Thursday, October 04, 2018

The Great Cultural Revolution, American-Style


BY MICHAEL WALSH
https://pjmedia.com/trending/the-great-cultural-revolution-american-style/
October 4, 2018

Related image
(AP)


Who knew that even Gold Rushers were symbols of the racist hegemonic toxic male patriarchy that has plotted against women and minorities from time immemorial? First Father Serra, now Prospector Pete:
Towering over the courtyard at California State University, Long Beach, is the barrel-chested statue of Prospector Pete, the epitome of the rugged 49ers who came to the state looking for gold and land. To some, it is an innocuous icon harkening back to the university’s first president, Pete Peterson, who frequently spoke of having “struck the gold of education.” For others, the bearded and weathered statue is an upsetting relic that sanctions the brutish treatment of indigenous people in the state during the Gold Rush. 
As scholars and students on campuses across the country grapple with debates over free speech and political correctness, Prospector Pete has emerged as a divisive symbol in California. “Walking by a statue that’s put in a prominent place on campus, in an almost honorary way, that’s another type of trauma that’s being imposed on me. This is a part of our family history,” said Miztlayolxochitl Aguilera, 20, who is of Tongva Indian descent. “I heard the stories of murder and rape and genocide growing up. Somebody else, they might not notice the statue. They might not feel what I feel as a California Indian when I see that symbol on campus.”
With a name like that, perhaps Miztlayolxochitl Aguilera ought to check out the history of the native peoples of the Americas, such as the Aztecs:
For decades, historians were skeptical of Spanish accounts documenting Aztec human-sacrifice rituals. They were generally thought to be historiographical—intended to portray indigenous Mesoamericans as more savage than they actually were, thus necessitating “civilized” colonial governance. This was, after all, a common justification employed throughout the 500 or so years of European colonialism around the world.
But archaeological evidence suggests human sacrifice was indeed a regular aspect of Aztec religious practices. And the zeal with which it was practiced can be traced back to the political reforms of one man—imperial vizier Tlacaelel, who, in 1428, launched a campaign of religious codification, military development, and territorial expansion that would, for lack of a better term, really piss off the Aztec’s neighbors.
In a 2011 article written for History Today magazine, historian Tim Stanley wrote:
“[The Aztecs were] a culture obsessed with death: they believed that human sacrifice was the highest form of karmic healing. When the Great Pyramid of Tenochtitlan was consecrated in 1487 the Aztecs recorded that 84,000 people were slaughtered in four days. Self-sacrifice was common and individuals would pierce their ears, tongues and genitals to nourish the floors of temples with their blood. Unsurprisingly, there is evidence that Mexico was already suffering from a demographic crisis before the Spanish arrived.”
There’s no use denying it: Aztec sacrifice was a bloody, messy, brutal affair. There was nothing noble about it.
 



But hey let's blame Prospector Pete:
The school was built on the former site of the sacred village of Puvungna, where the Tongva indigenous people lived long before European contact. And beyond its early branding by Mr. Peterson, the university has no historical ties to the Gold Rush, having been founded a century after the so-called 49ers struck gold.
Now, after years of activism and a formal committee inquiry, Jane Conoley, the university’s president, announced last month that the statue will be formally moved. The cartoonish Prospector Pete costume mascot used at athletic games, which has been slowly phased out in recent years, will also be formally retired.
Ms. Aguilera, who recalled when her grandmother forbade her from acknowledging her indigenous ancestry, out of fear that it would lead to further marginalization, praised the move. “This is an acknowledgment of our trauma as indigenous people who suffered,” she said. “And it’s also an acknowledgment that we have to learn about these histories, about what’s going on around us.”
Ok, Ms. Conoley, let's learn some more!
Conquistadors sacrificed and eaten by Aztec-era people, archaeologists say
Spanish conquistadors, women, children and horses were imprisoned for months, sacrificed and eaten by contemporaries of the Aztecs, archaeologists report after unveiling new research from ruins near Mexico City. Although Spanish chroniclers including Hernán Cortés, who led the conquest of Mexico in 1520, recorded the capture of a convoy that year, archaeologists are for the first time uncovering details of what happened when a native people first encountered the Spanish, Mexico’s National Institute of Anthropology and History said in an announcement of its findings.
Only a few dozen miles from the relative safety of the Spanish army, the convoy of conquistadors and allies encountered a local people known as the Acolhuas, allies of Tetzcoco, a major Aztec city. Somehow, the caravan – archaeologists estimate it included 15 Spaniards, 45 soldiers from the colonies, 50 women, 10 children and a large number of indigenous allies – was captured. Over the next six months, its members met a grisly end.
Traces of construction show that the Acolhuas had to remake Zultepec, a town just east of the capital, then called Tenochtitlan, to accommodate the prisoners, archaeologist Enrique Martinez said in a statement. The town was eventually renamed from Zultepec to Tecoaque, which in the native Nahuatl language means: “The place where they ate them.”
The archaeologists said the townspeople sacrificed people in honor of the serpentine fertility god Quetzalcoatl, the jaguar god Tezcatlipoca and the aquiline warrior god Huitzilopochtli. “Different deities needed different sacrifices,” Rosemary Joyce, a professor of anthropology at the University of California, Berkeley, told the Guardian.
To seize the future, the Left must first erase the past.So to which deities are today's progressives sacrificing American history?

