The Getz Files

Samuel Pepys masturbated in church during Christmas Mass, aroused by the sight of the queen and her ladies.

Reference: NYRB.

Years ago, we had a subscription to the London Review of Books. I found it hard to read as all the articles were rather daunting. Now, years later, I have started rereading it (and the New York Review of Books) on the web. Many (though by no means all) the articles are available on the two websites (New York is here, London here), and if one prints out an article, it becomes much more manageable. I have learned a great deal from these articles and find them a great way to fill in gaps in time.

Here are two excellent ones. This review of Jimmy Carter's new book by Garry Wills speaks quite cogently about what's going wrong with America - and how it isn't irretrievable. I might read the book. And this -- What I Heard About Iraq in 2005 by Eliot Weinberger -- is just brilliant. It is the follow-up to his earlier book.

In other news about Carter, according to The Onion, he is being tried for peace crimes and crimes against inhumanity, particularly his regime's reign of tolerance.

The LRB has just been embroiled in controversy over an article it published about the Israel lobby in the US. I tried reading it, but just couldn't manage. I don't recommend it. Rather, read Hitch's refutation (maybe not quite intellectually honest, but anyway). Also, Noam Chomsky has spoken out against the article, though he has his own particular reasons for disagreeing with it.

As far as I can tell, the real secret to living a long time is to move very slowly and never have sex. Just recently, the world's oldest animal died - a 255-year-old tortoise called Adwaita, a lifelong bachelor. Apparently, he had been the pet tortoise of Clive of India in the mid-18th century. The article doesn't say whether Adwaita ever smoked.

I've had a few cultural-ish trips to Rotterdam recently, a city I rather enjoy. Prepare to face bullet points.

• Rotterdam is famous for a few things. Obviously, its port, at one stage the busiest in the world, but still the busiest in Europe. Also, lots of good modern/contemporary architecture (every now and then you come across buildings in the International Style - it's like being in Tel Aviv). It had the first pedestrianised shopping precinct in the world, and was nearly destroyed by the Nazis in WWII. I think only Warsaw took greater damage. Rotterdam has the greatest number of Antilleans in the world outside the Netherlands Antilles (not surprising) and the greatest number of Cape Verdeans outside Cape Verde (quite surprising).
• On my first recent visit, I went to visit Mo, who actually is Dutch and went to university in Rotterdam. He took me to a great place to eat - Cafe New York, which required a lovely little ride on a water taxi. The Cafe is in the Hotel New York, the former home of the Holland-America shipping line -- supposedly the chief line taking European immigrants to America back in the day -- and you get a real feel of old-world grandeur and hustle and bustle - it's in a cavernous room that was I guess once a massive waiting room before you'd get on to the steamship taking you across the ocean. Makes me sorta nostalgic for something I never had.
• Leaving Mo, I then headed to the Wereldmuseum, their ethnographic museum. Some people like this kind of thing, some hate it. I'm in the former school, and this place was special. An incredible collection of artifacts, including kick-ass Polynesian canoes, scary African power figures and other such. These pictures barely do it justice:
  
  
  
  
  
