Friday, October 24, 2014

Silent Bob joins the Islamic State ??

U B the Judge:

ISIL instructor of "Cubs of the Caliphate"

Silent Bob


Thursday, October 23, 2014

Word of the Day: “Dabiq”

The name of ISIL’s English-language magazine -- its answer to al-Qaeda’s uninspiring Inspire -- is mysteriously titled Dabiq.   I hope to explain this as time permits, but in the meantime there is a narrowly linguistic matter,  à la “ISIS or ISIL?”: namely, how to pronounce the word.  As it is currently being grossly misprononced in the media, I thought I’d weigh in before the error spreads.

The Arabic is دابق , with a long initial vowel and a short final vowel.  Accordingly, a narrow transcription would be Dâbiq.   The d here is the plain (unemphatic, non-pharyngealized) consonant; hence the long â has a relatively light or fronted character.  Pronounce the word

     DA - bik

with accent on the first syllable, whose vowel is like that in cat.

Word of the Day: “téléréalité”

An acerbic essay on ‘reality shows’ in Holland, by my favorite Franco-Morocco-Dutch audiojournalist, Fouad Laroui:

As he notes, the genre was actually launched in the Netherlands in the first place.

Monday, October 20, 2014

Decapitation Daily (updated)

In those lazy, hazy days  before the planes hit the towers,  I used to enjoy an article-and-essay aggregation site, Aldaily.   It’s still around, and would still be interesting in another, parallel, and better world;   but reality is too much with us, and for years now -- and at present especially  -- I have been obliged to concentrate on unfolding events, more closely related to my day-job.

Anyhow -- Simply glancing at a few of the stories that have surfaced -- or rather, broken beneath the surface, since most people won’t have heard of them -- it strikes me that one could actually run a “Decapitation Aggregation Site”, with something fresh almost every day.
This we shall certainly not do;  but the subject deserves a one-time alert from this site, that there is a pattern here -- there are dots that connect-up -- which won’t be apparent to most consumers of the minimizing, gaze-averting media.

(1) One story that did get some airplay  was the Oklahoma City atrocity in September;  we examine some aspects of it towards the end of the essay here.   At the time, some observers objected to the played-down, one-off way the story was being reported, maintaining that the incident was more properly seen in the perspective of terrorism.   The irony is reflected in this typical reader’s comment:

Nothing to see here people, just your regular, run-of-the-mill workplace beheading.

The story has pretty much died down.  The latest is, um, this:

What you probably have not heard is that there was, in the same month, a similar attack in London.   For a link, there is little beyond this right-wing site,

since the MSM tiptoes around it.   Thus, the original story in the Telegraph (UK) made no mention of the perpetrator’s name, or race, or national origin, and mentioned the suggestion that he was “Muslim” only to immediately cast doubt upon the idea (“could not be verified”; meaning, they would not look into it).  However, the bienpensant newspaper reassured us, any connection to terrorism had been “ruled out” (i.e., in advance, as a matter of principle, since the incident had not yet been investigated).

(2)  You perhaps have heard of the assassination and decapitation of the seven Trappist monks in Tibhirine (variant spelling Tibéhirine), Algeria, in 1996.

The incident was never cleared up, owing to stonewalling by the Algerian government.  Now at last, a forensic team from France has been allowed into the country, to examine the severed heads,  this being all that is left of the monks.  (In French this operation is called, oddly, “une expertise de têtes”.)

(3)  Again in Algeria, the newspaper El Watan has announced the identity of the beheader of the French hiking guide Hervé Gourdel:  Kerza Bashir (French spelling Bachir).

(4)  In Nigeria, Boko Haram continues its depredations.  When these involve schoolgirls, and a suggestion of sex, the media gives these very great play indeed.   That Boko also relish beheadings  is less widely publicised.   Most recently, they decapitated a pilot, and made an exultant video of the event.

