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Why You Are Crazy – The David Irving Cartoon Court.

By on Feb 21, 2006 in Media, Politics | 2 comments

Okay, just for starters – this is a clear example of why you are crazy. So, British Historian David Irving gets sentenced to 3 years of jail for (let’s see if we can make this sound like…child rape…) ‘Holocaust Denial’ – yes. This is just plainly confusing. Let’s go over this bit by bit… If you deny the existence of God, nobody really seems to mind – they call you an atheist, and really – it’s not the kind of thing that’ll get you on TV, for instance – unless you’re a publicity seeking theocracy-inhabiting pseudo-intellectual who thinks religious issues are something you make a career out of… If you deny the existence of say, the Sun – well, people will just look at you kind of funny, and maybe, with any luck – you can turn your perception of the situation into a sci-fi novel, or...

Another Sane Voice About The Cartoon Mess…

By on Feb 19, 2006 in Media, Politics | 0 comments

The cartoons: Actually, we know what this is about – Editorials & Commentary – International Herald Tribune Yup.

These cartoons don’t defend free speech, they threaten it – Sunday Times – Times Online

By on Feb 5, 2006 in Media, Politics | 1 comment

These cartoons don’t defend free speech, they threaten it – Sunday Times – Times Online: Read it. I haven’t had the time nor the inclination to write about this – but this is the closest to a sane viewpoint you’re likely to read.

God, I love Harper’s Magazine…

By on Mar 13, 2002 in Media, Politics | 0 comments

If you haven’t been there, it’s about time. You can find them at Harper’s Magazine, and if you haven’t been, well…go. Bookmark the weekly review. Go there. Every week. Once. Read it. In this weeks reviews: “President Bush tried to get Stevie Wonder’s attention by smiling and waving at him.” Amen.

Censorship

By on Mar 12, 2002 in Media, Politics | 0 comments

My name is interdict. I bask in the radiance of custom, and I cloth myself in the cloak of tradition. I am a headache short of a full-blown migraine. I am a sword’s sheath, although sometimes others might look at me and see only a prophylactic. I call myself inoculation, but they call me spermicidal. Some rise to my defense; the good ones, those who understand piety, and perhaps even, those who have been led to identification with despair. It is I that comes across the dangerous gnosis, and it is I who protects the meandering masses from its perils. I take upon myself the cross of decadence and lust. I am the last bastion of an endangered cleanliness, one worthy only of the very best detergent advertisements. I am unchanging and unyielding. Like the last remaining hexagram of an I-King destroyed, I am a token of that which has yielded. Yielded, and yielded once again – a...

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