A Hearty Plea from the _Fehrnstrom Fishwrap_

A plea for U.S. to engage By Boston Herald Editorial Staff | Friday, September 28, 2012 | http://www.bostonherald.com | Editorials Perhaps having failed to get a face-to-face meeting with President Barack Obama, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu used the megaphone of the U.N. General Assembly to make his point that there is little time left in the fight to keep Iran from getting a nuclear weapon — a cause Obama insists he is committed to. “At this late hour, there is only one way to peacefully prevent Iran from getting atomic bombs and that’s by placing a clear red line on Iran’s nuclear weapons program,” Netanyahu said. “Red lines don’t lead to war; red lines prevent war.” And with the help of a rather simple graphic — based on public reports by the U.N.’s own nuclear watchdogs — he insisted that Iran is well within its second stage of uranium enrichment.... (...) He made the requisite pitch for a peace process with a “demilitarized Palestinian state” that would recognize Israel’s right to exist only to be followed at the podium by Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas accusing Israel of “a campaign of ethnic cleansing” for building settlements in east Jerusalem. “We won’t solve our conflict with libelous speeches at the U.N.,” Netanyahu had said moments earlier. Nor will the problems of the Middle East — Iran, the conflict in Syria, the virtually stalled peace process between Israel and the Palestinian Authority — be solved by a president and an administration that are derelict in their duty to engage on those issues. To relinquish that authority is to create a vacuum that other players, like Russia’s Vladimir Putin, are all too eager to fill.

Q What do the editorial-anonymous Fingers of Fehrnstrom have in mind, exactly, when they preach 'engagement' to the freedummies?

A. A red line.

Q. Would that be an Alewife-Ashmont red line, or Alewife-Braintree?

A. Oh, definitely the former. Everything with a 'brain' in it has been conceded to Perfesser Warren and Mr. Chamberlain in advance.


Nevertheless, the Fingers DID almost, though not quite, notice how Magnifico Megalator thinks he's the Headmaster of an idiot school servicin Rio Limbaugh an Louisedayhicksville. "A rather simple graphic" is only in the warning zone, there is no immediate emergency, but the Tel 'Aviyv authorities would do well to assume that wombschoolin has not yet reduced the Tee Putty of central North America to PERFECT malleability. That it may never do so, even. Meanwhile, the closer you come to total malleability, the worse trouble you will be in, should your patients nevertheless start feelin that (what is left of) their intelligence has been insulted.

Lifting one's eyes from the local journalistic gutter, one must allow that "“We won’t solve our conflict with libelous speeches" was pretty nifty, agitpropwise. It happens to be the truth, which is never a bad thing for the agitpropper to deploy, provided nothing more important must be sacrificed. [*]

Happy days.

___
[*] The freedummies, or their Freelords an Kiddiemasters, may not altogether agree with Paddy's off-the-mouse generalization.

Lately the makin of libelous speeches (sc., against othervolks' religionism) has made a major come-back in whight-ring circles. Now of course conflict resolution is not exactly the point of insistin that Wunnerful US ought to be as rude as possible about Natives. Apart from the narrow interests of _jihaad_ careerists, the object of this exercise appears to be to make sure Amendment I to the Fedguv Constitution gets enough exercise so that it does not rust, or lapse into obesity, or whatever fate it may be that befalls amendments when they go ahoo.

Should these, the Calisthenics of Freedumb, as it were, lead to even more difficulties for our Native Management specialists and violence pros, well, that may or may not be accounted a misfortune at Wingut City, but it is certainly not a reason for the cits to abstain from what they have every whight to do.

"Not much of a line"

Robert Fisk Demonizes Mideast’s Persecuted Christians Posted By Raymond Ibrahim On June 26, 2012 @ 12:00 am.... Robert Fisk, the Middle East correspondent for the UK’s widely-read Independent, recently showed why it is that Islamic jihadists and terrorists, including the late Osama bin Laden, strongly recommend his propaganda to Western readers.   In a recent article Fisk goes out of his way to demonize the abused Christian minorities of the Middle East for supporting those secularist leaders most likely to preserve their freedoms and dignity.   For instance, after portraying the Middle East’s “old guard” in the worst possible terms, he complains that “Ahmed Shafiq, the Mubarak loyalist, has the support of the Christian Copts, and Assad has the support of the Syrian Christians. The Christians support the dictators. Not much of a line, is it?” (( ... whine ... whimper ... yimmer ... yammer ... ))

