The Essayist in a precarious Situation
In my early twenties, while roaming through Europe by way of hitchhiking, I hung out for a few days in one of Rome’s many youth hostels. As the usual cheap Chianti evening soiree got into full swing, a Jewish gentleman of Eastern provenance approached me and asked for a favour. He had twinkling little eyes, an uncommonly large and bulbous nose, high blood pressure, an ample midriff and must have been about seventy five years old. I fell of course over my own feet to accommodate him. His English was atrocious, and it took me some time to understand that he was on his way to Germany and needed a letter of introduction. Or better, a document that would help him to claim indemnifications. ‘What for!’ I asked appalled, fearing immediately the worst. ‘A good question’, he conceded, and if I had any suggestions. So we sat down and cooked up a story whose details I don’t remember anymore, but would probably blush crimson if they were read to me today. Rounding it off he needed a name, since his was acoustically too cumbersome, too long and too Cyrillic in any case. As an experienced cosmopolitan I suggested Cohen, which for unclear reasons didn’t sit well with him. After some deliberations I came up with Germany’s foremost nonsense poet, and thus Mr. Morningstar was born. I hope he achieved his aims, continued to shine brilliantly, and lived happily ever after. When all was done, he patted my cheek approvingly and said: ‘Son! You are a good Nazi!’ Which left me, historically speaking, with the profound satisfaction that there must have been at least one of those in the whole wide world. (M. Colhaze To be a German, TOO April 2010)
Eppur si muove!
Galileo Galilei (1564 – 1642)
The $PLC has recently lifted a gilded hind leg and piddled against my personal lamppost. It did this in response to a fanciful little satire where I undertook—and such an exertion it was—to haul their hulking intelligence officer through a copious but strictly rhetorical heap of mud. The effort was not for naught, because, and as anticipated, the poisonous python didn’t take it kindly. Rather, she foamed at the mouth. Bombarding me and the Editor with emails, therein demanding the removal of my piece while threatening us with what the mephitic $PLC usually threatens with, she finally let fly, on their own repugnant website, a riposte with all the usual threats and accusations.
To tell you the truth, I haven’t looked at it yet. I have been told what it contains, so perhaps I never will. As a matter of fact, and as far as the $PLC is concerned, all I have ever read is their diatribes against the Editor and some rants in the same vein that try to slander men of similar distinction and integrity. Though I have surfed through the Net and know what decent people write about this ugly, reckless and utterly hypocritical anachronism in the very heart of the Deep South.
The reason for my refusal to read their squalid canards is simple. I am slightly superstitious. Most sailors are, even if they rarely admit it. It happens when you hold the wheel during a star-studded night, perhaps while ghosting along with the trade winds towards Trinidad and Tobago, and the silent and all-encompassing immensity around you reverberates deep in your soul as a mysterious sentience, the intuitive recognition of a mighty and timeless river beyond any known dimension, one that can only be felt and never put into words.
And whatever its metaphysical bequest, it also engenders a more practical posture that is in no way removed from diurnal authenticity. You may call it an alert honing of the common sense, a kind of subconscious olfactory nerve that sets all your alarm bells ringing when confronted with something spiritually hideous and harmful. Like chancing on people who feign to be saintly defenders of the oppressed but have, over a period of many years, created an aura of pure evil and immersed themselves therein.
An aura of which a whiff, like the harbinger of a contagious pestilence, reached out at me when I opened Heidi’s first email and read her earnest portent that all hell would break loose if the accursed piece of racist heresy weren’t immediately removed. Yet as it is, and to her hilarious humiliation, the Editor could not be bothered beyond a tired yawn. The same is true, on a more general line, of his vast band of co-authors, all erudite men and women who calmly and objectively state in their different ways our impregnable right to survive as a highly cultured and peaceful tribe within the global community.
Which brings me to Galileo Galilei, who muttered on his deathbed, and in clear defiance of the official ideology, that yet she moves! Meaning our magnificent planet Earth, deemed during his time the immovable centre of the Universe, and around which the latter turned dutifully once in twenty four hours.
Shortly afterwards the world could not but admit that the great astronomer had treaded perfectly safe ground with his assertions, though until then any deviation from the officially decreed dogma was fraught with mortal danger. As happened to Giordano Bruno, whose discoveries ridiculed the infantile cosmology of his day. Those in power, intent on keeping the populace ignorant if not downright dumb, just as they do today, and who loved the plain truth about as much as the Devil loves frankincense, just as they do today, instructed their local Inquisitors to get rid of the dangerous heretic in the most expedient manner possible. Whereupon, after a wretched mock trial, the henchmen sewed his blasphemous tongue into a gag, led him to a pyre and burned him alive.