Whatever it Takes


By Ann Coulter
http://www.anncoulter.com/
October 3, 2018

Image result for kavanaugh hearing

The Democrats' current position on the Supreme Court nomination of Judge Brett Kavanaugh is: We cannot have someone addicted to beer on our highest court! What if a foreign power were to ply him with this nectar in a can? Talk about taking control of our government! Suppose they throw in a case of Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier? 

A bitter college roommate is going whole hog, wailing, He lied about being a beeraholic. 

By the media's account, Kavanaugh was a bounder, a brawler and a drunk. And yet he still managed to graduate at the top of his class, go to Yale, then to Yale Law and work in the highest positions in government. 

I am in awe of his manliness. Hemingway has nothing on this guy! He should be our president. To paraphrase Abraham Lincoln after being told Ulysses S. Grant was a drunk, let's find out what Kavanaugh drank and send a barrel of it to every college student. 

At least the Democrats seem to have moved on from the Crazy Ladies Who Must Be Believed. 

Kavanaugh's first accuser, Christine Blasey Ford, doesn't remember the time or place of the alleged high school groping, and all four witnesses she named deny any memory of such a party. 

Forcing our first one-week delay, we were told that the poor lady was so traumatized by being groped in high school that she couldn't fly. It was the worst thing that ever happened to her, compelling her to do what any reasonable person would under the circumstances: Add a second front door to her house. 

She was supposedly terrified of small spaces, and an airplane, one of her friends told CNN, "was the ultimate closed space where you cannot get away." 

Then we found out that Ford regularly jets off to Hawaii, Costa Rica, the South Pacific islands and French Polynesia ... to go surfing, one of the most terrifying activities around. 

It sounded like a joke. I was so shattered and broken, I could only go rock climbing in the Grand Tetons. After that, I'd repair to my room and curl up in a fetal position. Then I'd go rock climbing again.


An ex-boyfriend has come forward to say that in six years of dating Ford, she never mentioned a sexual assault, had no fear of flying, lived comfortably in a tiny home with only one front door, once coached a friend on how to take a polygraph, contrary to her sworn testimony -- and also lied about stealing $600 from him. 

Kavanaugh's second accuser, Deborah Ramirez, jumped in to help, dusting off a memory of the nominee pulling a Bill Clinton on her as a freshman in college -- but only after she spent a week huddled with her attorney, "assessing her memories" and calling classmates to ask if they thought it was true. 

And did she have corroboration? She doesn't need any! She's a "survivor." Even The New York Times -- the newspaper that believed the Duke lacrosse rape case until about five minutes before the prosecutor was disbarred -- said Ramirez didn't have enough evidence to meet its standards. 

His third accuser, our heroine Julie Swetnik, is the woman produced by porn lawyer Michael Avenatti. She claims that she repeatedly attended gang rape parties in the 1980s -- and she saw Brett Kavanaugh there! 

An ex-boyfriend says Swetnik once threatened to kill him and his unborn child; she had a restraining order taken out against her; was sued by an employer for engaging in "sexually offensive conduct," making "false and retaliatory allegations" against co-workers and also lying about her educational background and work history. 

