Counago & Spaves

Finished the new David Sedaris book yesterday, Clothe Your Family in Corduroy and Denim. Very entertaining. I was a bit disppointed to find that I'd read three or four of the pieces in the New Yorker, but it's still an amusing book. Amusing rather than laugh-out-loud funny, although there is one story, "The Blood Test," that had me in tears on the train. In it, he recalls the time he spent working as a housecleaner and an episode in which he is mistaken for the provider of erotic housecleaning services. I won't spoil it by giving a graphic description - you should read the original.

Now reading Joe Simpson's Touching the Void, a thin book I hope to have read before heading off on holidays. I'm taking a pile of books with me, so I'll provide an update when I get back.

From today's Guardian.

"The Momart warehouse fire? It may not be art, but I know what I like."

Dietmar Küchemann
London

Happy birthday, Christopher Lee, 82 today.

I'll never go to the circus again.

From another item in Atlantic Monthly, by Dieter Wulf, comes this titbit of historical information that I've never read about before:

"The Nazis' interest in suicide bombing was no secret. In 1943 Heinrich Himmler, the leader of Hitler's SS, had enthusiastically endorsed a plan to sink Allied ships with suicide air attacks. Hitler opposed the idea at the time, but in 1944, with the war going badly, he agreed to the formation of special squadrons of suicide bombers. A hundred and four volunteers were selected as pilots of one squadron; each signed a statement saying, "I understand that I will die at the end of my mission." Wearing all their military decorations, and listening to music and women's voices on their headphones, sixteen of these pilots flew suicide missions on April 16 and 17, 1945, in a desperate effort to defend Berlin from the advancing Red Army."

Now we know where Al Qaeda get their ideas from. And I don't mean from Atlantic Monthly.

An article by Matthew Quirk from The Atlantic Monthly for May 2004.

In the wake of "Nipplegate" -- the infamous Super Bowl halftime show in which Janet Jackson's breast was exposed -- the Federal Communications Commission has very pushily pursued a crusade against broadcast indecency. But behind the scenes the FCC has been on the lookout all along. The task of policing the airwaves lies with its Enforcement Bureau, created in 1999 to centralize investigations of "obscenity" and "indecency." To fine a broadcaster, the FCC must complete an "indecency analysis" that considers whether material is explicit; whether it is repeated or dwelled on at length; and whether it is pandering, titillating, or shocking.

Here are the cases that, according to published documents, resulted in the ten largest fines the FCC has levied since 1999.

1: Bubba the Love Sponge and Clear Channel Communications, for segments featuring conversations about "oral sex, penises, testicles, masturbation, intercourse, orgasms, and breasts." The commission singled out as "calculated and callous" a segment featuring impersonations of the cartoon characters George Jetson, Fat Albert, Alvin the Chipmunk, and Scooby-Doo and Shaggy. Clear Channel was fined for twenty-six incidents and four technical violations, and threatened with license revocation. The Love Sponge was fired. Total fine: $755,000.

2. Opie & Anthony, WNEW of New York, and Infinity Broadcasting, for a contest that awarded points for performing sex acts in public places. "Spotters" trailed couples to New.York City locations (Saint Patrick's Cathedral, a zoo, FAO Schwarz), tabulated scores, and provided play-by-play description. The station was cited for thirteen indecency violations and threatened with the loss of its license. Total fine: $357,500.

3. Elliot in the Morning, WWDC of Washington, D.C., and AMFM Radio Licenses. To win a competition to cage-dance at a Kid Rock concert, two sixteen-year-old girls discussed sex acts in the hallways, stairwells, and closets of Bishop Denis J. O'Connell High School. Two indecency violations. Total fine: $55,000.

4. Mancow's Morning Madhouse, WKQX of Chicago, and Emmis Radio License, for skits in which women -- singly or gathered in Mancow's "lava lamp love lounge" -- described and participated in sexual activities. Six incidents. Total fine: $42,000.

5 KRON 4 Morning News, KRON-TV of San Francisco, and Young Broadcasting. Cast members from the Puppetry of the Penis show "appeared in capes but were otherwise naked." One exposed himself while performing "genital origami" -- manipulating his genitalia to resemble "objects, architecture, and people, including the Eiffel Tower and a baby kangaroo. Total fine: $27,500.

6. The Deminski & Doyle Show, WKRK of Detroit, and Infinity Broadcasting. Hosts asked callers to describe "explicit and graphic" sexual practices. Total fine: $27,500.

