Samizdata

“This is the news from the BBC. Today witnesses the launch of the Euro as the official currency of the twelve Eurozone countries. There are reports coming in from all over the Eurozone of joyous celebration and free, happy citizens spontaneously embracing each other in a new spirit of unity and brotherhood. Our leader, Citizen Prodi, has formally announced that the Euro will herald in an everlasting era of unprecendented peace, prosperity and complete fairness for every person. Already, the grain harvesting figures are confidently predicted to reach their highest ever level and tractor production has officially doubled! It is the Great Leap Forward our leaders have promised us. Meanwhile, however, in Britain counter-revolutionaries and extreme right-wingers continue to conspire with American capitalists to keep the Euro from liberating the oppressed British people. That is the end of the news”

I don’t mind admitting to the whole world (or such proportion of it that reads this blog at any rate) that I love Christmas. And not just any Christmas, mind, but a Traditional English Christmas. The Christmas of a chocolate-box cottages festooned with holly and mistletoe settled in a thick blanket of virgin snow. Inside, the ruddy-faced yeoman of England get ready to carve the succulent goose while their stout jam-making wives bustle in and out of the kitchen with sweet, steaming puddings. Through the window the sight and sound of squealing children building a snowman and playing with their toys (they have to be innocent, wooden toys – tops and hoops and dolls – none of your Nintendo in this folk-fantasy if you don’t mind) and carried on the wind are the melodic harmonies of the Church choir singing carols from vestries unseen

After the banquet, the sleep-inducing warmth of the crackling hearth, the brandy and the sherry and the port; the smell of cloves and mulled wine; stories and songs and recitations and in every soul the ghostly tingle of the metaphysical magick of the yuletide

This is what Christmas means to me. It is what Christmas will always mean to me. I know it is probably a construct; a quasi-Dickensian fantasy of an England that is no more and, perhaps, never was. But it is a righteous and worthy fantasy all the same; an expression of eternal desire for all the truly important things in life – goodness and bounty and family and home

I have no place in my heart for ‘Happy Holidays’ or the ghastly, bureaucratic ‘Winterval’. Christmas is Christmas and for me it will always be that chocolate-box cottage in the snow somewhere in Dickensian England

May I take the liberty of wishing a very merry English Christmas upon all my fellow Blogistas

Actually I do not mean Sauron at all, I mean Noam Chomsky (I know, I know, same thing).

What do they have in common? Flit, an interesting new blog run by Bruce R., that is what. I found this polished looking little jewel via Dawson, whom I was checking out to see if he had any new Ann Coulter pictures <snigger>.

There is an excellent article critiquing the Horowitz attacks on Chomsky and I must say I largely agree with him on all but a few minor points. I think Christopher Hitchens‘ attacks were far more damaging to Chomsky than those of Horowitz, though he does indeed land a few blows on the Vile One too.

In an earlier Flit article, had I started blogging sooner than November, I would have made much the same points regarding the historical analogies in Afghanistan. Much of the ill informed punditry fretting US involvement in view of the disastrous Soviet and before them, British Afghan wars missed something rather importent… Britain learned the lessons of the horrendous First Afghan War and kicked the crap out of the Pashtun in the Second Afghan War. Likewise the military ‘template’ of successful colonial style warfare, namely using the synergy of friendly local forces and a smaller but highly professional British force with higher technology (the famous mountain warfare ‘screw gun’ light artillery) is exactly what we have seen in Afghanistan once again with the Americans (and some Brits too) operating with the various anti-Taliban forces. It is gratifying to see someone else make those points. However it also backs up what I have also pointed out myself in earlier Samizdata articles, the trick after victory in the Second Afghan War was to install ‘friendly’ local leaders and then get the hell out before an insurgency developed…so why oh why does that cretin Tony Blair want to stick around ‘peacekeeping’? The Americans clearly understand the relevance of British military history better than the half-wits in the Foreign Office… no surprise there I suppose.

But Bruce, as for Kylie and that song… resistance is futile, you have been assimilated.

I missed these excellent brios first time around, but on the theory that highlighting any negative exposure for ol’ Sauron can never be a bad thing, let me commend these well researched exposés to you all.

Over on Front Page, David Horowitz systematically exposes Noam Chomsky to the light of day in The Sick Mind of Noam Chomsky.

He drops his second daisy cutter The Sick Mind of Noam Chomsky: Part II Method and Madness to complete the mission. A job well done, Dave.

I am sending in a vital article from Bosnia-Herzegovina tonight. But the problem with being with my friends in here in Sarajevo is that I now have little sticky crumbs of baklava in between the keys of my portable computer (no, sorry, not the infamous biMac I was fantasizing about before but a real Titanium PowerBook) and there is cigarette ash everywhere. But if there was no baklava crumbs and cigarette ash, I would not believe I was here. Yes, I know I am rambling but I am slightly drunk on Stara Sljivovica and hopped up on endless tiny cups of nuclear strength Bosnian coffee.

Ok, the important information now: over on the wonderful blog Mind over what matters, there is a picture of Jay Zilber in bed. It is soooooo cute!

But what I want to know is who is that funny looking guy that he is lying on?

I was cruising the besotted Dawson‘s blog whereupon I saw this little paean to one of the delectable Capitalist Chicks:

Tara (‘that’s Tear-ah, not Tar-ah’), let that lovely word roll off your tongue…Tara, just emailed me a very intimate note. I should not do this, but I’ll (sigh) share it with ya’ll:

“Glad to see you like the site! We’re going through a major rennovation at the moment, so expect to see a more dynamic bit of site coming up in the next week or two with some new content. I’ll let you know when it’s up! ~Tara J.”

Think she likes me? (The Site in question is Capitalist Chicks btw, and since I go there ALL THE TIME, I’ll let you know when she let’s me know, you know…)

I hate to burst your bubble Dawson, but that is the e-mail she sends to everyone who sends an enquiry to the site.

They are rather delectable, though.

The Capitalist Chicks site is very much ‘under construction’ (it does not work properly with IE and has various layout problems), but like the moon-struck Dawson, we shall report loudly when the site is presented in a ‘combat ready’ form.

Just out of curiosity, I e-mailed our own delectable contributor, Natalija Radic to get some female feedback on the Capitalist Chicks site. Her last e-mail of the exchange was:

Oh, shame on you. Why you surprised I like it? Am I not a capitalist chick too? You nickname me ‘Versace babe’ but can only be a Versace babe with lots of MONEY. Not all Capitalists have fat tummy like you.

Ouch.