Book Burners Afraid of Matches

 

The Class of 2015: Bill Whittle

Boom!

That says it all!

Top Gear Gets Black Flagged

One of the rarest things on NEO today: a post on the entertainment industry. I don’t know if any of you watch Top Gear, UK but it has rather blown up. Essentially the Beeb has allowed political correctness to trump making money. And those that made it money (until they got fired) are talking to a capitalistic American firm, instead of the wanna be British monopoly. Some lessons that should be (but likely won’t be) learned there

Some say that Jeremy Clarkson got into a confrontation with a producer (some say because hot food wasn’t provided one night), in any case it couldn’t have been all that serious, since said producer took himself to hospital.

In any case the Beeb decided to fire Clarkson, the lead presenter of what has become number one TV show in the world. Like all decisions that has consequences.

My understanding is that James May and Richard Hammond have both decided not to continue without Clarkson. In addition Executive Producer Andy Wilman has resigned from the BBC.

Clarkson and Wilman rescued the show back around the turn of the century, when it was in danger of being cancelled, and redesigned it.

If you’re a fan (as I am) you know that the show is marginally about cars, mostly it is a comedy featuring three British Blokes, and is often screamingly funny. For an American with our over-regulated automotive market, it is fun to see all the really neat stuff that is available in the UK that we can’t buy, as well.

But the political correctness of the Beeb seems to have killed it. I’m sure they’ll try to recreate it but that Ferrari has left the paddock, so to speak.

There are rumors swirling about that Clarkson, and the other three as well, are talking with Netflix about, of all things, a car show. I’d say it would be very wise of Netflix to be quite generous with them! :)

Jeremy Clarkson Preparing New Show With Netflix? – UlstermanBooks.com.

Here, have a clip and a Sunday laugh.

A Triptych of England and the English

Procession_of_Characters_from_Shakespeare's_Plays_-_Google_Art_ProjectThis royal throne of kings,this scepter’d isle, This earth of majesty,this seat of Mars, This other Eden, Demi-paradise, This fortress, built by Nature for herself, Against infection,and the hand of war; This happy breed of men, this little world, This precious stone set in the silver sea, Which serves it in the office of a wall, Or as a moat defensive to a house, Against the envy of less happier lands; This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England..

Seems a good way to start since we mark three things today, a triptych, if you will. In 1564 William Shakespeare was born in Stratford-on-Avon, and 52 years later on this date he died there, as well. In between he became the greatest author to ever write in the English tongue, and simply perhaps the best, ever.

A man whose works we have read, and honored in all our generations, and whose phrases like the one above, continue to grace our everyday tongue. There’s little more for me to say, except that it would be a good day to reread some of your favorites.

st-george (1)The third pane of our triptych today is that it is St. George’s day, and so as we celebrate the greatest author in English, we also celebrate the patron Saint of England herself.

Wikipedia tells us:

St George was born sometime around the year 280 in what is now Turkey. He was a soldier and rose up through the ranks of the Roman army, eventually becoming a personal guard to the Emperor Diocletian. He was executed for being a Christian on April 23, 303, and is buried in the town of Lod in Israel.

St George is most widely known for slaying a dragon. According to legend, the only well in the town of Silene was guarded by a dragon. In order to get water, the inhabitants of the town had to offer a human sacrifice every day to the dragon. The person to be sacrificed was chosen by lots.

On the day that St George was visiting, a princess had been selected to be sacrificed. However, he killed the dragon, saved the princess and gave the people of Silene access to water. In gratitude, they converted to Christianity. It is thought that the dragon represents a certain type of pagan belief that included the sacrifice of human beings.

St George is the patron saint of a number of places, such as Bulgaria, England, Ethiopia, Georgia, Greece, Portugal and Russia. He is also remembered in some regional holidays, such as in the province ofNewfoundland and Labrador in Canada and among the Gorani people who live in a mountainous area in the Balkans and were converted to Islam many centuries ago, but still observe St George’s Day. Around the world, a number of days are devoted to St George, including April 23 and dates in November and December of the Gregorian calendar.

Sir Winston Churchill said:

There is a forgotten -nay almost forbidden word,
. . . . a word which means more to me than any other. . . .
That word is
“ENGLAND”

This morning in an article on the Watchtower, I said this:

Seems to me he wasn’t far wrong. We hear much of Great Britain, Scotland, Wales, and Ireland, and even of the former Empires: America, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, Singapore, and even India, but we hear little of the source of the glory: England. For without the driving force of English ideas, our world would simply not exist.

The Late Rt Hon Enoch Powell MBE gave the following speech to a dinner of The Royal Society of St George, in London, on St George’s Day, April 23rd 1961

There was a saying, not heard today so often as formerly . .