7. Edmund Dinis and WJFD of New Bedford, Massachusetts. Callers to a Spanish language program told dirty jokes about anal and oral sex, excretory activities, sexual intercourse with a child present, and Fidel Castro. Total fine: $22,400.

(Sex with Castro? Urrgh. J.G.)

8. Opie & Anthony, WNEW, and Infinity Broadcasting, for incidents including a graphic song about a father's having oral sex with his daughter. Total fine: $21,000.

9. No te Duermas, WKAQ of Puerto Rico, and Telemundo, for one skit featuring a couple apparently engaged in oral sex, and another in which a woman lectures about sex toys. The FCC deemed the latter "not a clinical discussion" based on the way "she is carried off by two male models" at the segment's end. Total fine: $21,000.

10. El vacilon de la Manana, WCOM of Puerto Rico, and WLDI, Inc., for strong sexual innuendo in the morning weather report, among other things. Total fine: $21,000.

What an appalling piece of cod history his book is. I recommend it only to masochists and insomniacs.

Imagine if Michael Ignatieff wrote a book about loneliness drawing on 5,000 years of obscure Gnostic texts. That's what An Intimate History of Humanity is like. Anecdotal, unscientific, speculative. I wouldn't mind if the anecdotes were meaningful, but in the few days since I put it down I've managed to read David Sedaris's Me Talk Pretty One Day, which is much more superficial and arch but which still manages to say something about human relationships that Zeldin, for all his didacticism, can't even approximate.

My own fault for seeing someone on the train reading the Zeldin book and imagining I was missing something. I should have asked him if it was any good.

Anyway, I bought and began the new David Sedaris book over the weekend, Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim. I dare say I'll have it read by Wednesday. It's lightweight stuff but he writes smooth, well judged prose and manages to be witty too.

Despite losing my Nathaniel Philbrick book on the train recently, I can report a second consecutive good read, the Andrew Hussey book about Guy Debord and the Situationists, The Game of War. Hussey doesn't pull any punches; it's a warts and all book that still gives Debord credit for his originality. It's clear from the book, though, how jealously Debord guarded his ideas and kept control over Situationsim, the same way Breton did over Surrealism, and how this stifled what could have been an attractive revolutionary movement. Raoul Vaneigem comes out of the book most favourably, and it seems he's still around and writing. Also, I hadn't realized how much Debord had been influenced by the Socialisme ou Barbarie group and my personal hero, Cornelius Castoriadis. Debord was a member of the group for a while but left for 'obscure' reasons. Probably because he was a bit of a twat.

Anyway, reading this book made me want to go back and re-read The Society of the Spectacle and the Revolution of Everyday Life. That's how good it is!

Next book: An Intimate History of Humanity, by Theodore Zeldin. I'm on chapter 7; so far so average. It's the nearest I've come to 'popular sociology' other than de Botton's Status Anxiety. I'll reserve judgement (Oooh! get him!).

On the children's best-seller lists for months in the States, written by William Kotzwinkle, who also wrote E.T. and the excellent The Bear Went over the Mountain. Walter is now available as a toy that farts when you squeeze him.

From Jet magazine of April 19, African-American magazine for the hard of thinking.

Reggae singer Rita Marley, widow of international reggae legend Bob Marley, told a newspaper in Britain that her famous husband once raped her. While promoting her upcoming memoir, No Woman, No Cry, Rita told Britain's Daily Mirror that she once denied her husband sex because she was fed up with his many years of infidelity. “Bob wouldn't take no for an answer,” she told the newspaper of that day in 1973. “He said to me, ‘No, you're my wife and you're supposed to.’ So he forced himself on me, and I call that rape. Afterwards I felt so terrible. I screamed at him, ‘I hate you. I hate you!’”

She said that in spite of her husband's years of cheating with women who bore many of his children, she still reveres him. “Just because he did these things and cheated on me doesn't mean he was a bad husband,” she said. “He always provided for me, always gave me anything I wanted.” Bob Marley died of cancer in 1981 at the age of 36. Rita was by his side, holding him in her arms, when he made his transition.

Today, now a singer in her own right, Rita takes care of the Bob Marley Foundation in Jamaica. She also runs her own charity that works with poor children in Ghana, West Africa.

Made his transition? Ah yes; from locally recognized Reggae musician to best-selling international pop icon.

Not very likely in this case. Jesus Gil has joined the McWhirters and Denis Thatcher. At least living in Marbella will have helped him acclimatise to the heat of his new home.

