Western forces fighting in southern Afghanistan had a problem. Too often, soldiers on patrol passed an older man walking hand-in-hand with a pretty young boy. Their behavior suggested he was not the boy’s father. Then, British soldiers found that young Afghan men were actually trying to “touch and fondle them,” military investigator AnnaMaria Cardinalli told me. “The soldiers didn’t understand.”

[. . .]

Sociologists and anthropologists say the problem results from perverse interpretation of Islamic law. Women are simply unapproachable. Afghan men cannot talk to an unrelated woman until after proposing marriage. Before then, they can’t even look at a woman, except perhaps her feet. Otherwise she is covered, head to ankle.

“How can you fall in love if you can’t see her face,” 29-year-old Mohammed Daud told reporters. “We can see the boys, so we can tell which are beautiful.”

Even after marriage, many men keep their boys, suggesting a loveless life at home. A favored Afghan expression goes: “Women are for children, boys are for pleasure.” Fundamentalist imams, exaggerating a biblical passage on menstruation, teach that women are “unclean” and therefore distasteful. One married man even asked Cardinalli’s team “how his wife could become pregnant,” her report said. When that was explained, he “reacted with disgust” and asked, “How could one feel desire to be with a woman, who God has made unclean?”

It’s a telling point that western troops were committed to Afghanistan without being fully briefed on the social customs of the people for whom and among whom they’d be doing their jobs. Ignorance isn’t a solid basis for any kind of trust, and without gaining the trust of locals, the troops will always be at a severe informational disadvantage.

The Pogues have announced a “farewell tour” for the UK, much to the consternation of their guitarist. Phil Chevron has blasted notices for the goodbye tour, calling it “a marketing ploy” by others in the band. “This claim does not come from me,” he wrote on the group’s website, “and I will neither be supporting it nor discussing it.”

The seven-date tour begins in Glasgow and ends on 21 December in Brixton, with reported Irish gigs earlier in the month. These concerts will close the band’s 28th year, and their ninth since frontman Shane MacGowan re-formed the folk-punk rabble-rousers. But despite the flier’s unequivocal “Farewell Christmas Tour” tag-line, the Pogues don’t exactly seem ready to say farewell.

Not long after Chevron’s grumpy post to the official message-board, bandmate Spider Stacy popped in with a clarification. “This is the last Christmas tour for the foreseeable future,” he wrote. “That’s not to say we won’t be showing up at festivals here and there or maybe even the odd gig around the UK and Ireland and certainly in Europe. But we’re tired of dragging our weary, freezing carcasses around these drowning islands every December, so we’re going to give it a rest before you get tired of it, too. Go and see the Libertines. They’re the best.”

Shows how much attention I’d been paying . . . I thought 1996′s “Pogue Mahone” was the last album they’d recorded, and that they’d pretty much stopped performing. Off to Wikipedia . . .

The Pogues is a band of mixed Irish and English background, playing traditional Irish music with influences from punk rock and folk, formed in 1982 and fronted by Shane MacGowan. The band reached international prominence in the 1980s and early 1990s. MacGowan left the band in 1991 due to drinking problems but the band continued first with Joe Strummer and then with Spider Stacy on vocals before breaking up in 1996. The band reformed in 2001, and has been playing regularly ever since, most notably on the US East Coast every spring (bar 2010) and around the UK and Ireland every December. The group has yet to record any new music and according to Spider Stacy on Pogues.com has no inclination to do so.

That explains it nicely.

Some people think I’m strange for my renaissance fencing interests, but at least I don’t combine my odd combat tastes with horseback riding like Jordan and Stephanie do!

As US motor mammoth GM gears up for the launch of its plug-in hybrid Chevrolet Volt, it has applied to trademark the term “range anxiety” — meaning the fear suffered by battery-car owners regarding their ability to get home again after a given journey. Upstart battery car maker Tesla Motors has issued a panicky and unconvincing statement in response.

[. . .]

GM feels that “range anxiety” is a major reason why its original EV-1 battery car of the 1990s failed.

”We’ve been here before,” says GM marketing honcho Joel Ewanick. “We have first-hand experience with what the issues are.”

In short, the difficulty with an all-electric battery car is that there is little certainty of actually being able to complete any journey even close to the vehicle’s rated range, as battery endurance is highly variable — and manufacturers can’t publicise the worst-case (or even perhaps the likely-case) figures. If they did, nobody would ever buy their products.

[. . .]

Meanwhile, reputable Swiss boffins have lately pointed out that in fact a VW Golf powered by one of the new, super-low-emission injected turbodiesels is responsible for less carbon emissions over its lifespan than one with a li-ion battery running on typical grid power.

So, to wrap up the discussion briefly, nobody will be buying Tesla Roadsters or Government Motors Volts for their economic virtues: they’ll be buying them as expensive status-signalling devices to show off their (real or imaginary) environmental awareness.

Edward Bernays, the American nephew of Sigmund Freud, is said to have invented modern propaganda. During the first world war, he was one of a group of influential liberals who mounted a secret government campaign to persuade reluctant Americans to send an army to the bloodbath in Europe. In his book, Propaganda, published in 1928, Bernays wrote that the “intelligent manipulation of the organized habits and opinions of the masses was an important element in democratic society” and that the manipulators “constitute an invisible government which is the true ruling power in our country.” Instead of propaganda, he coined the euphemism “public relations.”

The American tobacco industry hired Bernays to convince women they should smoke in public. By associating smoking with women’s liberation, he made cigarettes “torches of freedom.” In 1954, he conjured a communist menace in Guatemala as an excuse for overthrowing the democratically-elected government, whose social reforms were threatening the United Fruit company’s monopoly of the banana trade. He called it a “liberation.”