A Democrat and Emmy-winning meteorologist wrote a letter to the Senate Judiciary Committee stating that, soon after he met Swetnik in the 1990s, she proposed group sex to him. Some years later, her own father told him to stay away, citing Swetnik's psychological problems. 

She is now the Democrats' leading contender for 2020. 

Poor Kate Snow of NBC News thought she had landed the interview of a lifetime when she sat down with Swetnik. Within about three questions, it became clear that she was talking to a lunatic. At that point, most of Snow's energy went into hoping for a building-wide power failure to shut down the cameras. 

Of the four witnesses Swetnik provided to NBC, whom she claimed would confirm her story, one denied knowing any Julie Swetnik, one was dead, and two did not respond to the network, perhaps wishing they were dead too. 

By the end of the interview, Snow's purse was missing. 

But the Democrats are energetic devils. They've been poring over Kavanaugh's high school yearbook and exclaiming, He's a beeraholic! 

With grim passion, they say, how dare you laugh at this? If he were a teetotaler, they'd say, We can't have someone on the court who's so nerdy. How can this weird aesthete sympathize with murderers and insider traders? 

They've already won a second week's delay by having two deranged women scream at Sen. Jeff Flake in an elevator. 

After wetting himself, Flake insisted on a seventh FBI investigation. For weeks, the Democrats have been demanding an investigation -- of an incident without witnesses, on a date unknown at a place unknown -- by saying, Oh, you big babies, the FBI investigation of Anita Hill only took three days! 

The FBI wrapped up its investigation of Kavanaugh in a few days and then sat around wondering how long it had to wait before producing the report. So now the "it will only take three days" crowd is saying, Keep investigating! We don't know how long the probe should be, but the minimum standards of decency require that it last at least until there's a new president. 

Whatever they find, they will argue in the alternative and just keep doing it and doing it. If Kavanaugh stepped on a bug, PETA activists would be screaming at Flake in an elevator. 

The Democrats have a pair of twos, but they expect Republicans to fold. Why? Because that's what Republicans always do! 

Unfortunately, this time, Kavanaugh's supporters are not accepting surrender. 

The Battle of Brett Kavanaugh


October 3, 2018
Image result for pickett's charge
Pickett's Charge,Gettysburg, July 3, 1863, by Mort Künstler. (mortkunstler.com)
As the smoke starts to clear over the senatorial battlefield, the outlines of the conflict have come into stark relief. What began, like Gettysburg, with the accidental clash of two mighty armies, has become a death struggle between the reactionary forces of cultural-Marxist leftism in their purest, most deracinated form, and the restorative powers of the American Republic-as-founded, including the rule of law, the presumption of innocence, and the orderly workings of our constitutional government. It’s a fight only one side can win, and it had better be ours.
The Pickett’s Charge of the Left came last week, with an all-out assault (to use the feminist Left’s current mot du jour) on Judge Brett Kavanaugh’s record, morals, life, and future. Pinning their hopes on the plainly insincere and deceptive testimony of a fabulist—what, in fact, was “credible” about Christine Blasey Ford’s testimony?—the Left augmented her baseless charges against the judge by quickly moving the goalposts from an alleged “attempted rape” to an indictment of the radicals’ favorite bugbear, the Privileged White Male Patriarchy.
Marked by their usual crude reductionism of a human being to a bloody fanged Marxist stereotype, the Democrats stripped Kavanaugh of his humanity, hurled unsubstantiated accusations with the assistance of a creepy porn lawyer, and preyed on the emotional natures of the most feeble-minded members of the Republican senatorial caucus. It was a despicable performance all around, and one for which they must be held accountable when the fighting finally stops.
Aiding and abetting this willful undermining of the American constitutional system, of course, was the mainstream media and its kiddie-corps allies in the blogging world. By now, it’s clear to all that the press is the engine that drives the Democrats’ agenda, undertaking “investigation” after investigation into Kavanaugh’s past, no matter how scurrilous the charge, while at the same time using the battered body and soul of the judge as a club with which to beat the president. Initially, their attack on the judge had to do with his philosophy, but that quickly morphed into the usual tropes of toxic masculinity (in high school, yet!) and now Kavanaugh is the most famous alcoholic in American public life since Ulysses S. Grant.
So the gloves are off, the statute of limitations has been permanently revoked, and everything is fair game.
Having transformed gossip and rumor into “news” over the past couple of decades, it’s been but a short step for the media to invent its own stories out of whole cloth, then happily retailing them to the True Believers for whom literally nothing about a Republican or a conservative is too fantastic to be believed. As I tweeted the other day in regards to a particularly egregious story in USA Today (one that was quickly re-edited to avoid almost certain legal consequences):
The high hurdle in all libel suits, thanks to the Sullivan decision, was to prove actual malice/reckless disregard. Media’s behavior now makes that SO much easier. Thanks, media! https://twitter.com/USATODAY/status/1045840651827449856 
To which I added this comment in an essay at PJ Media:
If the GOP stays together—no sure bet with the likes of Jeff Flake in their ranks—and gets Kavanaugh confirmed, there really does need to be a day of reckoning for the media. They’ve been skirting the boundaries of their First Amendment protections for a long time now, and while partisan journalism is every bit as protected as “objective” reporting, malicious destruction of someone’s moral reputation, with an implied demand for legal action, is not.
Another casualty of war has been the quack “science” of psychology, of which Ford is apparently a licensed practitioner. My scorn for Viennese Voodoo (including the bogus “medical” specialty of psychiatry) is well known; it’s a cultural artifact from a specific time and place (fin-de-siecle Austria) that, like Marxism and dodecaphony, should have been swept away by World War II but somehow managed to survive, transplant itself, and prosper. The notion that a “talking cure” has any reality outside of the bordello, the confessional, and the barroom is absurd on its face, and the fact that shrinks have been fleecing the public while pretending to care about their “patients,” is surely the triumph of snake oil and Schlagobers over common sense. As I also noted on Twitter:

To accept “recovered memories” as the basis for legal accusations essentially is to descend into witchcraft, in which a hidden “reality” is somehow resurrected via conversation and hypnosis (?) to uncover a whole new host of at least semi-imaginary “traumas.” How this is different from what I or any other novelist does in the course of entering the writer’s trance and describing with the greatest sincerity and utmost possible veracity things that never happened, in the words of people who never existed, remains unexplained. But then again, there is nothing too stupid or fantastic for a modern “progressive” to believe in, should it suit her ideological purposes.
Finally, we come to the dead and wounded elephants on the field, which is the Left’s pathological fear of losing control of the one institution they absolutely must have in order to continue to foist their policy preferences on the body politic without bothering with the democratic process: the Supreme Court. William McGurn, writing in the Wall Street Journal, rightly makes the point that the Battle of Brett Kavanaugh is, at root, about abortion:
As malignant as were the campaigns against Supreme Court nominees Robert Bork and Clarence Thomas, even they didn’t face accusations as vile and unrelenting as the unsubstantiated charges against Brett Kavanaugh. Adding to the injustice is that the frenzy surrounding his nomination isn’t really about him.
It’s about Roe v. Wade. The 1973 Supreme Court decision upended the laws of all 50 states on behalf of a constitutional right to abortion the Constitution somehow neglects to mention. Since then, the advocates of a living Constitution posit that while our Founding document is infinitely malleable, this one ruling is fixed and sacred.
Judge Kavanaugh’s great misfortune is to have been nominated at a moment when the party in opposition frets this fixed and sacred ruling could be overturned.
As well it should. Roe was wrongly decided. The court should never even have heard the case, but it came just a few years after Griswold v. Connecticut, when the sexual revolution was in full swing; the decision perceived a “right to privacy” in the emanations and penumbras of the Constitution. Seeking to protect doctors from legal consequences of abortion, the Warren Burger Court tossed out state laws prohibiting abortion across the land, replacing them with a one-size-fits-all ruling that gradually has been enlarged and expanded; for the atheist Left, the right of a woman to kill her unborn child is now the most sacred of their diabolical sacraments. So Kavanaugh must be sacrificed on the altar of Baal or Belial, because as a possible fifth vote against Roe he represents a mortal threat to the leftist ascendancy.
It’s true the war isn’t over, even should this engagement be won. After Gettysburg, there were still two long years left in the Civil War; Grant was still fighting in Vicksburg. If the next justice to retire or die is one of the liberals, that fight—which could cement a 6-3 majority against Roe and many other ill-considered, anti-democratic decisions—will make the Battle of Brett Kavanaugh look like First Bull Run: a garden party that turned into a shooting war.
The hysterical Left needs to think very carefully about how far they want to push this. Grant is on his way to Virginia, Sherman is marching through Georgia, and Appomattox Court House beckons.