Moved by self-modesty, or whatever, M. le baron d’Ibrahime leaves unquoted Comrade Fisk’s really unforgivable analysmear:

But I am also aware that the Shafik warriors, those in Washington who want Shafik to restore Egypt’s old relationship with Israel, those who want, in effect, to restore Mubarak’s dictatorship, to recreate the old paradigm (Mubarak "stability" versus the old fear of Muslim Brotherhood), will want to pump up Christian fears and frighten the West with the awfulness of "Muslim fundamentalism", will pop up their heads again as surely as Assad. And as the Republicans close in on Obama, will they not show their love for Mubarak’s last Prime Minister?

One could argue, I suppose, that what that paragraph mostly proves is that Robert Fisk has inadequate notions of America’s Otherparty, the vast majority of whom--not Party base-and-vile alone, but certified G.O.P. Geniuses also--don’t waste more than fifteen seconds a week moanin’ over the woes of the Neolevant. Maybe not three seconds a week since they gave us the Crawford Crash.

I can imagine some court historian to Princess Posterity maintaining, more or less seriously, that General Mubárak fell because his ideobuddies at Washington, and Tel ’Avîv, and Rio Limbaugh FL, and Pajama Junction NJ, were too worried about the state of their secret-sector financial portfolioes to pay proper attention to Problems of Native Management.

That may be overspecific, and I would not dream of insisting.   In a broader and more general way, however, the jihád-careerist community, to which M. le baron so beautifully belongs, are probably in for a bumpy ride.   More and more often, nifty schemes of Native Management will run into an immoveable object called Grover, Freelord Norquist.  Clever, but pricey, neoplans will be hooted at disrepectfully with short-sighted but crowd-pleasin’ folly like "¿Hey, Bozo, didn’t anybody tell you we are broke?"

Bozo, that is to say, M. le baron d’Ibrahime, may be further discouraged if the Great Frakkin’ Bubble takes off the way it might.   Mostvolks here in the Heimatland G*ttes would be happy to possess more "energy independence." Jihád careerists, however, are definitely NOT mostvolks when it comes to fossil fuel, and a number of other specialised points. [*]

Oh, well, one can hardly expect to please absolutely everybooby.

Happy days.

___
[*] As homage to Fairembalance, the Fox Goddess, let me insist that only the greediest of oncological entrepreneurs would positively wish there were more cancer in the world. What we run up again with the collective self-interest of quacks or J. C.’s is no worse than the Rev. Clough’s update of Commandment VI: "Thou shalt not kill, but needst not strive, / Officiously to keep alive."

Olives, Vines, Vices, Bin Ledeen

Dear Dr. Bones,

Scribblin’ for pajamaclad masses that yearn to ¡take their Freedumb back! is hardly the ideal context in which His Eminence, Michael Grand ’Ayátalláh Bin Ledeen, can show that he really does know quite a lot about Italy. Most of this knowledge is at whight angles with what the Squire of Simon Pajama --an’ World’s Greatest YaleoDraama™ist, never forget that part--considers that Master Wally Wombschool an’ Cindy from Wasilla ought to be hearin’ about the miserable Old Euroes.

As you can see at a glance, O Bones, the Kiddiemaster gets his way an’ the kiddies get this Procrustean gunk, Berlusconistán

tarted up [1] to sound like North Korea.

And the moral of THAT is, "She who pays the piper, calls the tune."

Under the mercenary circumstances Paddy and Eye are not even sure that Muscle Mikey is bein’ honest with the kiddies of Pajama Junction NJ about his personal freelordly druthers. I guess we have to stipulate that he is, however, in which case it seems clear that the place he would fit in best is "Ancient Poland," as Pani Landowska called the splendiferous Rzeczpospólita of Century XII-XVIII-LV. There may have been --nay, there were--various other problems that some have considered pretty severe, but plainly the Wicked State did not have its vacuum cleaner plugged into one’s wallet pocket the way Uncle Sam (an’ the late Uncle Silvio) plug themselves in nowadays. Such Wicked State as was permitted to exist in good King Veto’s Golden Commonwealth knew its place, understood that it existed on sufferance for the convenience of Lubomirscy, and Radziwillowie, an’ Bin Ledeens, an’ Simons Pajama (also of Willards Mitt Romney), not their freelordships for State convenience.