What a bumper crop we're getting this year - and not even a cold winter!

It's time we opened a book on these bastards. I fancy Thatcher, Reagan, Jean Paul II, Cheney, and . . . as a wild card, Jim Davidson. Okay, so it's wishful thinking, but there's no harm in dreaming is there?

The Watersmeet Township School in Michigan has suddenly acquired cult status in the States as a result of a series of ESPN ads. The school, with 77 students, has a sports team called the Nimrods: Nimrod was a hunter in Genesis, but his name is also used as a colloquial equivalent to nerd or dork. Anyway, these ads have spurred a lot of interest in their school sweatshirts, found here. This is the trendiest, hip, street-cool gear going. It's only a matter of time before Boondocks characters are wearing them.

David Bowie's bonds have been downgraded to just above 'junk.' Mmm. Maybe someone listened to his records.

An amusing article from Sekai magazine of Tokyo, which I encountered in the now-defunct World Press Review. A new word entered my vocabulary today: Goth-Loli, or Loligoth, depending on your preference, a combination of Goth and Lolita sensibilities. I'm sure they're very earnest, but who could seriously follow a band called Mook?

This is no joke. Their names are Stretch, Shaft, and Dick. And yes, the black condom is called Shaft.

A tired and emotional David Cassidy insults the Welsh.

Battle Royale is on Channel 4 tonight at 11.00. Set your video recorder.

from Monday's Guardian, a tribute to my beloved A34.

I was reading my first decent book for months, Nathaniel Philbrick's In the Heart of the Sea, and what did I do? Left the bloody thing on the train going home last night. I'd read right through to the last chapter and was going to finish it off on the trip in this morning, then realized I'd stuck it down the side of my seat on the train as I was packing away stuff into my bag prior to alighting. Shit.

Anyway, I thoroughly recommend it. It's the story of the sinking of whaleship The Essex, which provided the inspiration for Moby-Dick. There's lots of cannibalism, moral dilemmas, suspense, stupidity, luck, and ambiguity. Particularly enlightening about the memoirs of Owen Chase, one of the survivors, whose account of events has been thoroughly undermined by the relatively recent publication of the cabin boy's memoirs. Cracking stuff all round.

When I lost the book, they'd already been rescued, so I was allowed a happy ending even if they all die in the last chapter!

Next book: The Game of War: The Life and Death of Guy Debord, by Andrew Hussey.

I'm still very much exercised by Mel Gibson's movie, probably because the U.S. media are still full of it. Here's an interesting letter sent to The New Republic concerning a review of the movie by Leon Wieseltier in an earlier issue:

"Wieseltier concludes that Gibson's The Passion of the Christ is anti-Semitic because many Jews—the angry crowds and Sanhedrin—are shown in a bad light. This, I suggest, is unfair. Jesus himself was a Jew. His apostles, like nearly all of his followers at his death, were Jews. Rather than fixate on the ethnicity of those responsible for Jesus' death, most Christians categorize them by their moral failings. Thus, the mobs were those who capitulated to peer pressure and the frenzy of the moment. Pontius Pilate sacrificed truth for safety. Caiaphas protected his authority by destroying an adversary. Judas betrayed Jesus to further his own cause. Peter denied his friendship with Jesus to avoid danger. In these very human reactions, we see the real message of Jesus' death. All of us who err today as these men did 2,000 years ago are culpable. The fact that Jesus of Nazareth lived in a predominately Jewish world and that his enemies and supporters alike were Jews, while historically accurate, is really quite irrelevant. That some viewers, like their medieval predecessors, might choose to find the Jews of today culpable for these events of the first century is terrible. We cannot, however, allow the ignorance of the few to control what we see and hear."

I'll tell you why it interests me. For one thing, it's the first time I've seen the story of the crucifixion interpreted in this way, namely, as a series of events highlighting various human failings, leading to one bloke getting killed. But for another, it seems to suggest that, if some of these people had had a bit more gumption or courage, Jesus wouldn't have been crucified after all. In other words, the crucifixion was avoidable. So, either these people are culpable for his death, which implies they could have acted otherwise, or the crucifixion had to happen, in which case no one bears any responsibility except God. And if God did it, what kind of a fucker kills his son? What a bastard.

(Of course, Jesus didn't die for our sins, because God brought him back to life and then took him up to paradise. It says so in the Bible. There was no sacrifice after all, was there?)