What do they know of England who only England know?”

It is a saying which dates. It has a period aroma, like Kipling’s “Recessional” or the state rooms at Osborne. That phase is ended, so plainly ended, that even the generation born at its zenith, for whom the realisation is the hardest, no longer deceive themselves as to the fact. That power and that glory have vanished, as surely, if not as tracelessly, as the imperial fleet from the waters of Spithead.

And yet England is not as Nineveh and Tyre, nor as Rome, nor as Spain. Herodotus relates how the Athenians, returning to their city after it had been sacked and burnt by Xerxes and the Persian army, were astonished to find, alive and flourishing in the blackened ruins, the sacred olive tree, the native symbol of their country.

So we today, at the heart of a vanished empire, amid the fragments of demolished glory, seem to find, like one of her own oak trees, standing and growing, the sap still rising from her ancient roots to meet the spring, England herself.

 

Perhaps, after all, we know most of England “who only England know”. 

So the continuity of her existence was unbroken when the looser connections which had linked her with distant continents and strange races fell away. Thus our generation is one which comes home again from years of distant wandering. We discover affinities with earlier generations of English who felt no country but this to be their own. We discover affinities with earlier generations of English who felt there was this deep this providential difference between our empire and those others, that the nationhood of the mother country remained unaltered through it all, almost unconscious of the strange fantastic structure built around her – in modern parlance “uninvolved”.

Backward travels our gaze, beyond the grenadiers and the philosophers of the 18th century, beyond the pikemen and the preachers of the 17th, back through the brash adventurous days of the first Elizabeth and the hard materialism of the Tudors and there at last we find them, or seem to find them, in many a village church, beneath the tall tracery of a perpendicular East window and the coffered ceiling of the chantry chapel.

From brass and stone, from line and effigy, their eyes look out at us, and we gaze into them, as if we would win some answer from their silence.”Tell us what it is that binds us together; show us the clue that leads through a thousand years; whisper to us the secret of this charmed life of England, that we in our time may know how to hold it fast.

“What would they say”?

They would speak to us in our own English tongue, the tongue made for telling truth in, tuned already to songs that haunt the hearer like the sadness of spring. They would tell us of that marvellous land, so sweetly mixed of opposites in climate that all the seasons of the year appear there in their greatest perfection; of the fields amid which they built their halls, their cottages, their churches, and where the same blackthorn showered its petals upon them as upon us; they would tell us, surely of the rivers the hills and of the island coasts of England.

One thing above all they assuredly would not forget; Lancastrian or Yorkist, squire or lord, priest or layman; they would point to the kingship of England, and its emblems everywhere visible.

They would tell us too of a palace near the great city which the Romans built at a ford of the River Thames, to which men resorted out of all England to speak on behalf of their fellows, a thing called ‘Parliament'; and from that hall went out their fellows with fur trimmed gowns and strange caps on their heads, to judge the same judgments, and dispense the same justice, to all the people of England.

Symbol, yet source of power; person of flesh and blood, yet incarnation of an idea; the kingship would have seemed to them, as it seems to us, to express the qualities that are peculiarly England’s: the unity of England, effortless and unconstrained, which accepts the unlimited supremacy of Crown in Parliament so naturally as not to be aware of it; the homogeneity of England, so profound and embracing that the counties and the regions make it a hobby to discover their differences and assert their peculiarities; the continuity of England, which has brought this unity and this homogeneity about by the slow alchemy of centuries.

For the unbroken life of the English nation over a thousand years and more is a phenomenon unique in history, the product of a specific set of circumstances like those which in biology are supposed to start by chance a new line of evolution. Institutions which elsewhere are recent and artificial creations appear in England almost as works of nature, spontaneous and unquestioned.

From this continuous life of a united people in its island home spring, as from the soil of England, all that is peculiar in the gifts and the achievements of the English nation. All its impact on the outer world in earlier colonies, in the later Pax Britannica, in government and lawgiving, in commerce and in thought has flowed from impulses generated here. And this continuing life of England is symbolised and expressed, as by nothing else, by the English kingship. English it is, for all the leeks and thistles grafted upon it here and elsewhere. The stock that received all these grafts is English, the sap that rises through it to the extremities rises from roots in English earth, the earth of England’s history.

 

We in our day ought well to guard, as highly to honour, the parent stem of England, and its royal talisman; for we know not what branches yet that wonderful tree will have the power to put forth.The danger is not always violence and force; them we have withstood before and can again.The peril can also be indifference and humbug, which might squander the accumulated wealth of tradition and devalue our sacred symbolism to achieve some cheap compromise or some evanescent purpose.

Good advice there for all of us who are members of ancient and honorable countries.