SUSPENDED 20 GAMES, TOM WILSON IS THE NEW RAFFI TORRES

It was clear Wilson wouldn’t be playing for the defending Stanley Cup champion Washington Capitals for a while when he caught the St. Louis Blues’ Oskar Sundqvist with an illegal check to the head in a Sept. 30 pre-season game. Only 16 games, including the playoffs and pre-season, had passed since Wilson earned a three-game ban for his illegal check to the head of the Pittsburgh Penguins’ Zach Aston-Reese. Wilson wasn’t just a repeat offender: he was a very recent repeat offender.
Wilson had every possible strike against him when it came to the league determining his suspension length. Once a play is deemed illegal and severe enough to warrant supplemental discipline in the first place, repeat offenses and injuries to the victim then factor into lengthening any ban, per the collective bargaining agreement. We know Wilson was a repeat offender, and Sundqvist sustained a concussion on the play. We also know suspension lengths compound with each infraction for repeat offenders and that Wilson’s three-game playoff ban was the equivalent of a much-longer regular season one, as playoff games are “weighted” given their significance.
Wilson was thus doomed to earn a monstrous suspension. It’s tied for the ninth-longest in NHL history, trailing only Billy Coutu (life), Raffi Torres (41 games) Chris Simon (30), Jesse Boulerice (25), Chris Simon (25), Marty McSorley (23), Raffi Torres (21) and Dale Hunter (21). There’s a strong parallel between Wilson’s punishment and Torres’.
Torres had earned a 25-game ban, later trimmed to 21, for his headshot on Marian Hossa in a 2012 playoff game. Torres also got tossed for the playoffs after a headshot on Jarret Stoll in the 2013 playoffs. Knee troubles kept Torres off the ice for almost two seasons, so while he wasn’t technically a repeat offender when he hit Jakob Silfverberg in 2015, Torres was tried as one. What earned him the mammoth 41-game suspension then was, in the DOPS’ eyes, the fact he wasn’t just repeating bad behavior but the exact same specific piece of bad behavior. The league had worked with him, watched video, tried to rehabilitate him, and it didn’t work. He showed he simply wasn’t learning.
That’s exactly what we see happening with Wilson now. The DOPS video juxtaposes the Sundqvist hit with the three other collisions that earned Wilson suspensions last season. Watch it here:
The parallels to the Sundqvist hit, especially compared to the Aston-Reese hit, are simply too close. In both cases, the head is avoidable yet still becomes the principal point of contact. Wilson, despite working with the league to study and try to curb his behavior like Torres did, has shown he’s learned nothing – like Torres did. That’s four suspensions in Wilson’s last 105 games, “an unprecedented frequency of suspensions in the history of the Department of Player Safety,” says DOPS senior director Patrick Burke in the video.
Factoring in all the parameters – the repeat offenses, the injury to Sundqvist, the recent history of committing similar on-ice crimes – 20 games seems highly reasonable. It’s a strong, message-sending decision from George Parros, the league’s senior vice-president of player safety.
The news is terrible for the Capitals, who lose their first-line right winger. Wilson will also have to walk on eggshells upon his return. Another violation of rule 48.1 will launch him into the Torres stratosphere, likely with a half-season ban or worse.

Wednesday, October 03, 2018

Identity Is the Mystery in Tana French’s New Crime Novel


By Josephine Livingstone
https://newrepublic.com/article/151462/identity-mystery-tana-frenchs-new-crime-novel
October 1, 2018

Image result for tana french witch elm

In 1943, four boys were poaching in the woods in Hagley, in the English county of Worcestershire. They climbed a wych elm and found a skull inside it. Authorities later found a whole skeleton, along with a wedding ring and a piece of taffeta inside the corpse’s mouth. Some graffiti appeared the next year on a Birmingham monument, reading, “Who Put Bella Down the Wych Elm - Hagley Wood.” The murder has never been solved, and the charismatic graffiti has inspired conspiracy theories ranging from witchcraft to spycraft, as discussed in a 2016 BBC Radio 4 investigation.