This kind of meme cannot be tracked by the traditional methods of counter-terrorism.  It is more like the ebola virus, that can travel thousands of miles unseen.   No appeals, no reason can oppose it, for it lies far beneath the slender outcroppings of the conscious mind.   It is like a green and glittering serpent, coiled deep within the unconscious:  across the vast abyss,  Id calls out to Id...

[Update 20 October 2014]  I probably ought to really not probably do this, lest this site start attracting the … wrong sort of traffic;  but could not resist this bit for connoisseurs.
A couple of months ago, we commented on the Sunni-on-Sunni violence of ISIL against a Syrian tribe, the Chaïtat.  Today, the Washington Post finally got around to mentioning it too:

The cost of turning against the Islamic State was made brutally apparent in the streets of a dusty backwater town in eastern Syria in early August. Over a three-day period, vengeful fighters shelled, beheaded, crucified and shot hundreds of members of the Shaitat tribe after they dared to rise up against the extremists.
By the time the killing stopped, 700 people were dead.
Just as powerful a message for those living under the militants’ iron fist was the almost complete international silence on the bloodbath.

But the Post adds a chilling yet (in line with ISIL generally) flamboyant and theatrical detail:

A photo essay on an Islamic State blog boasted of the different ways tribesmen were killed, including beheadings, mass shootings and a crucifixion. A video shows how the militants lined up scores of captives on a road, their hands bound, then set about clumsily decapitating them, one by one. The executioners, speaking in Tunisian, Egyptian and Saudi accents, taunted those not yet dead by swinging severed heads in front of their faces and telling them, “It’s your turn next.”

Sunday, October 19, 2014

Les femmes aux chapelles de l’art: then and now

During the months I lived in Paris, back in the mid-late ‘60s, among of the cultural oddities that struck me  were signs on the gates of a couple of the most prestigious museums, denying entry to women (and  à l’époque, it would only have been women;  back then, people seemed to know what sex they were) tricked out in stiletto heels.   The floors were of rare and expensive wood, and would otherwise be permanently damaged.   It was impressive that these palaces of high art could be so bold as to do that,  since a stiletto-heeled woman is likely to be both self-involved and on a short fuse;  the confrontations cannot have been pleasant.


In the top of today’s Paris news, was an incident at the opera, in which a rich couple visiting from the Gulf, seated in the costly first row, was perceived to be wearing, not only the traditional Islamic gown and head-covering (which are legal in France) but a veil (which, by recent law, is not).   During the first act, a number of performers noticed this, and complained to their manager, the chorus even going so far as to refuse to sing in Act II, unless the law was enforced.    To the surprise and (in some quarters) delight of many Frenchmen, this was actually done:   the offender was given the alternative of obeying local law or departing;  she chose to depart.

All this caused an uproar, which reached all the way to the Minister of Culture, who issued new guidelines.

Travaillant au noir,
le détective  se trouve aux prises
avec le Saint-Esprit


Mais… Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose (as someone once said -- I forget).
Just now, re-reading Proust, (A l’ombre des jeunes filles en fleurs, 1919), I happened upon this passage, 
as Marcel, long having dreamt of attending a performance of La Berma, now at last it on the threshold of doing so, as he stares at l’affiche outside the theatre:

je ne fis qu’un bond  jusqu’à la maison,
cinglé que j’étais  par ces mots  magiques
qui avaient remplacé  dans ma pensée
   “paleur janséniste”
  “mythe solaire” :
 Les dames ne seront pas reçues à l’orchestre en chapeau;
les portes seront permées à deux heures …”

[NDLR:  “Found poetry”, c’est le pendant linguistique de l” objet trouvé”. 
Pour d’autres exemples -- en anglais, en français, et en allemand -- cliquez ici.]

Pour nos essais
en langue
la plus châtiée qui soit,
checkez-out   …..

Saturday, October 18, 2014

Down the Drain

Even as ISIL pushes the bounds of savagery in their attack against all that is not Takfiri-Salafi, certain forces in the West seem bent upon demonstrating that, indeed, our cultural corruption has reached such a point that we are past saving.   Nor are these forces merely marginal;  they currently rule France.