Since then much water has passed under the bridges. Enlightenment came and went, followed by an enhanced scientific approach and the general improvement of matters social, material and ethical. Until, a few decades ago, the dreaded Inquisition crept unexpectedly back out of the gutter. It did this in the wake of horrendous myths —e.g., race doesn’t exist, Jewish behaviour is irrelevant to anti-Semitism, modern art is Art, etc. — invented for the sake of ethnocentric strategies and unlimited financial gain. Prodded by a gigantic media campaign, these weird constructs flourished and swelled and seeped into the outmost nooks and fissures of nearly the entire globe, thereby assuming the status of an infernal ersatz religion with all its necessary trappings, while insisting on a rigid dogmatic coercion that outlawed any attempt to query its legitimacy.
Which is the reason — and how could it be otherwise? — that this enforced regress into the Dark Ages with its massive historical and scientific flaws provoked an ever escalating chorus of critical discord. Contingent to whichever great Western democracy the deviants inhabit, inquisitorial retaliation for their rebellious comportment entails either smear campaigns a la $PLC or heavy fines and imprisonment by an increasingly shaky gang of legislators whose puppet masters are by now clearly recognized and abhorred.
Perhaps your fear in passing judgement on me is greater than mine receiving it, said Giordano Bruno on hearing his death sentence, a statement that must ring sometimes in the $PLC’s bovine auricles when it unleashes its hysterical, mendacious and downright ludicrous attempts to enforce tenets which are increasingly perceived as unsound, indefensible and injurious subterfuges.
As to the heading of this piece, and the query it implies, my answer is simple. I uphold and defend the Christian ideal and its strictly analogous manifestations in other systems of thought, particularly Buddhism, as the divinely inspired foundation of a peaceful coexistence among all human beings and the only practicable means for their eventual survival. Consequently I respect anyone of good intentions, no matter if White, Black, Brown, chequered or spotted. I have not the faintest ambition to lecture, cheat, insult, harm, displace or subjugate anybody, and categorically expect the same treatment for myself and my tribe. Meaning I’m prepared to rise in arms if it is refused for any reason whatsoever.
This is a position diametrically opposed to that of Heidi and her global myth enforcers. Because for them anyone of contrary opinion, be it with regard to politics, history, culture, race, immigration and what not, is by definition a heretic and therefore an Anti-Semite. One who must be burned, quartered, hanged, guillotined or otherwise destroyed. This policy might work for a while if the Inquisitors can rely on mountains of stolen money to push their agenda. But in the long run it is suicidal, particularly if the lies and deceptions are laid bare by independent information outlets, and the silly fabrications and inept machinations begin to collapse like a house of cards.
As they do now.
The negative fallout of this dangerous and demented ploy is manifold. Inventing and fanning inter-racial conflicts, robbing half of the global community stark naked and promoting quite openly a kind of Orwellian tyranny is increasingly perceived by most reasonable people as an assault on their purses and guaranteed liberties alike. Small wonder therefore that distrust, disgust and open enmity has been the result. Which in itself is a perfectly acceptable reaction, were it not that it affects also a multitude of decent, unobtrusive and hard-working co-tribalists who are as far removed from the machinations and fleshpots of their so-called elite as you and I. Travelling in Israel while visiting distant relatives, I have repeatedly met lawyers, businessmen and former IDF officers who are fairly concerned about the reckless exploits of the Likudniks, the Neocon Bolshies, their Wall Street minders and corrosive institutions like the $PLC or ADL. One of my acquaintances, a former kibbutznik and present university professor, has written an entire book about the dispossession of Palestinian territory and its inherent danger, but to little effect.
Concerning the individual ramifications, I believe that Heidi and her immediate associates did get a deep satisfaction from smoking out and hunting down all those presumed Anti-Semites. Yet as time went by the kick may have lost some of its lustre, because the monotone repetition and hollowness of the harangues are bound to spawn in the final analysis a sense of futility and despair. If generously inclined, I might say with Plato that the reason why men (and women) forfeit felicity is that they mistake apparent good for real. But that tag won’t fit the $PLC, whose only aim under all the highfalutin blather is the promotion of its own secret schedule. One which, as its officers know perfectly well, is plain evil where you and I are concerned.
Recently I’ve read about a poll that has been conducted across a fairly large number of countries, to the effect that people were asked which quality they cherished most in a human being. I believe there were many choices, perhaps from modesty to greatness, from innocence to dynamism, from dexterity to archness, from artistic creativity to the knack of making millions, and so on. After the votes were counted, and to the surprise of everyone involved, it was goodness that had won the day. Which is just one more proof that this particular attribute, together with its many tributaries, constitutes the most valuable and appreciated cornerstone of any decent society.
This is how Aldous Huxley phrased it, and I’m hard put to think of a better definition.
Goodness, immanent in its potentialities, transcendent as a realized ideal, conceivable in its perfections, but also susceptible as being realized in practise, of being embodied at least partially in any situation in which we may find ourselves.
And goodness, last not least, as a key to Paradise! The one that Heidi has lost long ago somewhere on the road without even noticing it …