,
Father. Since I was a small boy, I was always at your side. Thank
you, Papa, for teaching me so many things that helped me through
life. If I fail, I will not regret what I have done, and I would
like to make this very clear for you and for the world Papa,
I would rather die than continue living in a country where people’s
rights are violated.
Hugs and
greetings to Chavel, Lisi, Cacha, and my little brother Karell,
whom I love very much.
Greetings to the following members of the Prisoners Club, who
are very worthy of the position they occupy: Ferdinando, Luis
Torres, Luis Diaz, Abad, Eusebi, and all of those who fight for
Freedom.
I love you.
It may not
have the felicity of Anne Frank. But we should listen, and consider.
A correspondent from out West tells me that the Seattle City Council
is at it again. They gained notoreity for sending a letter to Castro,
inviting him to participate in that infamous WTO protest/riot. Now
they are proposing that King County Seattle’s county establish
a “sister county” relationship with Granma County in Cuba.
Idn’t that sweet? That’s the sort of thing that gives
Castro the appearance of normalcy, on which his regime his totalitarian
and abnormal grip on that country counts.
Why is there
no sister-county relationship with Chile, or the Philippines, or
South Africa? Oh, that was 1980s conservative-talk, sorry.
One nice thing about Impromptus is that there’s no music
criticism in it, right? My Impromptus is my Impromptus, and
my music criticism is my music criticism and never the twain shall
meet.
Well, rarely,
I’d say, rather than never. I'd like to tell you about a new
Christmas album that is exceptional one of the best ever made,
IMO. There are many thousands of Christmas albums, and every year
about October we get a new crop. They are phenomenally well-selling,
as all labels and “artists” know. The best ever? If you
put a gun to my head, I’d probably blurt out Elisabeth Schwarzkopf’s.
Crazy thing is, it is “nla” (no longer available). This
is positively Grinch-like. That Schwarzkopf album has a power and
a pulse that is really unforgettable almost unsettling.
Others would
denominate Leontyne Price’s Christmas album, which is to say,
her first one, done with “Herbie the K” (Herbert von Karajan).
Her second is, cruelly, nla (and it contains, or contained, a magnificent
“Go Tell It on the Mountain,” unaccompanied). The glory,
or main glory, of the first album is a splendid, pure, transformative
“O Holy Night,” some of the best singing you’ll ever
hear.
Okay, this
new album I’ll be fast is from Chanticleer, the all-male
a cappella singing group. Chanticleer is best known for early (pre-Baroque)
music, but it does just about anything. In this way, they are much
like the King’s Singers (though the latter group is far smaller).
Anyway, their Christmas album is called ta-dah Christmas
with Chanticleer (Featuring Dawn Upshaw). Who she? She is
the famous American soprano, who can be either amazingly mannered
and cloying, or amazingly pure, sensitive, and moving. In the present
album, she is the latter, happy to say.
The Christmas
selections range all over the world, and through all periods. There
is a remarkable “Es ist ein Ros’ entsprungen,” a
remarkable “First Nowell,” a glorious Suo Gan (a Welsh
lullaby and not a Christmas song, but included here all the
same), a terrific, bracing “Beautiful Star of Bethlehem”
(a hymn), and “much more,” as advertisements say. They
end with a rollicking spiritual/gospel number, “Jerusalem in
the Morning,” that is joy and celebration itself. (Actually,
they end with a nice Stille Nacht I just checked.)
I have a great
many Christmas albums, and like to listen to them all in the month
of December, until the 25th. But folks, I can’t stop listening
to this one. It’ll do till Schwarzkopf comes back.
In the last few Impromptus, we’ve been talking about Made in
China products, such as rosaries, Bible covers. A reader writes,
“Not to brag, but I’ve been boycotting Chinese goods as
much as possible for more than 30 years. Long ago and far away,
I was a U.S. customs inspector in Chicago. I worked the harbor,
so I wasn’t digging through dirty underwear and looking at
velvet paintings of Elvis brought back from Mexico. Instead, I was
‘protecting and collecting the revenue and enforcing Customs
and related laws’ about imported cargo.
“One of
the laws required the marking of the country of origin, and there
are specific rules about the size and location of the markings.
Inspectors got attaboys from the bosses for catching improper country-of-origin
markings, so I was highly aware of those marks. I still reflexively
look to see where something was made. ‘Made in Myanmar’
makes me recoil and move on, for example.
“And yes,
I’m finally getting to my point, which is the change of country
names allowed during the Nixon years. As part of the whole détente
thing, we stopped seeing ‘Made in Republic of China’ and
‘Made in People’s Republic of China.’ These were
replaced by ‘Taiwan’ and ’China.’ Funny, I thought
Taiwan was an island, and Republic of China a country.
“Forget
about Watergate. I still hate Nixon for this change.”
Several readers
wrote in to say (in the words of one): “Guess where my National
Review coffee mug was made?!”
Remember the guy Greg Bonnett who is suing a Canadian strip
club because a dancer clipped him in the face with a high heel,
while swinging on a pole? A reader writes, “Greg Bonnet may
be a Canadian, but he obviously never played hockey because a mere
broken nose wouldn’t cause a hockey player to blink, let alone
send him to civil court.”
Bonnett is
also suing the stripper herself, for “dancing in a negligent
and reckless manner” prompting one of our readers to say,
“Only in Canada would someone want to see a ‘safe ’n’
sane’ stripper. Isn’t being ‘reckless’ part
of the job description? Are there exotic dancers who are the equivalent
of the Volvo? Who pays to see them?”
Often, I have knocked Europeans for their attitudes toward Americans.
A reader registered the following, elegant dissent: “The Europe
the press meets and the Europe the common man meets are worlds apart.
Just after the September 11 attacks, my parents and a couple of
other couples were on a cruise in Europe. They stopped in Italy.
My brother-in-law worked at the WTC and for a day or two I could
not contact my parents with the news that he had escaped without
physical injury (mental injury is another story). My mother told
me that while she and her friends, plainly American tourists, were
walking around small towns in the south of Italy, the Italian people
constantly approached them with hugs, tears, and sympathy over what
had happened. This really moved my mother and her friends, especially
since she did not know the fate of her son-in-law. Would Americans
do the same? Prior to this incident, we all thought about how much
the Europeans hated us, and we were angry that they seemingly didn’t
remember what our country had done for them. What a nice surprise
to find out what we should have always known: People are people,
and despite governments and the media, we really do care for one
another.”
Don’t
tell me I never end sweet.
|