This destination being, alas, out of reach until the Jobcreationist ©ommunity (_¡regina in æternum vivat!_) get the bugs out of the time-travel product, I guess the ideal slot for the Whight Reverend Bin Ledeen would be something like C. S. O., Chief Spiritual Officer, to the Cayman Islands. Presumably this position does not exist at the moment, but ’twould be easy enought to innovate it, much easier than makin’ ¡jedz, pij, i popuszczaj pasa! available to his freelordship. They gotta have at least one decent hotel down there the Rev. Mikey could guru it out of.

Those for whose convenience the Cayman Islands exist (quâ pseudopolity, I mean, not just geographically or geologically) rarely actually visit the [exp. del.] place, I believe. ¿Ain’t globalisation wunnerful?   Muscle Mikey, however, ought to be physically in residence most of the time. Bein’ but a Spiritual officer, his freelordship should have it made very plain to him that "First Estate" is strictly a phrase of courtesy, and does not involve any firstness that would put one even on a par with such goodvolks as Really Matter [*], Lubomirscy, an’ Walkers Bush, an’ Willards Mitt, an’ Koch Frères, an’ Berlusconiowie, an’ . . . .

Happy days.

____
[1] The uptartin’ is a curious business, though Eye do not care to get launched into more scribble about it than Muscle Mikey merits. Which ain’t a whole lot.

Briefly, though: take "discovery of financial corruption at the highest levels of the party."

Now Italy, and à fortiori the Lombard League, in fact exist more for the Berlusconioid Class convenience than _vice versâ_, so ¿What else would one expect?   Perhaps his freelordship cherishes the noble hope, even the dotty anticipation, that one day scab pols will scab for their Betters without any recompense whatever, disinterestedly an’ out of sheer _geistlich_ admiration for Betterness-as-such.   Professional FirstEstaters like His Eminence *do* have a tendency to fall into that hire-minded type of sandtrap, after all.

Whereas ignorant lay sheeps like the Muses and you, Dr. Bones, and Paddy and Eye think we know better than to hold our breath waiting for præternatural wunners to come to pass.

[2] The whight-wing Tanks of Thought are infested with "small people" who could do with havin’ this lesson rubbed into ’em with maybe a bullwhip.   But Eye digresses.

"the NYPD is increasingly derided"

Dear Dr. Bones,

It was a dark, stormy night. The Jumblies were far out in the Whight Sea, as they complacently supposed, in their goodship "Western Sieve," as they had been for over a century [1], when suddenly the unmistakable sound of surf on a rocky shore . . . .

’Ammá ba‘da, "but seriously,"

I just this minute realized that Fairembalance, the Fox Goddess, requires the recognizer to recognize that kiddie selfservatives exhibit a certain praiseworthy consistency in bein’, as most of ’em seem to be, at once Islamophobes an’ practitioners of (what I seem to remember that we once agreed to call) "reverse envy," their self-passionate fear an’ loathin’ of any hint that persons plainly worse off than the kiddies themselves might be closing the gap. (Invidia proper must be directed at one’s Betters.) The idea that the abhominable Muzzies are gonna overrun Wunnerful US before the end of the next Congress is about as dotty as dottiness gets.

Some of the bestembrighter Kiddiemasters have vaguely noticed that is not really all that much to be terrorized of, an’ adjusted their whight-noise machines accordin’ly. Among these is, evidently, Adam, zeroth Freelord Turner in the neopeerage, who has hitherto, ¡qué lástima!, eluded the attention of the present keyboard. Such moderate neo-militants admit, by their own original (¿?) arguments if not expressly, that their Party Neocomradesss Ch. K. N. Little has maybe exaggerated the Muzzie Menace a little. In the scribble at hand, we find the criminalien fiends postponing their vile schemes to take away the kiddies’ Kountry altogether in favor of a sort of preliminary sortie aimed at one of Rio Limbaugh’s most precious body fluids, namely the kiddiecons’ Freedumb of Speech. The goodship "Western Sieve" is not gonna founder altogether, at least not immediately, but she *is* in gravest danger of bein’ boarded an’ taken by crudthirsty pirates who will slit throats--figuratively, but not on that account any less unacceptably--if they hear even a single faintly discouraging word about _’Alláh_ and a’ that.

This scandalous sievejackin’ has already started: it has come to his freelordship’s attention that "the NYPD is increasingly derided for being anti-Muslim." [2] I trust I need not point out to the Muses or to you, Dr. Bones, what obamanations of desolation lie in wait at the bottom of *that* slippery slope. Why, next thing you know, ¡... Kankakee ... psoriasis ... broken-window effect ...!

