So all of the usual suspects are in tizzies (that pluralises poorly) about Paradise Now, because it humanises suicide bombers. (On a somewhat related note, the Rabbi recommended that I not see The Passion of the Christ because it would create an inappropriate empathy for the fellow whose followers ultimately branded my grandparents a while back, just outside of Oswiecem.)
I kind of think that humanising suicide bombers is important, though. This is not the standard exonerating pablum about how desperate their lives must be, which is mostly warmed-over Jew-hatred, as best I can tell. But it should not be overlooked that this is human behaviour, and for folks hoping to understand what it means to be human, this is a part of it.
I'm not sure what to do with that point, exactly. Perhaps the flip-side is that if modern science has made any progress in understanding humanity (insert maudlin reference to infinite complexity, blah blah blah), then one could devise an effective response. I know we can track bin Laden's cell phone - but do we know enough about societies to guide them? Or do we just wait and hope the Muslim baby bubble explodes before we do?
Also, do we know what the heck happened to Barry Miller? There's one cardinal rule for movie-watching in the Potemkin household, namely, that one should only watch movies with ugly people in them, because those folks must actually know how to act. (The penumbra to that is, of course, to avoid Julia Roberts films. She's nowhere near as charismatic as she thinks she is, but she's somehow fooled enough people to not have to rely on her
Senor Rodriquez from Boogie Nights might be the requisite exception, but Steve Buscemi's actually really good, so he's in. Frances McDormand; always, always, always Stockard Channing; Jack Klugman; John Turturro (we're heavy on Coen, apparently). One gets the drift. (Or else, one watches Brad Pitt movies, which are punishment enough.)
Anyhow, Barry Miller was (is, I think, at least he should be, according to the actuaries), a goofy-looking fellow who could pass for Jewish (duh), Puerto Rican, or Italian, brilliant or hopeless, and he seems to have completely disappeared, once ties went narrow in the early '80s. Seems a shame.
- Moishe Potemkin
1) To Greg: The reason there were few comments on your initial post on Rambam is because the discussion devolves depressingly quickly into over-confident assertions along the lines of "There is no possible healthy interaction between boys and girls. Period." or similar tripe in which the commentor confuses his confidence in dopey ideas promulgated by 20th century North American chasidim and hastily adopted by religiously insecure Litvacks with there being some sort of factual merit to the argument. Yeesh. Do you really want to encourage that sort of nonsense?
2) To DovBear: Dude, the fundamental principle of all economic theory is that people, as a group, buy less of any given good when this good is more expensive. That rule has been observed over and over again; is true for doughnuts, hand grenades, and employees; is beyond question by both serious and un-serious economists, and represents the fundamental reason why unemployment rises when the minimum wage is raised. You can call that selfishness if you want, but it represents an indisputable segment of human nature, and pretending that it can be legislated away is likely to be as successful as outlawing cancer, or decreeing that fried chicken not make people fat. Id est, not very.
The above was not the original intent of this post. I had wanted to note that on the way to the salt mines this morning, the radio featured two consecutive remakes of songs that weren't terribly memorable in their original form ("Killing Me Softly," and some other mindless dirge, the chorus to which runs something like "So We'll Never Survive, Unless We Go a Little Crazy"). Taken together, they made me wonder just how culturally exhausted we are, that we have nothing at all new to say any more.
Much like this post, regrettably.
Yeeshily,
- Moishe Potemkin