Bernays was no rabid right-winger. He was an elitist liberal who believed that “engineering public consent” was for the greater good. This was achieved by the creation of “false realities” which then became “news events.”

Propaganda definitely existed before Bernays, but he may have been the one who codified and systematized the “science”.

He was definitely in the right place: he’d already mastered the bureaucratic mumble, the never-make-eye-contact-with-the-client, and the dull, listless attitude. Other than his age, he looked like he’d been doing the job for decades . . . and hated it.

I felt quite sorry for him.

The rumoured plan to share the vessels would have certain advantages, to be sure. But it would also have certain ironies. Until the very recent past, the French and the British hated one another for approximately a thousand years, give or take a century. They battled each other endlessly, usually on the high seas. Progress is great and peace is nifty, but could anyone ever again look upon Lord Nelson’s monument in Trafalgar Square without chuckling if they knew the British Isles were protected by a glitchy French carrier named after a colossal thorn in the revered Churchill’s side?

The British have been quick to stamp out these rumours, calling them unwarranted speculation. But it’s interesting to even consider. Set aside the issue of the French and Royal navies co-operating, because stranger things have happened. Not many, but some. Every major Western military power, including Canada, is facing the same crunch. Sure, Prime Minister Harper made a big splash when his government announced plans to spend $16-billion on F-35 fighters, but lots of other things aren’t getting done. New destroyers? New search and rescue aircraft? An armoured vehicle refit? Frigate modernization? Show me the money! Or don’t. There is no money. If they are indeed discussing sharing their carriers, the French and the Brits at least deserve some credit for original thinking.

Original yes, but flawed. The rumoured plan doesn’t involve jointly constructing or manning vessels, but coordinating the patrol schedules of their respective carriers so that at least one would be at sea at all times. This would give both countries the capability to respond swiftly to threats in their shared North Atlantic area, or to react immediately to crises and disasters around the world (Whether for battle or rescue, few military assets can equal the utility of an aircraft carrier). Whichever carrier was deployed at any given time would remain under the command of its own national government, but there would apparently be contingencies to deal with a purely national military situation.

I doubt that the plan, even as scaled-down as indicated, would be workable, but it does show that the Royal Navy is seriously concerned that the new government will deprive them of the funds needed to complete the two new aircraft carriers already underway. Any extra leverage to persuade the government to avoid killing the program (like getting the French involved) may be seen as a good tactical tool.

“Obviously I’m now going to have to take some legal action of my own, because I have been the Stig for the past seven years, and I don’t know who this bloke is, who’s mincing around in the High Court pretending it’s him.”

June 25 marked the 60th anniversary of North Korea’s premeditated attack on South Korea. The attack, which scattered South Korea’s weak and disorganized defense forces, began a vicious two and a half months of combat. The North Koreans would smash the ill-starred U.S. 24th Division’s Task Force Smith, then shove remnant South Korean troops and U.S. reinforcements into the Pusan Perimeter, at the southern tip of the peninsula.

In the weeks since June 25, I’ve re-read T.R. Fehrenbach’s “This Kind of War,” still the premier Korean War history. (Clay Blair’s “The Forgotten War” is also an excellent book.) Published in 1963 and reissued in 2000, “This Kind of War” is lyric history, delivering analysis in elegant, honest prose. Fehrenbach is also a decorated Korean War veteran, a man in touch with the emotions as well as the facts.

“This kind of war,” Fehrenbach writes, “is dirty business first to last.” Fehrenbach’s commentary on those first battles of July and August 1950 depicts the confusion of initial defeat and retreat, as well as the courage and intellect required to stem the onslaught. His chapter on the Inchon landing of September 1950 — the American amphibious counter-stroke — is incisive. Its 60th anniversary is two weeks away.

I think I first saw This Kind of War recommended by Jim Dunnigan, many years ago, but the Korean War has never been a major historical interest of mine. When I did get around to reading the book, it certainly opened my eyes. As Bay points out, the work is still topical because the war has never officially ended (as the sinking of the ROKS Cheonan amply demonstrated).

Why does the First Amendment enshrine both speech and religion as things the state shall not legislate against or establish an approved version thereof? To formalize “tolerance” without requiring “approval.”

In this wise, it is possible to form a society of individuals with vastly different ideas and religions in which the liberty of all is respected by all. In essence we agree that I tolerate your worship of a moon god and you tolerate my worship of a tree. It’s “live and let live” at the most basic level. If, on the other hand, you decide that I have to make continuous noises of “approval” of the moon god in order for you to grant me the right to worship the tree god in peace, we are headed towards an argument that ends in guns.

At its most basic the American tradition is that I don’t require approval of my beliefs from you and you don’t insist on my approval of your beliefs. Regardless of what we may do, we tacitly agree not to do things which exacerbate a state of mutual disrespect. We mutually agree not to get in each others faces about these issues with acts like, oh I don’t know, building a temple to the moon god so that it casts a shadow across my cemetery. Doing so starts a process of disrespect that also tends, if history is any guide, to end in guns and fire.

“Toleration does not require approval.” It really is the simplest of social compacts and like all great and simple ideas bringing in nuance and qualifiers doesn’t strengthen our common bonds as society but weakens it. This is well-known to those that seek to create a climate of continual upheaval in the mistaken belief that, in the end, the fire will not consume them. Civil war consumes all.

Gerard Vanderleun, “Tolerance Does Not Require Approval”, American Digest, 2010-08-27