Here are just the latest provocations from the socialos. 
(Note:  I use the French slang term here  in preference to the official word socialiste, since the Hollande crew have little to do with traditional socialism, and nothing at all to do with the international working class.   To apply the term to their antics, would be to sully it.)

(1)  On nous prend pour des cruches.

Smack in the middle of the Place Vendôme, the socialo mayor of Paris had a monstrosity installed (using taxpayer funds).   She then had the effrontery to pretend that it depicts a “tree”;  whereas in fact (as the artist itself stated to Le Monde), it is nothing less than a giant “butt plug”:

Most of us had previously been unaware of the existence of this paraphiliac sex-toy, but now the socialos are rubbing our faces in it.

In France, the sculpture was titled “Sapin de Noël”, thus  as an added benefit  degrading the holiday that celebrates the birth of our Lord.  Those who pretend that the thing is just a stylized tree, take us for idiots.   Here is another work by the same soi-disant ‘artist’, titled “Train”:

I don’t think that is actually a real train.

(Note:  Back in days more innocent than our own, when it still was licit  to speak aloud, a very few  warned that celebrating pedicatio might lead, in time,  to countenancing theriophilia.   For that, they were roundly denounced.  But the monstrosity above is Exhibit A.)

Fortunately, a French citizen with some gumption did not take all this lying down, and (literally) pulled the plug on the giant inflatable affront to the republic:

The Plug, in a state of detumescence

This invert truly has a fecal obsession;  and a spineless public, cowed into submission in the face of repeated paraphiliac assaults, allows itself to be almost literally shat upon.  Here is another of the perpetrator’s public installations, tolerated by the taxpayers:

(2)  The second mistress of the abject Hollande (de son vrai titre, “Madame le Président”), having pushed out the first mistress, was later herself dumped for yet another presidential plaything;  out of spite, she published a sordid tell-all (or invent-all) potboiler.   The bienpensant press gallantly refers to her as the “former first lady”;  that she is not, nor really even an ‘lady’ tout court.  Here is one of her latest antics:

Valerie Trierweiler
at Jean-Luc and Christophe's wedding anniversary party
at the Banana Cafe in Paris

The ‘newlyweds’, as you might guess, are ipsigeneric.

More here, including an account of her latest physical assault against yet another female rival:

(3)  The attack on the family  proceeds apace:

Pour garder vos allocations familiales, un conseil : divorcez !
Pour l'historien Benoît Pellistrandi, la gauche abuse de l'argument de l'autorité pour justifier l'écrasement fiscal des familles.

Some reader comments:

les féministes de la gauche caviar et laïcarde continuent de dézinguer la famille !!
Touraine détruit les couples, Hollande n'est pas marié donc il s'en fout.

More on Le suicide français:

For further glimpses of the truly desperate state of morality in France:

Aux armes, chrétiens!

[Update 19 October 2014]  Plans to transfer the butt-plug to the Vatican  and to reinflate it in St Peter’s Square, as a sign of pastoral welcoming to the vibrant diversity of Christendom, have been canceled at the objections of those bishops who have not yet taken leave of their senses.

Friday, October 17, 2014

Time, gentlemen

Check this out:

More than two dozen African countries have already imposed restrictions or outright bans on travel to and from Liberia, Sierra Leone and Guinea, and numerous air carriers have canceled flights.

I earlier mentioned the stalwart stance of KSA, in banning the inflight of (pourtant) Muslims  from the top three infected countries, to the Hajj;  thank goodness, this year’s pilgrimmage seems to have gone off especially well.
But I had no idea that so many African countries  were less paralyzed by political correctness, than is America, Belgium, or France.

Ebola nurse, enjoying her Caribbean cruise.

[Update 20 Oct 2014]  And now yet another African country has decided it doesn’t want to be a sacrificial lamb just to please the bleeding-hearts:  Morocco has just rescinded its commitment to host the Coupe d’Afrique des Nations (soccer tournament) in January, owing to the risk.   The soccer authorities tried to twist their arm, but Morocco held tough.


