Russia set to ban queer propaganda

How do you feel about this photo, gentle reader? Call me a homophobe if you will, but it fills me with revulsion. In plain words, it makes me want to puke. But we -- and our children -- are exposed to images like this every day. 1000s of them. In the print media, on TV, in movies, on billboards -- everywhere you look.

It's all LGBT propaganda, designed and published by the queers -- they don't mind being called that, nowadays -- to force their "gay rights" agenda down or throats or up our nether orifices.

In this, they have the support and encouragement of very powerful people. There's the lamestream media, the liberal "intelligentsia" and the "progressive thinkers", dominated by members of a certain religion which I must not name for fear of an attack by the JDL. And then there are the politicians who are not members of the tribe, but who know whose asses to kiss to get elected.

Or re-elected. Just today I heard the Prez rabbitting on again about how "we" are going to finish what "we" started, including the strengthening of "gay marriage rights".

In Ontario, former education minister Kathleen Wynne -- a proud lesbian mentioned here before -- is regarded (by the Toronto Red Star, of course) as a serious contender to take over the leadership of the governing Liberal Party. She would thus become Canada's first openly lesbian premier. One of her first priorities would doubtless be to reinstate her pro-LGBT curriculum for Ontario's schools, so that little straight children can be taught that it's not just OK, but desirable to be queer. Yes, and have sex with vegetables too.
What is the goal of all this? Dear readers, it's not just to make deviant behaviour legal and socially acceptable. The aim is nothing less than the destruction of western society. That is what those controlling the media and "popular opinion" really want.

Don't believe me? Consider the decline and fall of the Roman Empire. One of the great themes of Edward Gibbon's classic work is that the greatest empire the world had ever known succumbed to barbarian invasions due to the gradual loss of virtue -- civic, military and personal -- among its citizens. The Rome of the 3rd and 4th centuries A.D. was rife with corruption and depravity. It was not just immoral but amoral. No-one cared about anything except the pursuit of pleasure. Thus it was ripe and ready for the scourge of the barbarian hordes.

The West finds itself in the same position today -- prone -- and America is no exception. Nor is the mainstream Church, which some would say has already been corrupted by the very same vices which we are told are not really sinful at all. Just "alternative lifestyles" or "different strokes for different strokes" -- that's all.

The government of one -- just one -- nominally Christian country has finally decided that enough is enough. That nation is Russia, whose rulers, with the support of the Orthodox Church, have introduced legislation which will make it illegal to provide minors with "propaganda of sodomy, lesbianism, bisexuality and transgenderism." If it happened in Ontario -- wishful thinking -- it would be called the Anti-Wynne Act.

The proposed law, which is all but certain of enactment, includes a ban on holding public events that promote gay rights. St. Petersburg and a number of other Russian cities recently put similar statutes on the books to prohibit "Gay Pride parades", long promoted in the West but still something of a novelty in the former Communist bloc.

The bill is part of an effort to promote traditional Russian values as opposed to Western liberalism, which the Kremlin and church see as corrupting Russian youth. "Progressive thinkers" inside and outside Russia are already wringing their hands and hissing with horror, but (Associated Press reports) most "average Russians" are reacting with either indifference or open enthusiasm.

Polls conducted last year show that almost two-thirds of Russians find homosexuality "morally unacceptable and worth condemning." About half are against gay rallies and same-sex marriage. Almost a third think homosexuality is the result of "a sickness or a psychological trauma,".

Unlike in America, Britain and Canada, Russia's political and religious elite share Ivan Sixpack's hostility to homosexuality. Lawmakers have accused gays of decreasing Russia's already low birth rates and said they should be barred from government jobs, undergo forced medical treatment or be exiled.

Orthodox activists have criticized PepsiCo for using a "gay" rainbow on cartons of its dairy products. An executive with a government-run TV network said in a nationally televised talk show that gays should be prohibited from donating blood, sperm and organs for transplants, while after death their hearts should be burned or buried.

The sponsors of the bill say minors need to be protected from "homosexual propaganda" because they are unable to evaluate the information critically. In the words of the bill, "This propaganda goes through the mass media and public events that propagate homosexuality as normal behavior."

Our last word on the subject -- for today -- comes from Rev. Sergiy Rybko, an Orthodox priest. Although Ed. has not been able to track down the original quote, AP says Father Rybko told the online magazine Orthodoxy and World, "Until this scum gets off of Russian land, I fully share the views of those who are trying to purge our motherland of it. We either become a tolerant Western state where everything is allowed – and lose our Christianity and moral foundations – or we will be a Christian people who live in our God-protected land in purity and godliness."

Now there's a strong and thoroughly un-PC statement. I wish I'd said it. Better yet, I wish our Catholic bishops would say it. Amen.

Zoophilia still practised in Canada and Germany

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Where's Walt?

