What Real Fascism Looks Like
Imagine for a moment that the American ambassador to France summons the organizer of the Cannes Film Festival to his office and after a meeting the two announce that it would be best for France if Michael Moore’s latest movie is not shown in the country.
Unthinkable, right? Yet that’s essentially what happened this week in Thailand.
The Iranian government succeeded in getting Persepolis removed the Bangkok Film Festival line up. The film by French-based Iranian dissident Marjane Satrapi is opposed by the Iranian theocracy because it "presents an unrealistic face of the achievements and results of the glorious Islamic Revolution in some of its parts".
In withdrawing the offending film, the festival organizer said, “It's a good film, but there are other considerations."
Those other considerations include a barbarically violent “insurgency” in southern Thailand where Islamists are fighting Buddhist oppression by cutting the heads off women and children with dull machetes.
Considering that Iran is an equal opportunity jihad supporter, I am almost tempted to wonder if Iran has a hand in the “insurgency.” Nah, that’s unthinkable too.
But for all the critics who feverishly imagine the United States throwing around its influence to crush dissent, this is a useful lesson in how fascism actually works. The threat of physical violence is what is censoring Persepolis.
Fascism always comes down to physical pain. And pain is very persuasive. That's why it's employed so frequently and effectively by proxies in places like Gaza, Kashmir, and Thailand as well as by governments such as Cuba, Zimbabwe, North Korea.
And that’s why it’s hard to take seriously those who go on national television to complain about the crushing of dissent here in the U.S. In the real world "speaking truth to power" can get you crushed quite literally.
Friday, June 29, 2007
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Tony Blair Departs 10 Downing Street
With the baying of assorted malcontents in the far background, Tony Blair and family leave the Prime Minister's residence marking another yet dignified (if not entirely peaceful) transition of power in a civilized Western democracy.
Compared to France’s recent transition I can conclude that the Brits have nicer cars but the French have prettier women. No surprise there.
With the baying of assorted malcontents in the far background, Tony Blair and family leave the Prime Minister's residence marking another yet dignified (if not entirely peaceful) transition of power in a civilized Western democracy.
Compared to France’s recent transition I can conclude that the Brits have nicer cars but the French have prettier women. No surprise there.
Friday, June 22, 2007
oDelawhere?
Passing through Delaware reminds me once again that I’ve never actually met anyone from Delaware. I’ve never set foot in Delaware. And most disturbingly, when the word "Delaware" is uttered, I can’t picture anything.
Try a little state-based word association.
What comes to your mind when you think of Idaho? Potatoes of course.
Texas? Oil, black gold.
Vermont? Cows with unshaven legs.
Now think of Delaware. What do you see . . . DuPont? Articles of incorporation? How about the Delaware Water Gap? Nope, that’s in Pennsylvania.
I’m telling you, Delaware is a sham.
No one ever gets on or gets off the Amtrak train when it stops in Delaware. There’s never anyone on the platform, or in the station, or anywhere in sight. Even the “advertisements” in the clearly fake railway terminal imply a penchant for obscurity.
(click on the pictures to get a better look)

What do you see as you cross the “state”?
There are a lot of deserted street corners. And when I say deserted, I mean there hasn’t been anything other than feral dogs using these streets for the past decade or so. I guess everyone is down at the luxury yacht registry.

What about industry? Surely there must be some productive blue collar employment opportunities in this colorless state.
Here is a typical “factory” in Delaware complete with elaborate ductwork, spools of cable, and forklift pallets of cardboard packaging. What’s missing in this picture perfect generic factory? Factory workers. Are they all at lunch? Not at 3:35pm, they’re not.

And it the middle of this people-less community, what do we find? A high security facility of some sort. The fences, the cameras, the concertina wire – what sort of attack are they expecting? And who would be doing the attacking . . . there’s no one within miles of the place.

Clearly this is the “safe undisclosed location” from which Dick Cheney runs the real government.
This is where the price of oil is set worldwide, where the controlled detonation of WTC Building 7 was planned and ordered, where the mysterious crash site in Shanksville, PA was simulated, where the cancellation of Rosie O’Donnell’s contract on The View was called for, where all the tapes of “Get Smart,” “The Man From U.N.C.L.E.” and “The Thunderbirds” are hidden.
Delaware is nondescript. It's purposely nondescript. It's as if the state motto is "Move Along. Nothing to See Here." This kind of obscurity can only be by design.
I think I'm onto something big here. If this is my last post, then you I'm right.
Passing through Delaware reminds me once again that I’ve never actually met anyone from Delaware. I’ve never set foot in Delaware. And most disturbingly, when the word "Delaware" is uttered, I can’t picture anything.
Try a little state-based word association.
What comes to your mind when you think of Idaho? Potatoes of course.
Texas? Oil, black gold.
Vermont? Cows with unshaven legs.
Now think of Delaware. What do you see . . . DuPont? Articles of incorporation? How about the Delaware Water Gap? Nope, that’s in Pennsylvania.
I’m telling you, Delaware is a sham.
No one ever gets on or gets off the Amtrak train when it stops in Delaware. There’s never anyone on the platform, or in the station, or anywhere in sight. Even the “advertisements” in the clearly fake railway terminal imply a penchant for obscurity.
(click on the pictures to get a better look)

What do you see as you cross the “state”?
There are a lot of deserted street corners. And when I say deserted, I mean there hasn’t been anything other than feral dogs using these streets for the past decade or so. I guess everyone is down at the luxury yacht registry.

What about industry? Surely there must be some productive blue collar employment opportunities in this colorless state.
Here is a typical “factory” in Delaware complete with elaborate ductwork, spools of cable, and forklift pallets of cardboard packaging. What’s missing in this picture perfect generic factory? Factory workers. Are they all at lunch? Not at 3:35pm, they’re not.

And it the middle of this people-less community, what do we find? A high security facility of some sort. The fences, the cameras, the concertina wire – what sort of attack are they expecting? And who would be doing the attacking . . . there’s no one within miles of the place.

Clearly this is the “safe undisclosed location” from which Dick Cheney runs the real government.
This is where the price of oil is set worldwide, where the controlled detonation of WTC Building 7 was planned and ordered, where the mysterious crash site in Shanksville, PA was simulated, where the cancellation of Rosie O’Donnell’s contract on The View was called for, where all the tapes of “Get Smart,” “The Man From U.N.C.L.E.” and “The Thunderbirds” are hidden.
Delaware is nondescript. It's purposely nondescript. It's as if the state motto is "Move Along. Nothing to See Here." This kind of obscurity can only be by design.
I think I'm onto something big here. If this is my last post, then you I'm right.
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