• A word about the above museum, and types thereof. It's true, to a large extent these places are legalised looting. The British Museum is the prime example. Walking around there, two thoughts alternate: Amazing, and The Brits were the greatest thieves ever known to man. On the other hand, the world gets to see these treasures, and I don't see myself going to, eg, Tonga anytime soon to see their masks. The Wereldmuseum kind of alludes to this in their somewhat po-faced but still acceptable mission statement: "It is the desire of the Wereldmuseum Rotterdam to contribute to an intercultural society based on mutual respect. To this end, the museum attempts to familiarize as many people as possible with the worldwide cultural spectrum." Interestingly, while I was there, it had an exhibition on Western portrayals of non-Europeans, which was fascinating - all the stuff you'd imagine, combinations of contempt, fear, admiration, mystique - certainly not a simple relationship.
• Then I went with Micah, my supervisor. First, we saw the Kubus Woningstellen - houses in the shape of upside-down twisted cubes. Very very cool. They're on three storeys and most unusual small, twisty rooms, very odd spaces with most unusual views of the street and the outside world. I think it would be awesome to live in one for a while. The site has some great pictures - have a look.
• We went to the Nederlands Fotomuseum, which was frankly disappointing, though a small exhibit on cremations was mildly diverting. Funniest thing about it was the text accompanying it, which from the third to the sixth sentence talked about how the Dutch are moving more towards cremation because it's cheaper. I'm not saying the Dutch are tightfisted but...
• Then past the Architectural Institute, which is a very cool building - architecture buffs should check out the site.
• Then to another one of those omnibus museums so common in Europe - the Museum Boijmans van Beuningen. Huge collection - lots of Old Masters (inc the Tower of Babel), modern stuff, great exhibit of photos of football pitches by the awesome Hans van der Meer, nice surrealism collection, which included a car made out of leather (don't ask me why, but I loved it). Exhausting going round the whole place, but well worth a trip to the Rot - especially for football fans:

• Then we walked around and checked out some architecture, including Museum Park, designed by Rem Koolhaas (though it isn't really that special).
• Then we came home, exhausted but happy.

So Ellen came last weekend, and we had a lovely time doing some of the major tourist attractions. As is my wont, bullet points are called for.

• On Friday, hit the Rijksmuseum. Certainly one of the great museums in the world, and I have enjoyed myself there tremendously, though at the moment about 75% is closed for restoration, and yet they still charge you the same price. Nonetheless, some good Hals and Vermeer, and the famous big Rembrandts - Nightwatch and Syndics. Great paintings, and they have very nice laminated guides to the paintings pointing out various things to focus on. V helpful to me, who finds just looking at a painting, even a great one, can get old pretty soon. Also, a very enjoyable room with a number of paintings that are the subject of debate as to whether they're by Rembrandt or not (the ultimate arbiter being the very imposing Rembrandt Research Project). Some they know aren't, some they now know are, some they're not sure about. Beneath are three for you to judge whether they're by the great man or not.

• Then a reprise of what I did with my mama - drinks at the very cool bar above the Stedelijke Museum, and another excellent meal at Centra, the Spanish restaurant on Lange Kniezel in the Red Light District. (That's a food recommendation, by the way.)
• Saturday we went to the Gemeentemuseum in The Hague again. I've described it in a previous post, so won't repeat that, but they had a very good exhibition on of Courbet and the 19th Century Nude (called, with great originality, "De Naakte Waarheid" - The Naked Truth). Courbet really was revolutionary; his paintings have so much more life, vitality and realism to them. Apparently, he had a vast collection of pornographic photos, which were unfortunately destroyed after his death. There were some very interesting non-pornographic nude photos. Here's a Courbet nude (it's art, trust me).

• Then we went to the beach at Scheveningen (a placename the Dutch used in WWII to check if people were German spies or not - you need to have been born here to say it right). Lovely beach, long, clean, wide, with many people there already despite a gale-force wind (OK, Beaufort Scale says only fresh breeze, but I don't buy it). Should be v nice in summer.
• On Sunday, we went to the famous Keukenhof gardens. The Dutch, as we all know, are really into their flowers. Keukenhof wasn't fully in bloom, and I imagine it will be extremely impressive when it is, but it was still great. The indoor displays of flowers were incredible -- the variety of flowers people have bred is quite amazing - also, a little scary, all this improving on nature. I also enjoyed the 7 "fantasy gardens", which were set up by purveyors of garden furniture and the like. Will try go back when in fuller bloom.
• The evening was capped off with a short visit to Haarlem, where we were too late to do anything but see the nice church in the middle of town and have a good meal. May go back, but after a while the small Dutch towns start to feel a little same-y.
• And, er, that's that.

Two from Orwell, the first I got from Jonny's signature, the second from My War by Colby Buzzell:

Some things are so absurd they can only be believed by imbeciles and academics.

People sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf.

I have talked quite a bit more than written about it, but I think the western world is totally overreacting to the threat of terrorism. It kills very few people in the West, and only has a real effect on the way we live if we make it so through paranoia and overcautiousness. The threats/changes that are and will become necessary from environmental problems and, I daresay, China, absolutely dwarf that of Islamic terrorism, or indeed all types of terrorism put together. There is nothing new to this and I think I understand why it is - it's the phenomenon called dread risk. Dead risks are, among other things, uncontrollable, involuntary, low probability but catastrophic if they occur. The uncontrollable aspect tends to explain why people fear flying so much more than driving. The WHO has a little schema, which I don't quite agree with, but is interesting nonetheless

One might say, what's wrong with worrying about it - these threats are real. Certainly they are, but it's a matter of priorities. I don't feel like going through all the arguments, but I'll give you one piece of data showing a bad consequence of dread risk. According to a paper published at the Max Planck Institute for Human Development:

I just saw a piece on Reuters' excellent "Oddly Enough" section about a group of Danish security guards who were fired after being caught stealing DVDs and toys from critically ill children at a Danish hospital.

It reminds me a of a story a few years ago that happened in SA, at a hospital in the Free State. Patients on life support in one room kept dying mysteriously, and they couldn't figure out why. Eventually, the truth came out: at night, the cleaner who cleaned that room would come in, unplug the life-support unit and plug in her vacuum cleaner, consigning the patient to oblivion. True story. (Actually, not - here's the Snopes debunking. But I did believe for many years that it was true.)

Also, on Oddly Enough: scientist posits that Jesus actually walked on ice.

We all know that Bob Dylan, Barry Manilow and the Beastie Boys are Jewish. But the world of Jewish rock greats is muc more extensive than that, including Malcolm McLaren (cool!), two members of Anthrax (really cool!) and Gary Lee Weinrib, known to non-family members as Geddy Lee of Rush. Check out the quiz on the site; I'm ashamed to admit I only got 15 out of 20.

From Mother Jones, a great collection of the absurdities of copyright and patent law. (Thanks to But I am a Liberal for the tip.) My favourites:

HUEY NEWTON’S widow is trademarking the phrase “Burn, Baby, Burn” for use as a BBQ sauce slogan.

IN THE LATEST ROUND of a 13-year battle over the title “Surf City USA,” Huntington Beach, Calif., filed for a trademark last year. A state senator from Santa Cruz retorted, “You can’t trademark a state of mind” and proposed a Senate resolution declaring his city to be the real Surf City.

FOR INCLUDING a 60-second piece of silence on their album, the Planets were threatened with a lawsuit by the estate of composer John Cage, which said they’d ripped off his silent work 4’33”. The Planets countered that the estate failed to specify which 60 of the 273 seconds in Cage’s piece had been pilfered.

HOOTERS SUED a competitor for stealing its “trade dress,” i.e., the packaging of its waitresses.

THE PUBLISHER of Super Hero Happy Hour removed “Super” from the comic book title after Marvel and DC Comics stated they own the phrase “super heroes and variations thereof.”

Have a look at Virgin Digital's end-user license agreement - it is absolutely brilliant, and hilarious. The first para is boring, but then it improves no end. All IP law should be like this.

Well, it's been so long that I've been neglecting blogging duties that you are in for a treat - an omnibus version of recent books. Some damn fine ones as well.

Some time ago, I saw Jarhead, which I thoroughly enjoyed. (I'll be reviewing that later.) Inspired by that, I bought the book. I like good war books and this is a good one, well-written and savvy. It has all the fun details about military training that some of us find most interesting (partly inspired by the all-but-certain knowledge that I've escaped that and will never have to undergo it). There's lots of humour and I felt it captured the reality of being a soldier very well. It's also a bit disjointed, and (like the movie) leaves you thinking, what's the point? But I say that not as a criticism - a book about Gulf War I that has a strong narrative arc, or clear moral/message/conclusion would be more than a little false. Strongly recommended for those interested in war/fighting/soldiers, and for aficionados of the memoir. In that last respect, it reminded me of Wiseguy, a great book made into one of the best movies of all time -- Goodfellas (and don't argue with me about that).