Ed. here. Walt has gone north(ish) for the start of the National Hockey League's abbreviated season, later today. If Toronto beats Montréal in the Canadiens' home opener, he will probably sulk for a couple of days. Otherwise he will return, errr, soon.

When the train is in the station, please refrain from defecation

From its earliest days, the New York Times prided itself on publishing "all the news that's fit to print". That left any news that was unfit to print to the likes of the now-defunct Herald, the World (original sponsor of the World Series -- geddit?), and, in the 21st century, the New York Post. Here's an interesting item from today's Post.

As is generally known, New York subway cars are not equipped with bathrooms -- or "toilets", as such conveniences are known in most of the world. So being "caught short" can be a serious problem. Where can one find a suitable spot in which to answer the call of nature?

Maunce Dulcio, 31, of the Bronx, found out the hard way that squatting between two subway cars is not the answer. Dulcio, whom the NYPD described as having been "very intoxicated", won a Darwin award on Tuesday afternoon when he fell to the tracks while defecating. He was struck by a speeding train and died with his boots on, but his pants down.

The incident occurred in Manhattan, near the East 125th Street platform, only a few days after a transit workers' union issued literature telling subway operators to "slow down when entering stations."

POSTscript (Geddit?): The Times had the story too, but its version was kind of crappy.

Updates and miscellany

As I write, Flt Lt Ace McCool and his crew are winging their way eastward to Mali. They are flying the Royal Canadian Air Force's backup Globemaster, not the one that got stuck on the runway at CFB Trenton this morning. That's all ye know and all ye need to know about the capabilities of the Canadian Armed Forces.

Quick, what do you call the 600th anniversary of something? The 200th is a bicentennial. The 300th is a tricentennial. After that it all gets a little hazy. I hope a reader will enlighten me, though, because this year marks the 600th anniversary of a significant development in English Common Law. Read on.

How are you described in your will or on your title deed. In much of the UK, USA and Canada you are probably identified by your given and surnames, as well as your place of residence and your occupation. Like this: Walter Whiteman, of the City of Springfield and County of Nassau, Orthoepist.

We owe that very specific form of description to the Statute of Additions, enacted in England in 1413. [Yes, Kramer. It's "statute", not "statue". Ed.] Happy whatever-ennial.

In my review of Bill Bryson's Mother Tongue, I pointed out that the author speaks -- rather a lot, actually -- of two of the Anglo-Saxon words for the female genitalia. The more common of the two was, in Chaucer's day, relatively harmless, certainly not the C-bomb that it has become today. Speaking of C-bombs, though, Bryson tells us later in the same book that the corresponding word in Danish is "cock". Can any Danish-speaking reader verify this? Sounds like a cock-and-bull story to me.

Mal y soit qui Mali pense

You remember Mali, don't you? The Not-so-inevitable Mitt mentioned it twice during one of the debates. No-one knew, including the Prez, knew what he was talking about. But now we know.

Turns out Mali is a landlocked "nation" in part of the former French West Africa, a half-vast expanse of sand and not much else, shared rather grudgingly by Tuareg Arabs to the north and blacker people to the southwest.

For the last few months, militant Islamists -- part of the African arm of al Qaeda -- have been pushing southward, aiming to overthrow the black(ish) government and take over the country. Their success this month attracted the attention of the former colonial masters, who decided to send in the Foreign Legion. [Really? Does the Foreign Legion still exist? Ed.]

Well, maybe not, but the French Air Force certainly exists and last week started bombing the shit out of rebel-held villages and other "military targets". The governments of Britain and the USA have offered to hold the French coats, so to speak. Calls have gone out for African forces to intervene, but your typical African dictator is loth to send troops he needs at home to protect him from a coup.

And that is why the president of Gabon, who also heads up the so-called African Union, went to Canada earlier this month. Canada should do something, he told Prime Minister Harpoon, because Canadians speak French [Maybe. Ed.] besides which Defence Minister Mackay had already said Canada would send in the Mounties... Or something.

What the Gabonese president didn't know is that even as his plane was landing, Harper had yanked Machackey's chain, telling him to cover up not just his mouth but also his ears lest Canadians realize there's nothing in between them. Said the organ-grinder said to the monkey, "Remember Afghanistan? We won't be doing that again!"

Enter Robert Fowler, a Canadian dip who managed to get himself and a "colleague" kidnapped by those damn Islamists a couple of years ago, and was only ransomed at the cost of several barrels of maple syrup which the Arabs mistook for sweet oil. Fowler thought it disgraceful that Canada should abandon its commitment to international peacekeeping, the poor and downtrodden Africans, and so forth.

