This is going around the net, if you haven’t seen it already. Not only the greatest movie trailer ever made, but a short course in everything you need to know about current movie cliches. Well done, whoever did it.
All posts by Lars Walker
An almost unbelievable threat to free expression
Our friend Daniel Crandall, over at The American Culture, writes about “Libel Tourism,” the frightening strategy by which reputed terrorist supporters use the libel laws of Great Britain to censor books (both British and foreign) that report facts they don’t like.
He embeds a video which is a couple years old, but informative:
A bill called the Free Speech Protection act, Crandall reports, is now before Congress. It deserves the support of every lover of books and free expression.
Peter Hitchens, on Christianity and his brother
From the Mail Online: Peter Hitchins describes his journey back to Christianity, and his dispute with his atheist brother Christopher, on the release of his new book, The Rage Against God.
I have, however, the more modest hope that he might one day arrive at some sort of acceptance that belief in God is not necessarily a character fault, and that religion does not poison everything.
Beyond that, I can only add that those who choose to argue in prose, even if it is very good prose, are unlikely to be receptive to a case which is most effectively couched in poetry.
Tip: Ed Veith at Cranach.
Evidence, by Jonathan Kellerman
You’re probably tired of my reviews of paperback mysteries, especially ones by the small string of my favorite authors, among whom Jonathan Kellerman is not least. So this will be more an appreciation than a review.
In brief, Evidence is a well-crafted, compelling police procedural, in which psychologist Alex Delaware is mostly along for the ride, as his buddy Detective Milo Sturgis investigates the murder of a couple, found posed in a sexual position, in an unfinished beachside mansion. The investigation leads to a secretive, extremist environmentalist plot.
Much of my enjoyment of this book was strictly partisan and ideological. I don’t know Kellerman’s politics, but he throws conservatives some red meat. First of all, he balances the fact that Det. Sturgis is gay (the least “gay” man possible, in terms of stereotypes), by throwing in Det. Sean Binchy, an open evangelical. Sean has a small part in the book, but he’s smart, decent and hard-working.
Note to Hollywood—I accept token characters. I embrace them. I’m shamelessly gullible in this regard.
Also, the things said in this book about certain elements (certainly not the majority) of the environmentalist movement shocked me. If green terrorism is indeed as common and deadly as this story suggests, the press has a lot of covering up to answer for. The enviro-nuts in Evidence act the way pro-lifers usually act in Hollywood movies and TV shows. Which is saying, pretty darn bad.
So I had a great time with Evidence. Recommended, with the usual caveats for language and adult subject matter.
The dogs in the night-time
“Is there any point to which you would wish to draw my attention?”
“To the curious incident of the dog in the night-time.”
“The dog did nothing in the night-time.”
“That was the curious incident,” remarked Sherlock Holmes.
(“Silver Blaze,” by Arthur Conan Doyle)
I always think of Silver Blaze when I recall one of the few actual murder mysteries I’ve ever gotten close to. I wasn’t actually all that close, but it presented one or two points of interest, as S. Holmes might have said.
Years ago, I was pretty well acquainted with a particular couple, who lived in a suburban community. They socialized quite a lot with their neighbors, most of whom they enjoyed knowing.
There was one exception.
I met the man once, I think, when I was visiting this particular couple. He wandered in through the back door, uninvited, somewhat drunk, and proceeded to monopolize the conversation for an hour or so. I remember that he made fun of the shirt I was wearing. My friends told me they put up with him for his wife’s sake. He was a self-appointed sergeant-major, the kind of man who always had to be in charge of everything, and always knew what to do better than everyone else. His wife smiled tensely, and endured.
The neighbors suspected he hit her from time to time.
And one night, he was murdered. Continue reading The dogs in the night-time
Decider, by Dick Francis
Several of you encouraged me to try Dick Francis’ mysteries when I posted following his recent death. I took your advice. Thank you. Decider was my first Francis, but it won’t be my last.
The hero of this novel is Lee Morris, an architect and builder who specializes in converting ruined historic buildings into habitable homes and usable places of business (which serves very well as a metaphor for his activities in the story).
He’s a strong, independent, honest man, but no plaster saint. He lusts (passively) over younger women, and his marriage, to a beautiful woman he once loved passionately, has now gone cold. He’s terrified his wife will leave him, though, because he loves the life he’s made, and the six (!) sons she’s given him.
