Nothing tarted up as nihilism
I had a vague idea for a long-ish post about Radiohead, but I stumbled across this blog entry (and, in particular, the phrase used as the title of this post) which nails them exactly.
The only thing I’d add is that Radiohead clearly do have some musical talent, as evidenced by The Darkness’s metal cover of ‘Street Spirit’ or Brad Mehldau’s drum-and-bass inspired jazz version of ‘Paranoid Android’. Unfortunately, they’ve managed to target themselves precisely at an ‘intelligent’ rock audience that only has room for middlebrow mediocrity.
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Joy to the world
2004 is going to be a great year. Hello everyone, hope you had a good Christmas, or a nice time if you don’t celebrate Christmas, and have a good new year (or, I suppose, a nice time generally if you aren’t under the jackboot of the Gregorian calendar).
I’ve just returned to Cambridge after being away for Christmas. If you’ve emailed me recently (or not so recently), I won’t have read it yet, but I’ll reply today.
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Panglossian marxists
I wrote a long post explaining why Socialism in an age of waiting is wrong, both in general and in the specific case of suggesting that marxists should recognise the progressive role of capitalism, and hence support the Iraq war. Unfortunately, Firebird, that filthy commie browser, crashed before I could post it. Suffice it to say that they owe more to Dr Pangloss than to Marx. Capitalism is not a progressive step, the brutalities of which are a sorry price that inevitably leads to the best of all possible worlds. Capitalism has always been a process of class struggle, not internally progressive, but only progressive when forced to be by the resistance of the working class. Communism is this immanent resistance, and so to be communist we must resist capital in Iraq and at home.
But my original post was much better, including a proper argument, as well as digressions about how great Stalin and Mao were, and my favourite insult of Karl Popper. Still, I did at least manage to prove to my own, if to no-one else’s, satisfaction, that subjectivist marxism is, with the possible exception of the renaissance, Italy’s greatest contribution to world history.
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Avoiding the obvious
Another exciting thesis you should write. Obviously, the motivation behind this one is to find some way of avoiding the conclusion that Britney Spears is objectively fascist.
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Queering down cock
I’m constantly impressed by the lengths Mark and Lard will go to in order to get jokes about blow jobs on daytime radio. At the moment, the major part of this campaign is their beer tasting slot: “A nice mouthful of Plumbers Length” etc. Real public service broadcasting.
(This post is an excuse to use this phrase from a recent Jerkcity as a title).
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Fuck the soixante dixhuitards
David Aaronovitch is a fucking unpleasant man. In the Guardian today he gloats about Saddam’s humilitation:
This bum was Saddam? You could almost smell the hole he had been in, the sweat, the bits caught in the tangled beard; taste the thick breath as the medic probed the old dictator’s mouth like doctors do in geriatric wards.
He then goes on to exult about the execution of Ceausescu, and express regret that Idi Amin and Pol Pot died in their beds.
Now, don’t get me wrong, all the above are thoroughly unpleasant people, and any misfortunes of theirs shouldn’t be an especial source of sadness. But Aaronovitch’s glee is something else entirely, something so repulsive and so at odds with basic humanitarianism it gives the lie to the pro-war left’s claim to be the true advocates of human rights and international solidarity.
I think I’ve figured it out: the pro-war left position is the ressentiment of the powerless who find themselves allied to someone with power. The social democratic left has been utterly defeated by capitalist restructuring (particularly globalisation) post-1968. There’s little left for them to smile about, so how can they not cheer on the tough guy who beats up one of their old enemies? Never mind that this is just another step in the construction of a world order that is everything they were fighting against: they’re finally getting a chance to be on the winning side, and they’ll hang on to it for all they’re worth.
On the other side, we have a strange coalition: the stupid, joyful optimism of the globalisation movement (those of us who know the world is beautiful, seen through the cracks we make in capitalism’s facade), and the cynical vanguardism, the creepy ‘optimism of the will’ of the trots and stalinists of the old left. We believe in everything, the sparts never believed in anything, but what I have in common with Andrew Murray (the only thing) is that we are not disappointed. That’s why we have everyone under 30 on our side: the allure of left-wing pro-war sentiment requires the belief in a dream they know to have failed, but which they can’t move on from (witness the endless trot-baiting and quaint ’80s hard-left interpretations of the anti-war and anti-globalisation movement from Nick Cohen and the like).
So let’s leave the old men to their sour pleasures and their fawning over the guy with biggest muscles. We can be happy Saddam is gone, and we’ll be happier still when Bremmer is gone too. Ours is a politics of love, love for people in Iraq and for the whole world; hell, we can include Saddam in that, poor bastard (and to call him poor now doesn’t mean we forget what a bastard he is), because we’ve got more than enough love to spare. The disillusionment of a generation of leftists doesn’t need to get us down.
… continued
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On truth and lies in a non-moral sense
Are people who claim to like Ja Rule just lying? I’m aware that musical tastes can differ, but I don’t see how you can fail to come to the conclusion that Ja Rule (and the rest of his Murder, Inc mates, such as Fat Jo) has absolutely no talent. There are more or less objective yardsticks for skill in rap: a sense of rhythm, meaningful content, or inventive rhymes and metrical schemes. Muttering about shagging over an old soul loop displays none of these.
Is there anyone reading this who can enlighten me, or is Ja Rule really just Rowley Birkin MC?
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Ooh, get her
Apparently, Saddam Hussein is being sarcastic. Dear God, is there anything this fiend isn’t capable of?
Meanwhile, it’s all going to shit in the middle east. Hooray for imperial police actions.
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The funniest thing on the Internet
Here and here. Courtesy of Something Awful’s always hilarious weekend web.
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Carrot risotto
I have somehow managed to have this blog for about six months without a food section. No more: to rectify that, and because I’m feeling in a peculiarly wintery mood today, here is one of my favourite recipes for this time of year.
- A cup of risotto rice
- Two large carrots
- About two pints of stock (probably chicken or vegetable would be best)
- A large clove of garlic
- A generous teaspoon of five-spice powder
- Two bay leaves
- A large knob of butter
- Olive oil
- Parmesan
Chop the carrots into fairly small pieces, or grate them. Fry the carrots slowly in the olive oil until slightly browned. Add the garlic and continue frying. Add the rice and stir to coat with the oil. Put in the five-spice powder and bay leaves, and salt (depending on how salty your stock is). Add stock a ladle-full at a time, stiring continuously in the approved manner. When the rice is cooked (you might not need all two pints of stock. Or you might need to add some more water), add a final ladle full of stock, the parmesan (lots of it) and the butter, stir, cover and leave for a few minutes until the stock is absorbed.
Add the black pepper and serve, either on its own, or with some form of stew, probably involving chicken livers, allspice and oranges. Other good winter risottos are pea and taleggio or leek, sausage and tarragon. I once made a ‘scottish’ risotto with lamb mince and scottish cheddar, which was surprisingly nice, served with a parsnip salad.
Obviously, I wouldn’t recommend actually following my instructions; I’m not Delia Smith. But hopefully this recipe will suggest interesting things for you to cook.
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