Also, a weird coincidence - Jarhead is written by Anthony Swofford; Toni Morrison's real name is Chloe Anthony Wofford. How weird is that?

So, after reading and enthusing about Jarhead, Jonny gave me a book about Gulf War II (as a present to me on his birthday) - My War by Colby Buzzell. Jonny said it was interesting, but not great. I respectfully disagree - I think it's awesome. This guy, of course, has been involved in a lot of real fighting, and the way he describes it is pretty frightening. He captures the incredibly confusing and shocking nature of a firefight extremely well, along with all the other stupid shit soldiers do. It's extremely cynical, which again strikes me as honest and spot-on. A little connection to what I'm doing -- in one episode, the US soldiers are being fired at from the minaret of a mosque, so they fire back. I'm thinking, "Aha! Geneva Conventions say religious buildings are protected, but lose their protected character if used for hostile actions, which shooting certainly is - so it's all fine." Then Buzzell, to his credit, says, "Hang on - isn't there a Geneva Convention that covers this." Also read something which quite impressed me - in the US army base cinema in Mosul, one of the movies they played was Fahrenheit 9/11.

An interesting aspect of the book is that Buzzell was blogging in Iraq (this is his blog) and he writes about the issues the military hierarchy had with it, which, all things considered, weren't that bad. All in all, an excellent, gripping book.

Read a couple new books by recommended pulpish authors, one much better than the other. Last Car to Elysian Fields by James Lee Burke, a celebrated author of New Orleans detective fiction was OK, nothing more. All the expected ambiguity, detective wisecracking, convoluted plot. A couple interesting subplots, but overall I found the writing and the plot somewhat overwrought. If the only two books in the house are a Burke and a Sidney Sheldon, read the Burke, but that's about as far as I'll recommend it.

Shutter Island, by Dennis Lehane, is another story altogether. Lehane, who wrote Mystic River (the link is to the movie), has been getting a lot more acclaim recently, which I think is well-deserved, at least on the basis of this book. A thriller set on an island with a psychiatric prison in the 1950s, it's terrific. Fantastic pace, great hard-boiled style, extremely tightly written, riveting - and with a very good twist, which I didn't see coming until a page or two before it was revealed. (Though I'm not very perceptive - I can never figure out who did it in Agatha Christies.) I'm looking forward to reading more of him.

Another writer new to me is Haruni Marukami, whom Rich has been touting for years. I finally succumbed, and read Norwegian Wood, and am very glad I did. It is a very quiet, still novel, which took me some time, but left me with a great feeling of both sadness and warmth. Apparently, this book is quite unlike his others (supposedly weird and very complex), and made him a star in Japan, which he isn't quite comfortable with - he left Japan for 8 years. One of the best love stories I've ever read. I'll be reading more Marukami.

Sticking with fiction, but on more familiar ground, I read William Boyd's latest collection of short stories, Fascination. Boyd is an interesting writer. Some of his books have been magnificent -- Brazzaville Beach is one of the best books about animals (primates, to be more precise) I've read; The New Confessions is a real tour de force and beats the socks off Augustine and Rousseau (interestingly, a lot of people hated this book) -- some really haven't -- Blue Afternoon was totally forgettable and I have come to the conclusion that Any Human Heart was largely tosh. These short stories are similar - some are excellent, but some just don't cut it. They tend to be quite experimental as all are very short, which is difficult to do, so gimmicks sometimes overshadow everything else. But there is some stuff of real interest here. I would advise going to a bookshop and reading these: Adult Video, The Woman on a Beach with a Dog, Lunch, Incandescence, The Ghost of a Bird, The Mind/Body Problem.

I also tried China Mieville's Iron Council, but regrettably admit that I had to give it up after about 300 pages (setting a new record for me). It was too disjointed and hard to follow, and I thought the plot moved along too slowly. The same criticisms can be made of the previous book of his I read, Perdido Street Station, but that one rewarded the effort. Perhaps I preferred it because it was my first introduction to the fantasy world he's created; perhaps he was more energetic with it, I'm not sure. Both are very political, which I'd say is a good thing in fantasy, but Iron Council never engaged me - maybe it was just too sophisticated and complex. It's won great plaudits, though. I would definitely recommend Perdido Street, but if your temperament is like mine, give Iron Council a miss. (One reviewer said he admired it more than he liked it - I think that's fair.)

Incidentally, while I was ploughing through the start of the book, it occurred to me how difficult beginnings of novels frequently are for the reader, particularly so in fantasy and science fiction, where one is being taken into a new world. Perhaps that is why the most successful fantasy books start off in a very recognisable world, so things aren't too forbidding for the reader - think Harry Potter, Narnia, His Dark Materials (if you haven't read that trilogy, drop what you're doing and go read it now!), even The Hobbit - apart from the fact that hobbits are short and have hairy feet, the start of the book could easily be in an English village.

The final piece of fiction was Judge Savage by Tim Parks, which I read because I enjoyed A Season in Verona so much. The book is enjoyable, not brilliant, but quite readable and thoughtful, though a touch implausible in places, and it just fizzles out at the end. Still, I'll probably read more of Parks.

Finally, some non-fiction quick bites. Why Not Me? by Al Franken, about his (oh how I wish it were real) campaign to become President in 2000, is very funny, as is everything by him. Always good for a laugh is Franken, and he's a good liberal too (which is why a site by some of his despicable political opponents have a site excoriating him which they call "the Official website of Al Franken" - and I ain't providing a link).

How to Lose Friends and Alienate People by Toby Young is also great fun - his story of how he was a total wastrel and tosser while at Vanity Fair in New York and eventually got fired. I really enjoyed it and recommend it to everyone. (I laughed a lot while reading it, and we could all do with laughing more.) Young seems a total prick, but very funny and self-aware as well - he claims to have negative charisma.

Finally, a real surprise - Cally once recommended John McPhee to me, but he seemed a bit dry and worthy. Then I read a great New Yorker piece by him about coal trains, so decided to get the next one I saw, which was The Survival of the Bark Canoe. How dry is that, eh? Well, it's actually fantastic. It's about the history of bark canoes, the very few people who make them, and a canoe trip with one of them. It's very weird and goes in all kinds of unexpected directions. Totally different way of looking at the world - I loved it, and will read more.

So, that's not bad - three new writers to enjoy, even a candidate or two for my best personal non-fiction list. I'm exhausted now; I bet if you read all of this, you are too. Well, as soon as you've recovered, why not try some of the above?

Somewhat overshadowed by the showboat in the jail (see below), the first decision that I was very involved in the writing came out on Friday. The full decision is here (if you read it, skip the procedural background - it's not that interesting), but I'll give you a precis.

Ramush Haradinaj, a former commander of the Kosovo Liberation Army and then Prime Minister of Kosovo, was indicted by the ICTY in March for various crimes. After he surrendered himself and was taken to The Hague, he applied for provisional release (bail), which was granted. He then applied to have the terms of the release varied so he could participate in politics, to the extent that UNMIK, the UN body that basically administers Kosovo, said would be good for the development of Kosovo. That was also granted, but the prosecution appealed, so we in Appeals had to decide whether those conditions were appropriate.

It was a really interesting case to work on, as it implicated the politics of Kosovo, the law of provisional release, restrictions on prisoners, and delegation, which is a fairly new topic to international law. We* decided, 3-2, after much backwards and forwards, that the new provisional release was OK, but we appended some additional conditions to it. I'm proud to have been involved with the decision.

* It's a pleasure to be able to say "we" rather than "the Appeals Chamber". Our writing style here is a bit stuffy, so it's always "The Appeals Chamber will now..." or "The Appeals Chamber considers..." It sounds a bit pompous, if you ask me (but nobody does). Apart from that, it must also be said that there are a lot of fine legal minds and excellent drafters here.