There has been much tut-tutting about ‘scare tactics’ re ebola.  In principle, that is a valid concern.  There have historically been many cases of media-inflated panics, simply to “sell newspapers” (permit me this somewhat archaic formulation, propre à  un sexagénaire).  In our own day, “shark attacks” (or child abductions) regularly fill the news vacuum during the summer doldrums; eventually it is acknowledged that there was  statistically  nothing to it.
But there is a contrary possibility, that of “sedative tactics” or “soporific tactics”.  Thus, consider what your impressions are, of the progression of ebola.

[Pause while you reflect.  Then, scroll down.]


The sense one gets from the media is:
(1) First, one has a slight fever, then perhaps diarrheia and vomiting.  All quite familiar symptoms of a host of minor illnesses, from childhood on, and in that sense  almost reassuring.
(2)  Next, either
(a) you are all better again, feeling your oats, clicking your heels, and immune for evermore,
(b) somehow, silently, in the night, (no-one knows quite how)
a gentle death spreads o’er thee,
like some sweet dream,
and thou art risen among the angels,
world without end.

Actually, as a matter of medical fact, there seems to be an intermediate stage, at least in some cases.   These you will not generally hear of.

The standard image in the media these days, is this:

Kinda cute li'l critter, big eyes and a lopsided grin

Not very threatening;  might almost be one of those ribbon stick-ons for your car, in support of Breast Cancer Awareness or whatever.

But if you google-image “ebola symptoms”, a different picture emerges:

Coming soon ...
... to a nursery school ...

.... near you.

Enjoy the epidemic!
Heaven forbid we should offend anyone, by actually protecting ourselves...

Sorry to have to display such things;  but the fact is, the airbrushing of ebola's real nature   amounts to a kind of cover-up.

[Update 18 October 2014]  Never mind, stand down.  Everything is now under control.
The President has just appointed a lawyer and “longtime political operative” as “ebola czar”.   That should fix things.
Problem solved.

(Wonder if, a few months from now, we’ll be hearing “Klainy, you’re doing a heckuva job.”)

[Update 19 October 2014]  Hmm …

President Obama on Saturday evening met with members of his national security and public health teams for an update on the administration's response to the Ebola outbreak. The president's new Ebola czar, Ron Klain, did not take part in the meeting, according to the White House.

Interesting.  Second such meeting he’s missed, so they say.  Is he perhaps, ahh, feeling a little under the weather?  Running a slight fever? ….
OK, let’s go back to panic.


Yes, all this is kind of harsh;  but that is called-for, given the continuing fog of obfuscation and patronizing Pollyannaism we are being fed.

Thus, the other day, one of the major media outlets had a nice simplified graphic, of the sort that could be understood even by illiterates, to “educate the public”.  Eager to learn, we set down our crayons and pulled our chairs close.

There we saw an icon of a meal with one of those diagonal ‘Not’ lines through it.  Actually that isn’t as easy to interpret as the editors apparently thought, since the most obvious interpretation -- “Don’t eat” (here, or this, or whatever) -- is the opposite to the one intended.   What they meant was:  Go ahead -- “Whatsoever ye find in the market, that eat” (as St Paul put it):  you “can’t get ebola from food.”

Now, we shall readily grant that the chances of contracting ebola from a pizza or whatever  are effectively nil;  but that cheerful slogan brushes over the generally accepted account that this outbreak entered the human population precisely via food:  Namely, bushmeat.

Oh well, true enough (you might tut-tut), but none of that has any relevance to the West, where we don’t eat monkeys and pangolins and bats and what-have-you.  Only … wherever you have pockets of African ex-pats, you are going to find illegal importation of bushmeat, generally in the suitcases of travelers (which means that, in addition, it will not be of the freshest).   A recent article states that 270 tons of the stuff -- viande de brousse -- is smuggled-in annually via Roissy airport alone.

270 tonnes de viande de brousse illégale transitent chaque année par l'aéroport de Roissy (France)

De la viande de brousse est toujours importée illégalement en France

Don’t take their word for it; here is an official source: