I swear, I’m going to rename this blog “Done, but with errors on page.” Seems I can’t actually finish a single fucking post without some fuck-stupid grammatical error creeping in. Will try to sweep some of these out. Apologies to those hooked up to Class Worrier’s syndication thingy, who will over the next couple of days be receiving updates that contain nothing new of any merit.
When you’ve had it up to your eyeballs with the pissfights that routinely mop up spare time on the Left, it’s always fun to be reminded that the Right aren’t immune to the occasional spat.
The background is that Narendra Modi, Chief Minister of Gujarat in 2002 when he orchestrated a pogrom in which more than 2000 Muslims were killed, hundreds of women and young girls raped, and over 200,000 rendered homeless, was planning a trip to the US. He has never been held to account for his part in these crimes. No one has. Instead, he has been lionised as a hero of Hindu nationalism and of his Bharti Janata Party. You can find out more about the background at the splendid Coalition against Genocide site here.
Paul Wolfowitz is the U.S. nominee to head the World Bank, replacing ‘Jim’ Wolfensohn, who retires this year. The U.S. gets to pick the head of the Bank, the Europeans pick the head of the IMF, and it’s unlikely that the U.S. will brook any criticism of its annointed candidate.
Another considered verdict from Class Worrier this week: Tony Blair’s Commission for Africa is a bunch of wank.
Actually, it’s a great deal worse. It’s precisely the kind of unctious toss that we’ve expected to spurt from Labour’s glands. And, now that they’ve released this sticky little report, we can only hope that Blair will roll over, fart, and go to sleep. Not likely that he will though. More than anything, the Commission for Africa looks like it’s a manifesto for yet more fiddling about with Africa, once again in the name of ‘development’. Consider: Continue reading “Commission for Africa: A Verdict”
Continuing a couple of themes from the previous post, I went to a fine talk today by the splendid David Moore. David bounced off the thoughts of E.M.Forster, from whose excellent What I believe the title of this post is taken, and which is well worth a read if you’ve not come across it. It’s the most eloquently qualified defence of democracy I’ve come across, smarter than it is objectionable.
It’sYesterday was [ahem], international women’s day and, for good reasons, I was at the New Yorker’s Cartoon Bank searching for “tofu“. Give it a go, and you’ll not be unhappy. But search for “feminism” and you’re going to end up annoyed. Few of the results are by women (an endemic problem) and the ones that the New Yorker has are neither particularly feminist, nor – with perhaps this exception – particularly funny. Two years ago, there was an International Feminist Cartoon Exhibition and some fine drawing hit the net. Not this year which, judging by the quality of 2003’s entries, is a great shame. It’s not like Ann Telnaes is the only feminist cartoonist around.
I know I began the last big post with the observation that the World Bank was to blame for my having to use Microsoft Outlook (the only mail program compatible with Google’s fab new search gizmo) only to admit, by the end of the rant, that in all likelihood the World Bank itself didn’t itself force me to switch to Microsoft. A reasonable person might suggest that I tend to see the World Bank’s invisible hand when it’s not really there. I’d advise that person to stop reading now. For the rest of you, here’s an iconographic thought experiment.
I shit you not. The US embassy in Accra decided that it was going to spend February this year celebrating Black history month in Ghana. Posters were plastered througout the city. Concerts and conferences were convened. Living historical figures, or at least people who could comment on them for money, were flown in. But for whom?