Well, it's been a while, but now that the initial whatever has dies done, I can give my impressions, thoughts about the death of Mr Milosevic.

My first impression when I heard he died was, "So he really was sick." It wasn't just a ruse. I have since noted all the "controversy" surrounding his death, with some small depression, but no surprise at all. After all, he was a highly divisive figure, and the media have a vested interest in conflict and controversy. But still, people - he had been sick for ages, he had heart problems, he was in jail, and he was undergoing a pretty stressful trial. Occam's Razor, and all - he had a heart attack and died.

I really love the Russians on this one - he should have come to Russia, then all would have been fine. Now, I'm not carrying any torch for the Dutch healthcare system, but if you had to give me a choice between being treated in Holland and in Russia, I know what I'd choose.

I really feel for those of my colleagues who've been working on the case, though, some of them for more than 5 years. All that work now seems for nothing, and the main topic of the week has been shredding. It wasn't worthless, of course - a lot of the stories came out, there were some important decisions, and this established an important principle. It also taught us some lessons - the trial was too long, so maybe it's better not to load up every possible charge. (However, Saddam's trial, which is exactly the opposite, concentrating on one discrete and, in the context of his crimes, not particularly horrific event, really isn't the way to go either.)

I do wonder how the other defendants in the detention unit are feeling. These are exactly the kind of people who will believe paranoid theories about poisoning etc. I'm sure some are quite nervous. And don't forget, another defendant, Babic, killed himself recently.

Predictably, the press were out in force on the first few days of the week, wielding cameras, mikes, booms, etc. I was sorely tempted to go outside and say, "Psst. I know what really happened."

From my point of view, it doesn't change anything - I'm working on quite different cases (to do with Rwandan genocide, the siege of Sarajevo, and the Kosovo Liberation Army). It's actually quite ironic - I was supposed to move onto the Milosevic trial, but I asked to stay in Appeals. Looks quite prescient now.

From Churchill, on the occasion of Chamberlain's death:

In one phase men seem to have been right, in another they seem to have been wrong. Then again, a few years later, when the perspective of time has lengthened, all stands in a different setting. There is a new proportion. There is another scale of values. History with its flickering lamp stumbles along the trail of the past, trying to reconstruct its scenes, to revive its echoes, and kindle with pale gleams the passion of former days.

Even better than Holmes's "[T]ime has upset many fighting faiths."

The League Cup matters, doesn't it? I mean, all 92 League clubs take part in it! Its winners include such luminaries as United (twice - whoo-hoo!), Liverpool, the Arse, Swindon Town! It can get you into Europe! It's at the Millennium Stadium! Princess Anne gives out the prize! Really, it's very, very important!





(At least we won something.)

Thus quoth Slartibartfast. Was he right? There's been quite a lot of renaming in SA in the last few years, which is to be expected. I generally have no problem with it. I really don't mind that Pretoria is now Tshwane and Bloemfontein now Mangaung -- I had no stake in those names. I understand that others might not like it, but in some sense vae victis, and when you consider what we (whites) have managed to hang on to, I don't think it's a big deal that a few names change. We've also got used to the disappearance of the Transvaal without too much difficulty. (Though the existence of 2.2m webpages with Transvaal in them (to be sure, Gauteng has 6.4m pages) suggests that there are still a few hanging on to the old name. Transvaal.co.za is, not surprisingly, about rugby...)

I don't mind that they changed Jan Smuts airport to Johannesburg International Airport, but I sometimes wish they hadn't - I miss the old name, which I was used to, and I think there are good things to say about Smuts (in a non-South African context, he was the only man to serve on both Imperial War Cabinets, and he basically wrote the League of Nations Charter, as detailed in Margaret Macmillan's superb Peacemakers). And if you're going to change the name, why not give it an interesting name? Johannesburg International is so boring. If they didn't want a contentious name, why not something like Highveld or Golden Gateway or Reef, or even Peace & Freedom, which I think would be a very cool name for an airport? Or revive an old name from elsewhere, like Idlewild or Kai Tak.