When he’s approached by the managers of the Stratton Park racecourse, asking him to try to influence the board of directors, he’s not much inclined to help. He’s owned shares in the racecourse since his mother’s death, as she was once married to a member of the aristocratic Stratton family. He has little interest in horse racing, and none at all in a closer association with the Strattons, of whom his mother had traumatic memories. Still, for reasons of his own, he gets involved with the family dispute—some Strattons want to tear the course down and sell it, some want to rebuild and modernize the grandstand, and others want to change nothing. A few of them are rather nice, more of them are passive and ineffectual, and a couple are dangerous loons. Before long a spectator has been killed in a steeplechasing accident, and the grandstand has been blown up, nearly killing Lee and one of his sons. The Stratton family, like all aristocratic families in fiction, has dangerous secrets, and there are those who will go to any lengths to keep them covered up. In the end, Lee’s life and those of his sons depend on his ability to solve the mystery.
In the same way that Jane Austen’s novels are comedies of manners, this book is a mystery of character. Not merely the well-drawn, vivid characters author Francis sketches, but the idea of personal character and integrity. Lee Morris among the Strattons stands out by virtue of his decency, his sanity, and his human caring. A passage from a friend’s old diary, which he reads (with permission), gives a hint at the theme:
More rumors about Wilson Yarrow. He’s being allowed to complete his diploma! They’re saying someone else’s design was entered in his name for the Epsilon prize by mistake! Then old Hammond says a brilliant talent like that shouldn’t be extinguished for one little lapse! How’s that for giving the game away? Discussed it with Lee. He says choice comes from inside. If someone chooses to cheat once, they’ll do it again. What about consequences, I asked? He said Wilson Yarrow hadn’t considered consequences because he’d acted on a belief that he would get away with it….
I found Decider a most satisfying book, on several levels. Highly recommended.
Lutefisk burrito, anyone?
If anybody should be planning to start a Mexican-Scandinavian fusion restaurant anytime soon, I have a great name to suggest, which you may use free of charge.
Olé Olson’s.
No need to thank me. I do this for the good of humanity.
The holmgang duel, part 3
As you will learn in the article below, a genuine holmgang did not look like this. Photo credit: Emily Chesley.
We have discussed the importance of the judicial duel in Viking society as a method of limiting violence in a community with no police protection. And we have looked at the preparations, including the laying out of a limited fighting space marked by a barrier, outside of which the participants might not step, and into which the onlookers dared not trespass.
If one participant failed to show up for the duel, he naturally lost his honor. This meant more than a loss of reputation. A man without honor — a niðing — lost important legal rights.
Before the fight started, it was the obligation of the challenger to recite the rules of the duel. Although there were generalized rules for a holmgang, the duelists might make special rules for this particular engagement, if both agreed. The summary that follows comes from the best information we have concerning the customary procedures. Continue reading The holmgang duel, part 3
The holmgang duel, part 2
Photo credit: Emily Chesley
The Vikings lived in an honor-based culture. A man’s self-image was based, not on what he knew about himself, but on what others thought of him. Reputation was everything.
In a culture like that, social life is a minefield. Say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing, and your neighbor may take deadly offense. An apology is not an option, because that would diminish you in the eyes of your neighbors. And an offense against any man is taken personally by his kinsmen and friends.
Thus do feuds begin. And feuds are a sad waste of energy and resources for any community, not to mention a drain on much-needed manpower.
So how are quarrels to be settled without metastasizing into feuds? For small offenses, the assessment and payment of a fine will do. But for greater offenses, it’s impossible to keep trained warriors, in a society without police, from resorting to their weapons.
This is where the judicial duel comes in. The judicial duel — the “holmgang” in Viking Scandinavia – is intended to release the pressure of the quarrel by permitting — while at the same time limiting — the violence. Continue reading The holmgang duel, part 2
The holmgang duel, part 1
Two “Vikings” (me and my friend Ragnar) face off for a duel. Photo credit: Emily Chesley.
[I recently wrote a series of articles on the Viking judicial duel–the holmgang–for the newsletter of my Sons of Norway lodge. I offer them now for you here, in three installments. lw]
“By law shall the land be established, and by lawlessness laid waste,” says the title character in the Icelandic Njal’s Saga. Historian Magnus Magnusson writes, “I can never resist reminding my sceptical friends that it was these allegedly pitiless savages [the Vikings] who introduced the word law into the English language.”
Anyone reading the sagas will soon realize the extreme importance of the idea of law to the Norse. And it’s in the context of this importance that the judicial duel, the holmgang, must be understood.
The Vikings had laws and courts, as we do today. What they did not have was a police force. Delegating the use of force to someone else would have seemed shameful to any free Norseman. Continue reading The holmgang duel, part 1