This incident is the inspiration for The Witch Elmthe newnovel by Tana French, who is American but has lived for decades in Ireland. Her six previous novels, like In The Woods(2007) and Broken Harbor (2012), focused on ordinary Dubliners and the gruesome crimes that lead them to the attention of the fictional Dublin Murder Squad. The new book is a standalone work that, in a departure for French, uses a creepy historical exemplar to conduct a very modern investigation into the social politics of memory.

Our protagonist is Toby, a handsome guy in his late twenties, who has always been popular, had things easy. “Why didn’t you just file an actual complaint?” he asks his cousin Susanna, who has just told him about a bad experience she had with a doctor during her pregnancy. She responds with a hollow laugh: Toby doesn’t understand what it feels like when people don’t believe you.

But then Toby’s life is transformed. One night robbers break in to his home and beat Toby unconscious. He wakes in the hospital with a skull fracture and a traumatic brain injury. Deeply disturbed by the attack, Toby can’t bear to be touched, or go back to work. Things get worse: He finds out that his uncle Hugo is suffering from a brain tumor that will shortly kill him. Unable to sustain his independent life, Toby moves in with the sweet, bumbling Hugo and begins to assist him with his work as a genealogist.

As he adjusts to his new status as a disabled dependent, he is confronted by an old crime. While Susanna’s kids are out playing in Hugo’s garden they stumble on a human skull, hidden for who knows how long inside the hollow of an elm tree. Detectives show up. Whose skull is it? Why is it in the tree? Who has had access to the garden, and why can’t Toby remember what he needs to remember? He and his cousins used to have parties in the garden in their teenage years, but the details—which could be clues—are maddeningly fuzzy in his memory.

In a 2016 New Yorker piece about French, Laura Miller explained the connection between crime stories and the communities they’re set in: “All crime novels are social novels. They can’t help it; without a society to define, condemn, and punish it, crime itself wouldn’t exist.” In the case of The Witch Elm, French offers an analysis of how privilege (and the lack of it) defines a person’s experience of life.

As Toby tries to unravel the story of the skull, his memories of the past come into conflict with those of other people, including Susanna and his other cousin Leon. Though they went to school together, it turns out that the basic facts of their identities—that Toby is a man; that Susanna is a woman; that Leon is gay—have led the three cousins to have completely different recollections of their lives. Leon and Susanna have much more in common, both having felt marginalized as teenagers. Where does this leave Toby?

Always a white man who moved easily through the world, he feels belittled and emasculated by the robbery-attack, and condescended to by his doctors. Newly possessed of disability, though he can’t quite acknowledge it, Toby’s place in the food chain of social privilege has been radically reconfigured. He’s infuriated by the detectives who won’t tell him everything they know. He doesn’t trust Susanna or Leon; doesn’t know who to trust. He has a great girlfriend named Melissa, but she’s so angelic that there seems something suspicious about her.

French’s accomplishment is in turning the classic mystery novel ingredients—contradictory accounts, unreliable memory, dark family secrets—into a narrative about politics. We are aware that the main character can be somewhat entitled, but also that he is suffering from a brain injury. French invites the reader to make assumptions about his competency, to treat him as an unreliable narrator, because of his condition.

So, French’s readers are drawn into a complex tangle of ethics in which they are forced to question a disabled person’s perspective as a direct result of his disability. In The Witch Elm, we must reckon with two sets of ethics: The systemic discrimination that has given Toby a different life experience than Leon and Susanna, and also the game of revelation played out between author and reader.

The reader surveys the wreckage of French’s creation with a special insight that is most reminiscent of the detectives and the doctors of The Witch Elm—the people who unwittingly conspire to make Toby feel like a nothing, a nobody. Knowledge is a form of power, the novel implicitly argues. If it is dealt out unevenly in a society, then deep cracks are forged. On a metanarrative level, The Witch Elm is a profound reconsideration of power dynamics between the privileged and the less so, drawing the reader into an uneasy alliance with the former. It’s also a thrilling, absorbing mystery, sprinkled liberally with red herrings and culminating in a profoundly satisfying, if totally unforeseeable, ending. Tana French is at the cutting edge of crime fiction, and The Witch Elm pushes its boundaries further.