A while back, we had a real problem with boring names: three of the new provinces had North in the title, which was totally pathetic. At least Northern Province has since changed its name to Limpopo, which I heartily approve of, but North West should get its act together. I suggest Mafikeng (or is it Mafeking), Near-Bot or Platinumania (most of the world's platinum comes from that province).

In Durban, they wanted to rename Point Road after Gandhi, who got his legal and human rights start there. Good idea, right? Big road, nobody remembers now who Mr. Point was. But the Indian community wasn't happy as Point Road has become a hangout of prostitutes and drug dealers. Ha ha. So the plan was dropped. Funny BBC story here.

Naming issues also matter in football (and other less important sports). I am dead set against stadiums named after sponsors -- too much commercialisation really is a bad thing. Much as I detest the Gooners, I think it's a real shame that they are calling their new stadium not Highbury, or New Highbury, but Emirates Stadium. And I don't think it's at all cool that Rangers, whom I like even less, are renaming Ibrox T-Mobile stadium. United better not do something like that.

Arsenal have also just signed a deal with Israel's Tourism Ministry to advertise in the ground. The Arse, showing that their cravenness is more real than apparent, asked the United Arab Emirates if that would be OK with them. (Jared, a fanatical Gooner, comments: "Arsenal Football Club is in the process of solving the Middle East crisis. ") It could be worse - Juventus, showing themselves to be both craven and anti-Semitic, actually cancelled a deal with the tourism ministry after sponsor Tamoil, a Libyan oil company, objected. So don't tell me sports and politics don't mix.

I'm not generally much of a film festival person. I used to be when I was younger, but have become somewhat disenchanted with them for a couple of reasons. First, your chance of seeing a really crap movie is pretty high. Second, they're just movies. I know that may sound heretical, but experientially there really isn't much of a difference between seeing a movie under regular circumstances and seeing one at a festival, except, as I said, for the higher likelihood of seeing a bad movie at the festival.

Nevertheless, there can be something to being surrounded by loads of (other?) pretentious people who want to look as if they care about art. And occasionally film festivals have interesting programmes. Hence, I found myself a few weeks ago at the Rotterdam International Film Festival. I had a particular purpose, however. The festival has an annual series of "Hot Spots", showcasing three cities where exciting (or whatever) movies are made. This year, the cities were Vilnius, Mexico City and Jo'burg - so I had to go and represent. (Interestingly, if I'm from Jo'burg and my ancestors are from Vilnius or thereabouts, where does Mexico City fit in the picture?)

The evening I went to was a bunch of short films, chats with the artistes (emphasis on the e) and a couple live poetry/rap/spoken word/music performances. And oy, were some of them bad. Peter van Heerden's So is n' Os Gemaak featured him hanging naked, hairy and dirty from a kind of scaffold by the Settler Monument in Grahamstown. However, I was pleasantly surprised by how good some of them were, particularly a 2-minute film about Lady Godiva, and Jaco Bouwer's I Love You Jet Li, which was a very funny narrative about a girl who falls in love with Jet Li and flies to China to find him, with filming of Jan Smuts Johannesburg International Airport*. Good poetry and singing from Ntsiki Mazwai and Shamiel X, who did a long diatribe on hip-hop. The first part, what hip-hop is not, was great fun, pacy, inventive, energetic, iconoclastic. But the second half, what hip hop is, was so right-on, "inclusive" and unthinkingly kneejerk leftie it made me want to throw up. Actual line: Hip hop is honouring indigenous people. (I guess that's where "hip" comes from; maybe "hop" stands for helping old people.)

Anyway, my point is that film festivals and short films aren't unremittingly awful. And that some people are better at saying what they oppose than what they stand for (ie, me).

* On renaming in South Africa, see above.