But I beg your opardon, you can of course do that parlour game for yourself, and it is far better fun to play than to watch.

(( But ¿What was M*h*mm*d doing in front of the beer bottle? ¡Kankakee demands to know! ))

Happy days.
--JHM

___
[1] Remind me from time to time, please, of my project of looking out who first invented the "Western Civilisation" ideoproduct, and exactly what ax she was grinding. WC cannot have been a self-servicin’ Judæostatist gimmick *originally*, that way the chronology would be upside-down. I think I told of my unverified guess that originally everybooby Euro on the wrong side of the Alps, whwther geographically or dogmatic-mythologically, was proposed to be written off as merely Southern civilians--slacker devotees of "olives, vines and vices," witless worshippers of Bread, &c. &c.

[2] Quick, quick: ¿Can you, sir, without clicking on the freelordly link, make up a good joke against Gotham City’s finest that also panders to Muzziedom? ¿Even a not-so-good joke?

The Arab Spring Unsprung

Dear Dr. Bones,

I suppose the Muses and you and I ought to feel gratified whenever we hear a theorist of Team Zhabotinskiy sayin’ out loud in public [1] what we have long supposed her crew to think in the comfort an’ security of the Secret Sector.

An objector might object that to speak of Pajama Junction NJ as "public" without some fairly elaborate qualification is to ask for trouble down the slippery slope.

_Respondeo_ that this is _in primis_ a problem for the Zhabotiskiyites rather than for us humble. We might be better off the less careful TZh are about distinguishin’ Foxcuckooland from the United States of America.

I only say ‘might’, however, for there *may* (I only say ‘may’) be a happy convergence of morality and policy somewhere in the vicinity of "Always better for everybooby, if everybooby sees the Correlation of Farces as the C. of F. actually is" No cloud comes without a thorn, though: that formula would make foxcuckoos an’ pajamaclads a standin’ --STANDIN’--menace to everybooby in sight, for seein’ things as the kiddiecons (or the Conners of Kiddies) wish they was is, as it were, the active ingredient in pajamatarianism.

To sneak up on the announced topic, if I may, let me suggest a counterfactual pscenario to you, as follows: ¿How if the Arab Republic of Egypt were to grow a Child’s Garden of Foxcuckoes all her own?

Few humanoid events are less likely, I know, but sometimes dotty examples are helpful by virtue of their dottiness. Or look on the flip side of it, sir, which I venture to think is hardly counterfactual at all, namely that Zhabotinskiyanity has scant hope of ever becomin’ the established religionism of central North America by cozyin’ up to our violence pros rather than to Uncle Scrooge an’ Daddy Warbucks _y Tio Ruperto_ an’ all that wing of the national family.

To recur to First Principles, sort of, ’tis "well known in the art" that to be a success at pushin’ the lesser breeds without around, a Natural Master [1] may deploy one of two (and ONLY two) quite distinct Principles: (1a) FORCE, and (1b) fraud.

Here, for example, we find _M. le baron de Roubine_ singin’ the praises of (1a) as applied to the grave problems of Native Management that Egypt undoubtedly poses. All I am doing, really, is, first, to point out that the freelordly incantation is itself an instance of (1b) conducted for the benefit (¿?) of the Kiddie Selfservative Movement here in the _Heimatland G*ttes_, and then, second and finally, add that, although in theory TZh could pull off a sort of double goose-and-gander, rulin’ Cairo UAR by fraud, an’ Cairo IL by ¡FORCE! happily ever after, yet in practice, well, ¡please don’t be dotty!

Though First Principles beckon, I believe I will stick for now to Egyptian Exceptionalism, which is not, I presume, quite altogether first-class, principlewise. For those not ourselves subjects of Pharaoh, anyway.

His freelordship seems not at all interested in Egyptian Exceptionalism, his own preferred sweet Dulcinea bein’ rather "Turkey Exceptionalism," so to call it. His freelordship winds up wonderin’, in effect, why *all* Natives cannot be more like ataturkeys. At the moment, I am not sure _M. le Baron_ would be all that happy if he got his druthers. His freelordship cloudily perceives the problem, I think, when he scribbles "Of course, the army-in-control approach requires some demagoguery . . . ."