So... This weekend Harper agreed that at least a token effort should be made, in the name of peace, democracy, the war on terror, and so forth. The Canucks are sending 1 (one, une, uno) C-17 transport to help the French with a bit of the (literal) heavy lifting. It left CFB Trenton just minutes ago, and Agent 3 reports that he just saw it fly over his house, which means it's going the wrong way.

Machackey, ever eager to curry favour with the boss, will announce this afternoon that the Royal Canadian Navy will send three ships -- HMCS Nina, HMCS Pinta and HMCS Santa Maria -- to provide further support. Has the minister forgotten that Mali is landlocked? (See above). Well, no. That's where the C-17 comes in. It will be used to carry the frigits [check spelling please] from the Atlantic to wherever Mali is.

Watch WWW for more stories of French-Canadian co-operation and derring-do.

CORRECTION! Agent 3 has just advised that it was not the RCAF C-17 that he saw overhead. The plane destined for Mali is apparently stuck on the runway at CFB Trenton. Mr. Harper, did you get that? God is trying to tell you something!

"Mother Tongue": a great book about the world's greatest language

WARNING! "Dirty words"!
This book review contains two four-letter Anglo-Saxon monosyllables relating to a part of the female anatomy. If you're the kind of person who never looked up "dirty words" in the dictionary as a kid, read no further.

Someone who speaks several languages is multilingual.
Someone who speaks two languages is bilingual.
Someone who speaks only one language is English.

Indeed. English... or American. Most other countries seem to have accepted the altogether sensible concept that having a second (and third or fourth) language enriches a person, figuratively if not literally.

Not native English speakers. Those who are fortunate enough to have the language of Shakespeare as their mother tongue seem to subscribe to the belief of an American evangelical preacher who told his flock that "if English was good enough for Jesus, it's good enough for me!"

Many English speakers seem to think that if anyone's going to learn a new language, let it be the NON-English speakers. And the rest of the world seems to agree. In China alone, there are more people learning -- or attempting to learn -- English than there are English speakers in America. 99% of them will wind up speaking Chinglish, but at least they're trying.

I am fortunate to be a native speaker of English. I learned it at my mother's knee and other low joints. My mother was a teacher of the Queen's English, the queen being Victoria. From her -- my mother, not the queen -- I inherited a high regard for proper English usage. And from reading the work of good writers I developed admiration for clever and creative writing.

By "good writers" I mean the likes of Mark Twain, H.L. Mencken, Dr. Hunter S. Thompson, P.J. O'Rourke, and the inimitable Bill Bryson. One thinks of Mr. Bryson as a travel writer; indeed, most of his better books have been about travel. (African Diary sucked, but that was a charitable project and I think Bryson didn't put a lot of time or effort into it.)

But Bryson has more strings to his bow than travel writing. He is quite the cunning linguist, with a keen interest in the English language. And he has written a fine book about it, called Mother Tongue (William Morrow 1990; Penguin 1991).

Mother Tongue is not a dull book of rules for English grammar and spelling. Although it does contain chapters on both topics, it is both fascinating and laugh-out-loud funny. It is filled with trivia about not just things (words) but people.

For instance, Bryson paints an unflattering portrait of Noah Webster, who appears to have been quite an unpleasant man.

He worked tirelessly turning out endless hectoring books and tracts, as well as working on the more or less constant revision of his spelling and dictionaries. In between time he wrote impassioned letters to congressmen, dabbled in politics, proffered unwanted advice to presidents, led his church choir, lectured to large audiences, helped found Amherst College, and produced a sanitized version of the Bible in which Onan doesn't spill his seed but simple 'frustrates his purpose', in which men don't have testicles but rather 'peculiar members', and in which women don't have wombs (or evidently anything else with which to contribute to the reproductive process).

Of course Bryson does talk about the marvellous English vocabulary, about the words... All of the words, including two words for the female pudenda. Readers of Chaucer, he tells us, will frequently encounter "cunt", one of the seven words George Carlin said you can't say on TV.

Brits will know, but Americans may not, that there is a slightly milder Anglo-Saxon monosyllabic synonym, "twat", which was used by such illustrious writers as the poet Robert Browning, in Pippa Passes.
Then, owls and bats,
Cowls and twats,
Monks and nuns, in a cloister's moods
Adjourn to the oak-stump pantry.

Although it had the same meaning in 1841 as it does now, Browning somehow thought "twat" meant a piece of headgear for nuns. Bryson writes:
The verse became a source of twittering amusement for generations of schoolboys and a perennial embarrassment to their elders, but the word was never altered and Browning was allowed to live out his life in wholesome ignorance because no one could think of a suitably delicate way of explaining the mistake to him.

Walt agrees entirely with Ruth Rendell, whose review in the Sunday Times calls Mother Tongue "anecdotal, full of revelations, and with not one dull paragraph". Lovers of the English language will love this book.

Footnote: George Carlin said there are no dirty words, only dirty thoughts.