...with Sarah Silverman. For those who don't know her, she is a brilliant Jewish comedian, whose first film is Jesus is Magic. Gotta love the title (though, as a poster to IMDB points out, Moses is magic too). She was amazing in The Aristocrats, which is one of the funniest movies I've ever seen. Its tagline is No Nudity, No Violence, Unspeakable Obscenity - run, don't walk to rent a copy of it. So anyway, to get a taste of the wonder that is Sarah, here are a few of her very funny clips.

There are plenty of lyrics sites out there for those who are into that sort of thing (ie, me), but I just came across a good interactive one, where people write what the songs mean a) in fact and b) to their own warped minds: Songmeanings. This is indeed one of the finest procrastinosites I have come across. Things I have learned: Mercy Street is about Anne Sexton. (Actually, every Peter Gabriel song seems to be about something or someone very specific.) Architects (or at least one architect) think REM's Fall on Me is about "the deterioration of quality in architectural design". Bruce Springsteen fans are more articulate than Sex Pistols fans.

Finally, if anyone can tell me which song the title of this post comes from (and Googling is cheating), I'll give them a year's subscription to The Getz Files.

December's Harper's wasn't all doom and gloom. It also had some excellent children's errors, collected by the redoubtable Richard Lederer. I know we've all read plenty before, but some of these are really fresh and excellent:

• The law of gravity says no fair jumping up without coming back down.
• Some oxygen molecules help fires burn while others help make water, so sometimes it's brother against brother.
• Proteins are composed of a mean old acid.
• Clouds atre high-flying fogs. I am not sure how clouds get formed. But the clouds know how to do it, and that is the most important thing. Clouds just keep circling the earth around and around. And around. There is not much else to do.
• The wind is like the air, only pushier.
• The pistol of a flower is its only protection against insects.

Still playing (for Newcastle), unbelievably

Just got my hands on December's Harper's, which has an insightful, truly frightening article about China, its "industrial revolution" and the environment. I cannot but think that this is the biggest challenge facing the world going forward.

According to the writer, China has more than 100 cities with 1 million inhabitants. It is adding an urban infrastructure equivalent to Houston every month. Environmental degradation, poisoning of natural resources, is becoming commonplace. There may be up to 70,000 protests in China every year, many of them about toxic factories. Every year, it adds the equivalent of Brazil's entire generating capacity to its electrical grid, but 24 of 31 provinces had power shortages in 2004. China already produces 16% of the world's CO2, against the US's 25%, and will overtake the US sometime in the next 25 years.

What's really scary is how difficult it will be to reverse any of this: massive processes like urbanisation and industrialisation are so hard to turn around, for any number of reasons, including inertia, human behaviour, sociology and even morality - why shouldn't the Chinese get the benefits of modernity?

The argument (upheld 95-0 by the US Senate in 1997 and by the pusillanimous John Kerry in 2004*) that this means China has to make the same cutbacks as the developed world in Kyoto and other instruments like it, also doesn't wash. For one, it's hard to see how China really could. For another, as the author (Bill McKibben) eloquently writes:



As he says, this means we face an actual tragedy "because, right now, a rapidly growing China is actually accomplishing some measurable good with its growth. People are enjoying some meat, sending their brothers to school, heating their huts." And he doesn't see America making major changes to its way of life (I don't either).

I have no suggestions. I just feel it's terribly depressing.


* The same pathetic man, remember, who didn't mention Guantanamo once in his "campaign".

A lot of friends have had great joys in their life recently, and I thought I'd share them with y'all.

• Elyse and Alan had their first child, Annika.
• Jason and Ilana had their first child, Gad.
• Jorge and Leyla had their third child and first son, Jorge (who is thus Jorge Peña III).
• Greg and Bianca got married.
• Stephen and Jenny christened Sam (more on that later).

Mazeltov to all of them!

"... persecution complex. I've had it. David* must stop calling himself my friend."

Spken (probably predictably) by an Englishman.

* Names have been changed to protect the guilty.