Now this ‘demagogy’ of M. de Roubine I take to be mostly a mere verbal alias for what a recurrer-to-firsts would call _impia fraus_ and I myself am unworthily tempted to call ‘Foxcuckoldry’ The violence pros of Neoturkey, his freelordship assumes, are compelled to talk a lot of rot that they do not actually mean. If they did not, the "Turkey Street" would soon rise against them and install a different crew of gobblers who *do* take the rot in question seriously.
His freelordship’s ruminations are, as I said at the outset, of interest because one does not often encounter Zhabotinskiyians barkin’ like this in places where they might be overheard. They are not of any interest from the destructive-creationist angle, however, bein’ half as old as the Neoseemighty hills. Once Guide of All Progressive Revisionism figured out that there is only one language that Natives can be safely counted on to understand, the Roubinite neo-insight was dialectically [2] inevitable.

Just for fun, let us set out the neonegation of the negation fair and square and Hegel-fashion:

(A) Natives only understand ¡FORCE! [V. Ye. Zhabotinskiy] (B) Some Natives don’t even understand that [common notoriety] (C) Fortunately, there exists a class of Natives that specialize in ¡FORCE! and can therefore be talked to. [B. X. Rubin _et al._, includin’ Q. E. Demonstrandum]

E. T. Al is Legion, to be sure, but his freelordship is as entitled to his share of the pot as anybooby else.

A pity his freelordship does not discuss what to DO with his pot now that he has won it. We do not even hear any (express) words to the effect that it is the plain duty of all Zhabotinskiydom to support the good Native colonels an’ generals in their eternal stuggle against Turkey Street.

His freelordship also did not *expressly* say ‘eternal’, but I ask you, Dr. Bones, ¿Aren’t you pretty sure that that is what his freelordship has in mind?"

Meanwhile, if I were a Native violence pro, I would be a little uncertain what to make of his freelordship’s gracious endorsement, seeing that it comes without a User Manual. I mean, it must feel nice to learn that _M. le baron de Roubine_ is one’s side one thousand an’ eleven percent (1109.037%), but even nicer would be some advice about how to make sure that one’s own shall be the winnin’ side. Not only does that freelordly insinuation of ‘eternal’ emanate a distinctly dismal pænumbra over the whole _m'gillâ_, there are not any *concrete* suggestions for stayin’ empowered through, say, sunset next Thursday afternoon.

Colonel Zimmî might cheer up a litle, though, if he notices that there may soon be a sequel in store:

At any rate, this dimension must be taken into account. We probably won’t find out more until 2013, when — if all goes as planned — Tunisia and Egypt will elect civilian presidents.

Not Thursday afternoon, perhaps, but ’tis not the _Kalendæ Neohebraïcæ_ either.

I guess the Tank Thinkers figure Zimmî and the b'hoys in uniform can always overthrow President Streetarab if they must using the tanks (and, for that matter, the thoughts) they are already in possession of, and then hold on for six months or so before urgently requiring intellectual reinforcements from Freedame GLORIA . Or less spiritual succour from her effulgent freeladyship’s Stepuncle Sam.

Bomby days.
--JHM


___
[1] For purposes of this discussion, we can prescind from taking notice of that Supernatural Mastery (® & © & ™) with which Team Zhabotinskiy has allegedly been imbued. As often happens with ideoproducts of that class, one can never catch the prefix part at work so clearly as to be entirely unmistakable. In all the ninety-five (95) solar years since Mr. Balfour of Airstrip One first swindled the Judæostatists, nothing has come to pass in the Neolevant that cannot be explained by the invocation of either fraud or ¡FORCE!. Possibly none of these explanations are really whight, possibly ‘Super-’ has been at work on the sly. The political analyst gains nothing analytically useful by so supposing, however.

(( And, to digress briefly, it at least *appears* as if the Dogmatic Mythologist acquires yet another professional perplexity, in that ‘Super-’ has achieved no better results than have the gruesome twosome of ‘F’ words. To be sure, the D.M. gentry can easily win that tie (an’ any other) to their own satisfaction by supposin’ a Supersuccess to lurk in the bosom of the existin’ Neolevantine correlation of farces, a sublime Hyperphænomenon which, exactly like the Supercauses that have produced it, is invisible to those of impure heart. ))

==

[2] The Beast of Berlin was not *always* wrong, Dr. Bones. And least of all about non-Anglophones.

=

[3] "A check or fighter squadron or two would also be not unwelcome. WWNN. As ever, Zim."