69387_1It’s a low key day in England, much like the 4th of July celebrations I remember in small town America, although with Morris dancing. so enjoy. Sadly, it’s no longer a holiday tough, although some are trying to rectify that.

Happy St. George’s day to the cousins

Boys Don’t Cry?

This is my post from this morning at the Watchtower. As you know, I rarely crosspost between the sites, the mission is different, as is the readership. But this one, I think, transcends the differences, and has lessons for us on both sites. You’ll find a link in the post to an article of Jessica’s which I urge you to follow, as I do with the links she provided.

I think you will find here, a measure of what we, as a society lose, when we perceive that our forebears were different and perhaps cold. They were not, they just had different priorities, and I think more valid ones.

On the post entitled The War of Ideas (6) Thoughtful Traditionalism, Nicholas commented that

This also raises an issue about the health of the church and society in general, which is the difference in outlook between the generations which needs to be healthily discussed with perhaps confession on both sides. “Boys don’t cry” is a Victorian fallacy that people my age have rejected – but it grieves us to be at variance with our fathers. Who’s advocating for our heartache?

To which I replied with this

Be careful, Nick. Yes, we were taught that but there was a lot more to it than “Boys don’t cry’. What it really was, was a lesson in self discipline. What it really said was, “Boys (actually, men) don’t cry-in public because they have work to do.” They felt things just as you do.

In my family, you rarely get more than a handshake-the first time I ever hugged my brother in law was about 2 years ago at my sister’s funeral, and I’m in my sixties. I never thought he didn’t feel things, he’s buried one daughter, and his parents and all those things but, his duty was to keep the family going, and he did..

Kipling may be the best Victorian example we have, read his “My boy, Jack” or even better the video of it. He was no different from you (or I) he just did his duty first, and grieved later and privately. That is the Northern European ethos, and it always has been, It’s also why (in good measure) our society is less corrupt than others, we keep our eye on the ball.

My dad’s line was illustrative. when I’d get the normal bangs and bruises of an active little boy, and whine about it, dad would always comment, “I didn’t feel a thing”. Now, I don’t notice even when I spring a leak, if I’m doing something, there’s time for that later.

But the other example I use is that when I was about sixteen, we were painting a car, and the thinner splashed into my eye. Dad happened to look at me (I don’t remember that I said anything, but I couldn’t open my eye. Mom was watering the flower bed and dad yelled at her (and this is nearly the only time I heard him raise his voice) for her to bring the hose over. She was completely unaware and said effectively, “What?”

Dad’s answer for the only time I ever heard him say it was, “Bring that f***ing hose here!” I found out later that no one had heard him use that word since about 1935 but, it mattered right then.

One does what is necessary to accomplish the mission, that’s what it’s all about, it’s not about our feelings.

But let’s expand a bit on that. Nobody that I know of is advocating for anybody’s heartache, we all have that, and we have in all our generations. In fact, I’d guess that we have less cause for it than any generation before us, whichever generation we are a member of. But we’re always going have some. Essentially, that’s life.

There’s nothing particularly Victorian about it either. We tend to think so because that is the literature that we read. But if you read Beowulf, or the Icelandic Sagas, or indeed the Bible, you’ll find the same themes, it comes down to growing into manhood. It’s not easy, in fact, it’s very difficult, and how well a society does it, is one of the measures of that society’s viability.

The difference with the Victorians was that they openly talked about duty, more than most societies that came before them. A good example is this.

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:.
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build’em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

And the great thing about the Victorians was that they not only ‘talked the talk’ (very well), they ‘walked the walk’ as well. I mentioned this in my comment quoted above. Jessica introduced it to us and explained its background.

We’d do well, I think to quit denigrating them and attempt to live up to their example.

American Ingenuity and Winning Friends, Redux

"No one cares about us, and no one understands exactly what happened, because we are Yazidis. Everyone wants to kill us. Where should we go? I don't have a dream because I don't have a life. That's all I have to say." I think we can do much better Photo courtesy of "Spirit of America"

“No one cares about us, and no one understands exactly what happened, because we are Yazidis. Everyone wants to kill us. Where should we go? I don’t have a dream because I don’t have a life. That’s all I have to say.”
I think we can do much better
Photo courtesy of “Spirit of America”

[OK, I posted this the other day, and with all he nonsense, I’m not sure anybody actually read it, so here its again. i think it a very worthwhile endeavor. Neo]

A while back, Jessica wrote a post entitled We’re Americans, We Act, As always with her articles, it is excellent. it deals with the problems last summer in northern Iraq, and don’t kid yourself, those problems are still there, we have perhaps helped hold the ring, but it ain’t all sweetness and light. Much remains to do.

You’ve all heard me complain about elephantine American/multinational big business and how the little guys can run them into the ground six days a week and twice on Sunday as well, given a level playing field. Nothing has changed on that front either.

And we all know that a S&P 50 firm is agility itself compared with the US Government, even that part that works fairly well, which would be the US Military.

But all problems have solutions, if we have the vision to see them but, that’s the hard part: seeing them. Well actually it’s not, our young men and women in the military, with their butts in the weeds are as adept as anyone in the history of the world at “improvising, adapting, and overcoming”, that’s one of the main reason our military is justly feared by our enemies.

But they are too often stymied by the elephantine bureaucracy of the Pentagon, and even so, some of the things that Captain Lunchbucket thinks would help him get along with his new neighbors are not things that the taxpayers should be buying but, neither should the Captain’s wife, really. Talk about a nightmare, how about a Pentagon program to supply 50 softball bats to a village in Afghanistan? It would likely be cheaper to airlift them to Colorado and give them a lifetime income.

But the American soldier has always been America’s best ambassador, everywhere he goes, his basic goodness reflects well on us, and people are drawn to him. In fact, when I was young I knew many men who flew in World War Two in 8th and 9th US Army Air Forces, the two based in England. they were proud of what they had done in the war. But the ones who had stayed in were even prouder of what they had done in 1948. In something called Operation Vittles, where we (and the British) completely supplied the city of Berlin during the blockade. That was a mission a man could really be proud of. But even in that one, the story we all remember is the pilot who bought candy out of his own pocket and airdropped it to the kids watching the planes land. Improvise, Adapt, and Overcome, indeed.

So how do we harness American entrepreneurial skills to the young soldiers’ needs in the field? We know we can’t do it with a Pentagon program, too slow, too expensive and other reasons as well.

Here’s one way that has worked for 13 years. From the Hoover Institution and the Wall Street Journal learn about Spirit of America and its founder Jim Hake.

American ingenuity: winning friends and influencing people since 1776 (at least).

Here’s the link to Spirit of America

American Ingenuity and Winning Friends

"No one cares about us, and no one understands exactly what happened, because we are Yazidis. Everyone wants to kill us. Where should we go? I don't have a dream because I don't have a life. That's all I have to say." I think we can do much better Photo courtesy of "Spirit of America"

“No one cares about us, and no one understands exactly what happened, because we are Yazidis. Everyone wants to kill us. Where should we go? I don’t have a dream because I don’t have a life. That’s all I have to say.”
I think we can do much better
Photo courtesy of “Spirit of America”

A while back, Jessica wrote a post entitled We’re Americans, We Act, As always with her articles, it is excellent. it deals with the problems last summer in northern Iraq, and don’t kid yourself, those problems are still there, we have perhaps helped hold the ring, but it ain’t all sweetness and light. Much remains to do.

You’ve all heard me complain about elephantine American/multinational big business and how the little guys can run them into the ground six days a week and twice on Sunday as well, given a level playing field. Nothing has changed on that front either.

And we all know that a S&P 50 firm is agility itself compared with the US Government, even that part that works fairly well, which would be the US Military.

But all problems have solutions, if we have the vision to see them but, that’s the hard part: seeing them. Well actually it’s not, our young men and women in the military, with their butts in the weeds are as adept as anyone in the history of the world at “improvising, adapting, and overcoming”, that’s one of the main reason our military is justly feared by our enemies.

But they are too often stymied by the elephantine bureaucracy of the Pentagon, and even so, some of the things that Captain Lunchbucket thinks would help him get along with his new neighbors are not things that the taxpayers should be buying but, neither should the Captain’s wife, really. Talk about a nightmare, how about a Pentagon program to supply 50 softball bats to a village in Afghanistan? It would likely be cheaper to airlift them to Colorado and give them a lifetime income.

But the American soldier has always been America’s best ambassador, everywhere he goes, his basic goodness reflects well on us, and people are drawn to him. In fact, when I was young I knew many men who flew in World War Two in 8th and 9th US Army Air Forces, the two based in England. they were proud of what they had done in the war. But the ones who had stayed in were even prouder of what they had done in 1948. In something called Operation Vittles, where we (and the British) completely supplied the city of Berlin during the blockade. That was a mission a man could really be proud of. But even in that one, the story we all remember is the pilot who bought candy out of his own pocket and airdropped it to the kids watching the planes land. Improvise, Adapt, and Overcome, indeed.

So how do we harness American entrepreneurial skills to the young soldiers’ needs in the field? We know we can’t do it with a Pentagon program, too slow, too expensive and other reasons as well.

Here’s one way that has worked for 13 years. From the Hoover Institution and the Wall Street Journal learn about Spirit of America and its founder Jim Hake.

American ingenuity: winning friends and influencing people since 1776 (at least).

Here’s the link to Spirit of America

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